The Mammoth Book Of Regency Romance Part 32

Two.

Everyone's gaze, including Garrett's, turned as the sound of breaking gla.s.s rent the air. A flash of red hair could be seen before the woman raced from the ballroom and out a terrace door. His heart stopped for a moment. It couldn't be her. After what had happened, she would never attempt to go about in society again.

"It truly amazes me that anyone would invite Lady Townson to a ball," whispered a female voice behind him.

"Poor Mrs Billings felt she had no choice but to bring her into her home after the old lord died. After all, she is her cousin," another woman commented.

"She should have stayed in the country."

Fury washed over him at both the comments, and at the idea that Tessa was at the ball. Had she seen him and dropped her gla.s.s? He almost laughed at the thought. The cold-hearted woman had probably only been flirting with another man when she let the gla.s.s slip. She was likely just trying to attract more attention to herself.

But watching her scamper off to the gardens had sent his anger even higher. It was high time he confronted her about what she'd done to him. With her living in the country, he'd never felt a need. But now that she had returned, he would deal with her. He strode towards the terrace, attempting to ignore the pain in his hip and the looks of pity from the people around him.

The cool April air was like a slap in the face after the stifling conditions inside the ballroom. The fresh scent of the evening air refreshed him. He moved along a row of rose bushes, the gravel crunching under his feet as he listened for any sound. The chilly temperatures had kept most of the amorous couples inside. A few torches lit the path as he ambled towards the brick wall to the back of the garden. He paused for a moment to listen to the rhythmic shuffle of pacing on the gravel path ahead of him.

He found her with her hand over her mouth, muttering, pacing, her eyes frantic.

"How can he be alive?" she whispered.

He didn't move for a moment but just stared at her, remembering exactly how she had looked five years ago. So beautiful it took his breath away.

With her red hair and blue eyes, a heart-shaped face and curves exactly where a man wanted them, she had been one of the most popular girls out during her seasons. She had favoured him with her smiles and her dances. And he had craved her attention. Now she had matured and sorrow marked her face. Could she have loved her older husband so much that she still missed him a year after his death?

"What are you doing here, Tessa?"

She glanced up with a gasp and shook her head. Tears trailed down her cheeks and her blue eyes looked like wet sapphires. "What am I doing here?"

"That was my question."

She rose from her seat and stared at him. "You are supposed to be dead."

Dead? "If you think you can attempt to fool me with your duplicitous words, you are mistaken."

"Fool you!" She walked over and slapped him across the face.

d.a.m.n. He rubbed his cheek as the pain lessened. "Try that again and you will find yourself over my knee."

She laughed caustically. "Over the knee of a dead man. I doubt you will be able to manage it."

"Why do you insist that I am a dead man?" he asked.

"Why don't you ask your brother? I'm sure he can tell you why he wrote me a letter stating that you had died. Or maybe you can explain why I received your letter. The one I was only supposed to receive after your death."

"And what about my other letter?" he demanded.

Her brows furrowed deeply. "There was no other letter. The only note I received from you was the one that just about killed me."

Before he could even begin to understand, she picked up her skirts and ran from him. Not unlike how she'd run from him five years ago. And as much as he would have liked to chase after her, his d.a.m.ned hip prevented him from anything more than a slow walk. By the time he reached the ballroom, he knew she had departed.

Not that he could blame her. Now, he would have to wait until tomorrow to call on her and ask for an explanation. But he had no way of justifying his brother's actions, if he was to take her remarks as truth. No way of discovering why Laurence would have sent her such a note. Could Tessa have been so secluded from society gossip that she didn't know Laurence had died over a year ago? Or that Garrett had inherited the t.i.tle?

He walked back out to the terrace and sat on a stone bench, remembering a night like this five years ago. Making love to her out in the garden had been one of the more foolish things he had done in his life. And yet, the most memorable. She had been driving him insane with desire for a month before she finally let him kiss her. But one kiss hadn't been enough for either of them.

Why she'd agreed to marry Townson had never made any sense to him. Garrett had written her a letter the very next morning offering to marry her via proxy once he arrived with his unit in Belgium. But she had never replied. Instead, he'd received a letter from Laurence stating that she had married Townson. Laurence had implied she married him for the t.i.tle and money.

Garrett went a little mad after receiving his brother's letter. Placing himself in dangerous situations, perhaps hoping G.o.d would take him. Obviously, G.o.d hadn't wanted him any more than Tessa had.

Still, he owed her an explanation, just as she owed him one.

Three.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tessa demanded of Grace the next morning. "You knew he was alive and you never told me. How could you do that?"

Grace stared down at her hands. "By the time I discovered he was alive, it was too late, Tessa. You had already married Townson. There was nothing you could have done."

Tessa strode across the small parlour of Grace's home. Dodging Louisa, who lay on the floor petting the cat, Tessa stalked past the wingback chair where Grace sat, then stopped.

"Why didn't you tell me after Townson died?"

"I didn't want him to hurt you again," she replied quickly. "I was only trying to protect you. The only reason I agreed to go to that ball last night was because I'd heard he would not be there."

Tessa looked up at the white ceiling. "Grace, you know I would have discovered the truth sometime. You should have told me so I didn't embarra.s.s myself in front of all those people . . . again."

"I'm sorry, Tessa. I honestly never meant to hurt you."

"I know." She walked the length of the room again, this time stopping by the fireplace. "Has he married, then?" she whispered.

Grace shook her head. "No. His brother died a little over a year ago and now that he is Viscount Haverhill, everyone is expecting him to start courting an eligible lady."

Tessa swallowed back the bitter taste that filled her mouth. The idea of Garrett marrying someone made her clutch her stomach. Now she would have to spend the whole season watching him court some young woman.

"He said he wrote me a letter that I never received." Tessa resumed her pacing. "I wonder why I never learned of it."

"Do you think he was lying?"

Tessa frowned and shook her head. "He seemed quite sincere."

"Your parents might have intercepted it," Grace said, looking up at Tessa as she pa.s.sed the chair again. "You know they didn't approve of him. They felt his prospects were limited at best."

"He was an officer in the military. The second son of a viscount. There is nothing wrong with that."

"True. But they had higher expectations for you than a military man."

Tessa shook her head in disbelief. Could her parents have been so deceitful? In her heart, she knew they could. All they had wanted for her was a wealthy peer who would marry her and take her out of their home.

A knock sc.r.a.ped the door and Grace's butler peered into the room. "Lady Townson, you have a caller."

Tessa frowned. "Who is it?"

"Lord Haverhill, ma'am. Shall I inform him that you are not at home?"

"No, show him to the receiving salon. I shall be there presently," Tessa replied, as nervous energy filled her.

As the door shut, Tessa looked back at Grace. "What am I to do now?"

Grace smiled sympathetically. "Talk to him and find out where your letters crossed."

Tessa nodded. With a breath for strength, she walked to the receiving parlour. And there he was. He rose to his full height upon her entry. Could she really have forgotten what a handsome man he was?

His black hair was longer than he used to wear it, but still just as striking. His green eyes were the lightest she had ever seen, almost the colour of a peridot. His square face, straight nose and brilliant smile made him hard to resist. And resist him was exactly what she should have done five years ago. Today, those intense eyes burned her as she walked slowly into the room.

"Lady Townson," he said with a quick bow.

"Lord Haverhill." She took a seat as far from him as possible.

"I believe we should talk about what happened last night." The stiffness in his voice carried through to his body. He crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for her to speak.

Tessa's heart pounded. "I am not sure there is any more to discuss."

"You told me you received a letter from my brother stating I had died. I find it difficult to believe my brother would have done such a thing. He knew how I felt about you at the time."

She blinked in surprise. "You don't believe me?"

"I said, 'I find it difficult to believe'. Not impossible."

His cold tone sent a shiver through her. "I still have the letter," she whispered. She had kept all of Garrett's letters. She had reread them every night after Townson left her bed.

He closed his eyes and blew out a long sigh. "Might I see it?"

Tessa hated the tension this discussion brought. The two of them used to be able to talk about everything. Now, he could barely stand being in the same room as her. "It is in my bedchamber. I will ask a footman to retrieve it for me." She rose and walked to the door. After speaking to the footman, she returned.

"You never received another letter from me after the one from my brother?" he asked quietly.

"No. What was in it?"

"Nothing of importance," he muttered then swore under his breath. He rose with the a.s.sistance of his cane and walked to the fireplace. "Are you lying to me, Tessa?"

She watched him limp to the fireplace and her heart went out to him. He had been a brilliant horseman before the war and now he looked as if he could never ride again. She wondered if the wound pained him.

"Tessa, are you lying to me?"

"Of course not," she snapped. "What purpose would I have in lying to you?"

He turned at her outburst. "Excuse me?"

"Your letter broke my heart, Garrett."

His smile turned nasty. "I'm certain you were so heartbroken that you let your parents marry you off to old Townson. Of course, he was a much better catch, being a viscount."

"Get out of this house," she said, pointing towards the door.

"Not until I see this supposed letter you received." He walked towards her, leaning heavily on his cane.

Each step brought him closer, until she could smell the aroma of his sandalwood soap. She shouldn't feel this attraction to him. This desire to run her hand down his cheek, just to feel the rough stubble there.

"Why did you marry him?"

"I thought you were dead," she whispered. "I didn't care who I married after I had lost you."

He closed his eyes. "I see."

"I don't think you do." She should tell him the real reason for her marriage, but that news would only cause him more pain.

"Did your parents force the marriage?" He opened his eyes again and stared at her.

Tessa nodded. "They felt it was the best for me. My reputation was in ruins. I had no prospects for a decent marriage."

"Excuse me, ma'am," a footman paused at the threshold. "Here are the letters you asked me to fetch for you." He handed them to her before disappearing.

Tessa stared down at the bundle of letters tied together with a blue ribbon. She pulled out the top letter that she had read hundreds of times. In it, he had expressed his love for her and his sorrow at losing her so soon. Slowly, she held out the worn paper to him.

"This is your letter." She then sorted through the other letters until she found the one from his brother. "And this is your brother's note."

He opened the first note and stared down at it. For a long moment he said nothing, and then he handed the papers back to her. "I am dreadfully sorry, Tessa. That note was not supposed to go to you unless I died. I can only a.s.sume that Laurence decided he wanted you out of my life and this was the best way to do it. Unfortunately, we will never know for certain."

He retrieved his cane and walked towards the door.

He was leaving? She couldn't let him go just yet. There was more they had to discuss, wasn't there?

"How were you injured?" she asked.

"I was shot in the hip." He continued to shuffle to the door. His limp was much more p.r.o.nounced than it had been yesterday.

She bit down on her lip and tried not to cry. He could have lost his leg to an injury like that or, worse, died from an infection. Had things worked out between them, she could have been the one to help him recover, or rub his hip when it pained him. Now he was walking out the door, and if she didn't try to stop him, she might not see him again.

"Would you like to stay for some tea?"