be your responsibility to manage and look after.’
He seemed to recoil, and worried she’d trespassed on to forbidden ground, she said, ‘It’s none of my business, I know. I hope I haven’t offended you.’
He’d clenched his jaw, but after a moment, he relaxed it. ‘You’re quite brave. Most of my acquaintance don’t dare mention the earl.’
She gave him a rueful smile. ‘Foolhardy, rather than brave. It just…makes my heart ache to hear about a family estranged from one another. After losing two siblings and…and my best friend and dearest love, those few I have left are so precious to me. One never knows how much time one will have with them. Another reason I enjoy playing hostess to Papa.’
He nodded. ‘That’s true enough. With the thoughtlessness of youth, I never imagined I would lose my mother so early.’
‘She must have been wonderfully brave. To endure being isolated, with even her own family abandoning her.’
He laughed shortly. ‘A child accepts what he knows as “normal”. It never occurred to me while I was growing up in that little cottage on the wilds of the Hampshire downs that we were isolated or alone. Of course, like most boys, I wished I had brothers to play with, but Mama made the humble place we occupied a haven, full of joy and comfort. By the time I’d been away long enough to understand what had happened, why we lived as we did, it was too late. Too late to tell her how much I appreciated the love and care she gave, and the tremendous strength and courage she displayed in creating a happy home for her child, despite her own sorrow.’ He shook his head. ‘When my aunt came to take me away to school, I pleaded not to have to leave. I was certain I would be content to spend my whole life there, in that little cottage.’
Emboldened by having him answer her other questions, knowing she was pushing the bounds of the permissible, but unable to stop herself she said, ‘So you don’t think you would ever be able to forgive your father—the earl?’
His face shuttered. Alarmed, she feared he’d either say nothing at all, or give her the set-down she deserved for asking so personal a question. But after a moment, he said, ‘Mama could have lied, you know. Denied that she and Richard had been lovers. My aunt told me that the earl had assured her he’d always known she loved Richard, and only wanted the truth. And then he punished her for giving it to him, in the most humiliating fashion possible. Disgraced. Divorced. Repudiated by her own family. How can I forgive him that?’
The anguish in his tone broke her heart, and she wanted to reach out to him—the isolated child whose adored mother had been mistreated and scorned.
‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly. ‘But I do know that anger eats away at the soul, creating a wound that festers. One cannot heal until one lets it go.’ Advice she would do well to heed herself, she thought ruefully.
‘Would that I could follow such wise counsel,’ he said. ‘Perhaps some day, I will.’
‘It was presumptuous of me to offer it,’ she admitted.
‘Caring,’ he corrected. ‘You do offer it out of…compassion, don’t you?’
Oh, it wasn’t wise for her heart to ache for his pain—but it did. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.
With a sigh, he picked up her hand and placed a kiss on it. At his touch, their discussions of politics, her family, his past—all the words in her brain disintegrated, leaving her conscious only of sensation, as the simmering connection between them flamed up, powerful and resurgent. She caught her breath, her fingers trembling in his, fighting the urge to lean closer and caress his cheek.
Then he was bending towards her, his grip on her hand tightening as he drew her against him. She closed her eyes and angled her face up, offering her lips, filled with urgency for his kiss.
He brushed her mouth gently, as if seeking permission. She gave it with a moan and a hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Groaning, he dropped her hand to wrap his arms around her, pressing her against his chest while he deepened the kiss.
At his urging, she opened her mouth to him. He sought her tongue and tangled his with it, sending ripples of pleasure radiating throughout her body. She rubbed her aching breasts against his chest, wanting to be closer, impatient with the layers of cloth that kept them from feeling flesh upon flesh.
Time, place, everything fell away. She was consumed by him, devouring him, afire with ravening need that raged stronger with every stroke of his tongue.
Lost in mindless abandon, she wasn’t sure how much further she would have gone, had he not suddenly broken the kiss, pushed her away, and jumped up to stumble to the hearth.
‘Voices!’ he rasped, his tone breathless and uneven. ‘Coming this way.’
She heard them then, the shock of cold air against her heated cheeks as he abandoned her slamming her back to the present even as she recognised her father’s tones and Lord Coopley’s growling bass.
‘Th-thank you,’ she stuttered, raising shaking hands to straighten her bodice and smooth her disordered curls.
Seconds later, the two men entered the library, stopping short when they saw she wasn’t alone. ‘Hello, Papa, my lord. Is the group breaking up?’ she managed.
‘Yes, the others have gone,’ her father said, looking curiously between her and Hadley. ‘Coopley and I were going to have one last brandy.’
‘As you can see, Mr Hadley lingered to thank me for dinner, and I’m afraid I waylaid him with some further conversation, even though he’d informed me he needed to get away to prepare for a meeting tomorrow. But I shall let him go now.’
Whatever her father might be thinking about finding the two of them alone together, he made no comment. ‘We will wish you goodnight, then, Mr Hadley. Thank you for attending our little gathering, and I hope we will have the pleasure of your company again soon.’
‘The pleasure was certainly mine,’ Hadley replied. ‘Lady Margaret, Lord Witlow, Lord Coopley.’ He bowed, and before she could more than nod, he strode from the room.
‘Will you join us, Puss?’ her father asked.
The last thing she needed now, with her body in an uproar and her mind in disarray, was to face her father’s all-too-perceptive scrutiny. ‘No, you’ll wish to finish whatever discussion was ongoing, and I don’t want to prevent you. I am rather sleepy, so I’ll take myself to bed.’
She rose and walked over to give each man a kiss, hoping her father wouldn’t notice her breathing was still uneven and her hands were trembling.
At a pace she hoped looked decorous rather than panicked, she exited the library.
The following morning, after tossing and turning for hours, Maggie got up at first light. Too restless, and irritated by her restlessness, to attempt to return to sleep, she decided to go for an early morning gallop. The rush of cold air and exhilaration of a hard ride would settle her, clear her muddled mind, and help her decide what she must do.
She rang for her maid, donned her habit, and as the first grey light broke over city, gathered her horse and a sleepy groom and set out for Hyde Park.
She
