Lady Myddelton's Lover by Evangeline Holland Page B

dose of fish oil—that fiend of a butler.”
    He thrust it back into her hands and sat back on the bed, moving to grasp the blanket and pull it back over his head. His fingers paused on the lace edged coverlet and he glanced about with a frown, realizing he was in Aline’s room and that he was in her bed. He looked quickly at her and noticed she was dressed in a dark gray suit, boots, and a veiled hat. A monogrammed trunk lay propped against the wall beside the door. He tossed the blanket aside and would have jumped from the bed had he not been stricken by another stomach-churning jolt of dizziness. He fell against the pillows again, eyes closed and breathing carefully through his nose.
    “Why are you dressed for travel?” He managed to ground out.
    “I’m going to set this right here, on the table James placed beside the bed.” She answered instead, the clink of the glass against wood mirroring her words.
    He felt her swift movement away from the bed and shot out an arm, reaching blindly for her. He opened an eye when his fingers curled around her wrist. She looked peevish, but allowed him to tug her back to his side.
    “Where are you going?”
    “To Myddelton Park,” She sighed. “The Dower House, actually.”
    He opened the other eye. “Why?”
    “Because it is where I belong.” She said simply. “I am no longer mistress of Myddelton, and it is not proper for me to reside with you as though I am.”
    “Damn what is proper, Aline,” He scoffed. “You belong with me. Marry me.”
    Her lashes lowered over her eyes, veiling her thoughts. His heart thudded painfully in his throat as he awaited her answer. She lifted her gaze and smiled tightly, twisting her arm to signal him to release her.
    “Thank you Richard for your proposal, but no, I do not want to marry you.”
    “You want to marry Sir Carleton,” He accused.
    “No.” She said simply, and he had the uneasy notion that her eyes darkened perceptibly with disappointment.
    She said nothing and more, he could do nothing but release her, his arm falling listlessly away from her to dangle at his side. He watched hollowly, tremendously frustrated and bewildered, as she walked out of the room and out of his life.
     
    Richard sat in the library, attempting to read a book, but more often than not staring blankly out the windows overlooking Berkeley Square, as though the carriage driving Aline to the railway station would turn around, sweep back to the house, and she would leap out of it and chaff him for falling for her prank. He sat there for more than an hour, expecting his premonition to come true. He jumped to his feet at every passing carriage, only to feel incredibly foolish when it continued past the house, obviously only crossing Berkeley Square on its way to an unknown destination. He nursed the nasty cocktail Truscott brewed for his head, having forced the butler to use the same glass, the glass Aline had touched.
    He turned to the window at the sound of hooves on the pavement, and he sucked in a breath when a carriage stopped in front of his house. He arranged himself casually, adjusting the lapels of his smoking jacket and crossing his leg to appear nonchalant. He turned to the opening door to see Truscott entering the library with an inquiring look. He nodded at the butler, shuffling the pages to pretend he was engrossed in the—what was he reading again? Oh yes, The Visits of Elizabeth by Mrs. Elinor Glyn—lively story of an innocent debutante attending a wicked house party.
    “I beg your pardon my lord, but there is a lady—”
    “A lady?” Richard tossed the book aside and rose to his feet. “Where is she?”
    “She has left her card,” Truscott extended the silver tray to him.
    Richard grunted softly with disappointment, but lifted the card from the tray. He briefly raised his eyes to the ceiling.
    “Show her in, Truscott,”
    However, Lady Idira barged into the library before the butler could show her inside, enveloping him in a