Chapter Twenty-Three
Lord Warwick grumbled to himself as he stepped into the back alley. Never had he felt so empty leaving a woman’s bed. This sense of loss, of a world gone wrong, was something he promised himself to never experience again.
This was what happened when a rake became involved with an angel.
She was so remarkable in so many ways. It had hurt his soul to leave her. Her soft skin glowing in the lamplight. The way she had looked at him. As if he were the most important thing in the universe. It was a look that could make a man feel invincible.
If a woman such as Amanda Waters could find some worth in him, then surely, his life had meant something.
Sighing heavily, he hurried through the alley, out into the street, and around the corner. There was so much to do if he was to be ready before Olivia’s ball. But as he walked, he could not stop himself from thinking of the woman he had left behind.
NO. he told himself. Do not let Amanda distract you. Too many important things depended upon him completing this mission. Too many lives hung in the balance.
Pushing the memories of their time together aside, he focused on his job. But deep in the back of his mind. Those memories were locked away to be brought out whenever he wished. The knowledge was both pleasing and soul shakingly sad.
Such perfection and he had lost it. Walked away. How could he have been such an idiot?
Because that was what she wanted, he reminded himself. What she had demanded in fact. Her words had been explicit without any hint of ambiguity. No subtle suggestion that he convince her otherwise.
The memory ate at him as he pondered her words. She had no wish to marry. She had been very firm in her statement. And in all truth, there was no other possibility. Not unless she was willing to burn her connections within society.
Really, an independent woman did change things. There were no pressures on her to marry. No levers for him to pull.
The thought made him shake his head. Leave it to him to desire the one woman who had no need of his wealth or status.
They might be able to keep their affair secret he thought for a hopeful moment. For a short period at least. He was very good at such things after all. But eventually. Something would slip. Some glance across a crowded room. A word of endearment. A touch in public. Something would get the tongues wagging and they would be discovered.
No, he must not allow that to happen. Amanda deserved the life she wanted.
Sighing again, he wove his way through a line of carriages and cabs as he hurried across the street. The strong scent of horses, coal smoke and too many people hit him like a shovel upside the head. You’re not in bed with her anymore, he reminded himself, focus.
Ducking into another alley he looked both ways to ensure no one was watching. Once things were clear, he reached down behind a dustbin and removed a ratty old brown coat.
Pulling the ribbon from his hair, he slipped out of the Higginbottom cutaway coat and into the brown coat. He pulled his cravat away with a strung tug and opened his top button. He once again glanced up and down the alley to make sure he was still unobserved. Seeing that he maintained his anonymity, he rubbed his hands in the dirt and wiped his cheek before he ruffled his hair.
As a final touch, he pulled at his hose, leaving a gap between the left one and his breeches.
There, he was a now a common workman. What would Amanda think if she saw him? he wondered with a smile. Knowing her, she’d silently shake her head then shot him a quick glance of approval at his disguise. The woman understood. That was one of the many things he enjoyed about her. There was never a need to explain the small details.
He folded the black coat, placed the starched white cravat into a pocket and placed the bundle behind the dustbin then hurried out into the street. Jack Warden, common laborer.
Once on the street, he turned towards the east. Sanderson was to meet him at the Boars Head two streets over. He’d sent word earlier that morning. It was important that they get started. With Amanda’s amazing discovery, now they had a path to follow. A way to see this through.
And then? He wondered. Then, perhaps he could attack his true problem. What to do with Miss Amanda Waters? For under no circumstances was he allowing her to walk away. Not without a fight.
.o0o.
Amanda stepped into her home to find her new footman, Anderson, holding up a side table in the parlor while Molly swept under it. Amanda quietly smiled to herself. Both Molly and herself together couldn’t have lifted that table.
“Your home, Mum,” Molly said with surprise as her eyes quickly ran over her, obviously examining for any signs of distress.
Amanda fought the urge to run her hand over her hair. She had been in such a hurry to leave that morning that she worried she had not given it the care she should have.
As she remembered her night, her heart broke again. A situation she knew full well would reoccur for the rest of her life.
Molly gave her a questioning look that sent a cold shiver down her spine. Be careful, Amanda told herself. Molly must never discover that she had spent the night in a man’s bed. She could never know about Lord Warwick.
“Was it an enjoyable evening Mum?” Molly asked.
Amanda almost winced. No one had ever had a more enjoyable evening even if it had been mixed with such a sad cloud hanging in the air.
“Yes, it was,” she said as she placed her reticule on a table. “It went rather late though. I do believe I will take a quick rest.”
Molly studied her for a long moment then finally nodded. “Of course, Mum. I will call you for dinner.”
Amanda nodded as she began the long trek up the stairs to her room. Once she was there, she sighed heavily as she lay down. Her world was over. Any chance of happiness was gone. Gone the moment he turned and left.
“Well, what did you expect,” she whispered to herself. She had sent him away. Told him that they could no longer be together. But could they? She wondered as she turned onto her side and pulled a pillow close to hug it to her chest.
No, she thought. No, not if she was to maintain her place in society. Not if she wanted to remain friends with Olivia and the others. No, they couldn’t. Besides. Lord Warwick had given no hint that he might want to continue. No words of forever.
True, he had regretted their parting. She had seen it in his eyes. But perhaps that was merely the regrets of a man who would miss an opportunity for more liaisons.
No, it was better this way. Better that she end it now. True her heart was broken. But someday, perhaps, it might heal.
Closing her eyes, she tried to push the memories away, but they refused to leave. All she could dream of was the way it felt to be held by him. That sense of safety and security. His strong arms cradling her as if she were special. As if she mattered to him. Something precious to protect.
Wiping at a tear, she sighed and turned over, keeping the pillow clamped to her chest.
And there was no one she could talk to. No one to unburden herself to. Olivia would never understand. Not really. She might pretend, but there would be that hint of disapproval in the back of her eyes.
Now that she was married, Olivia had really become rather … not prudish … more conservative though. Perhaps it was motherhood. That sense of protectiveness made her view everything by how it would impact her child’s future.
Friendship with a fallen woman would not be allowed. The example she set as a countess was important to Olivia. She would never bring shame to Bradford’s name. No, Amanda would never put her friend in that situation.
No, Olivia was out.
Lady Weston? Amanda snorted a laugh through her tears at the thought. The woman would roll her eyes. Tell her to not let it happen again, and cluck her tongue as she gave her a serious look of disapproval.
Amanda’s breath caught as she realized the only person she could share such a secret with had walked out of her life that very morning.
Sighing heavily, she lay there, wide awake until Molly tapped at the door and informed her that dinner was ready.
Amanda forced herself to get up out of bed when all she really wanted was to hide in a deep dark hole and never come out. But that would not do. Not if she wanted to keep her secret. So she washed her face, fixed her hair, and set her shoulders. Now was the rest of her life. Best that she start pretending that everything was fine.
What is he doing now? She wondered as she lifted up a spoonful of soup. Was he all right? Was he thinking of her?
Her heart twisted itself into a tight knot as she closed her eyes and tried to push the memories away. Careful, she reminded herself. No one must know. She would have to suffer this exquisite pain all alone.
Sighing, she took another bite. Alone. That was to be her lot in life.