Bound by Their Secret Passion Read online

  Chapter Nine

  Dell stood with Ross’s father, the Duke of Kessington, when the butler announced, ‘Count von Osten, Lady Summerfield, Lady Tinmore.’

  A collective gasp went over the guests in the ballroom and all heads turned to see the notorious Lady Summerfield, tall and blonde, and von Osten, dark and foreign.

  ‘Good God,’ exclaimed the Duke. ‘I read the announcement in the Morning Post that they were in town, but I never expected to encounter them at a ball.’

  ‘The Duchess of Archester is an old friend of Lady Summerfield’s,’ Dell told him. He knew this from the Season he’d spent so much time with Lorene. Her Grace the Duchess had made it a point to speak to Lorene about her mother. Dell was surprised to see Lorene in their party, though. And in the company of her mother.

  Still, she looked lovely in a gold gown that shimmered in the candlelight. One glance at her face, though, showed her discomfort. His old protectiveness of her was roused and it was all he could do to keep from hurrying to her side.

  As it happened, it did not take long for Lady Summerfield and the Count to be swept away by interested old friends. Dell watched Lorene retreat to a corner of the room. He crossed the room to her.

  ‘Good evening, Lorene,’ he said, bowing.

  ‘Dell.’ Her voice was a whisper.

  He remembered, then, that moment he’d almost kissed her. How easy it would be to do so again.

  Instead he inclined his head to where her mother and the Count stood. ‘I am surprised.’

  She sighed. ‘Not as surprised as I was. She just appeared yesterday and now she and Count von Osten are staying in my town house.’

  ‘You invited her to stay?’ He was surprised.

  ‘No, not precisely. She...just came. And here I am at a ball when I said I did not want to attend any part of the Season and now I do not see how I will be able to sell the town house with everyone in it.’ She seemed to catch herself. ‘But I am burdening you with my troubles again. Forgive me.’

  It was as though she suddenly pulled away.

  ‘I asked, Lorene.’

  She averted her gaze for a moment before facing him again. ‘And how do you fare, Dell? You did not stay long in Lincolnshire.’

  ‘Not for lack of wanting to stay.’ He’d torn himself away from Summerfield House before he settled in and became as great a recluse as Lord Tinmore had once been.

  She gazed back at the ballroom guests, either clustered around her mother or sending curious glances her mother’s way. Unfortunately, a few curious glances came their way as well.

  ‘We are seen together,’ Lorene said in a tense voice. ‘Will there be talk?’

  ‘I do not think so,’ he said. ‘There was very little mention last year of Tinmore’s death, as far as I knew. And none at all about you and me.’

  ‘I hope that is true,’ she said. ‘I do not want to be the object of gossip ever again.’

  They were silent for a while until Lorene asked, ‘Did you object to anything at Summerfield House?’

  ‘No objection at all,’ he immediately answered.

  She looked relieved. ‘I was not certain how you would feel. Lord Tinmore always pooh-poohed any idea I had about decor.’

  Dell was eager to reassure her he was not like Tinmore. ‘On the contrary, it looked...cared for. It was quite splendid. I found it difficult to leave.’

  Her face filled with pleasure. ‘You did not mind the changes?’

  ‘Fresh paint? Upholstery? Curtains? It all seemed fresh. I very much approved of all you did.’

  She smiled. ‘I am so glad. I did enjoy it very much. I’ve made some improvements in the town house, too. Painting and plastering, mostly. I hope enough for it to sell.’ She paused. ‘If my mother and the Count ever leave.’

  The butler announced, ‘The Marquess and Marchioness of Rossdale. Mr and Mrs Glenville.’

  Lorene’s sisters and their husbands. Soon he would have no reason to remain at Lorene’s side.

  After they greeted the host and hostess, Ross and Genna walked over to speak to Ross’s father. Glenville and Tess came straight to Lorene. None of them missed the spectacle that was Lady Summerfield.

  ‘I never expected to see you here,’ Tess said to Lorene.

  ‘I was rather bullied into it,’ Lorene responded.

  Tess’s brows rose. ‘By whom?’

  ‘Our mother.’

  ‘Mother?’ Tess tossed a scathing look towards her mother. ‘However did that happen?’

  ‘It happened after she and the Count invited themselves to be guests in my town house,’ Lorene responded.

  ‘They invited themselves to stay?’ Tess looked horrified. ‘And you let them?’

  ‘Think about it, Tess,’ Lorene said. ‘Think what gossip there would be if I had refused her.’

  Dell could leave now instead of being on the periphery of this family group. Lorene would no longer be alone. But he did not move.

  Ross and Genna walked over.

  Genna was already in high colour. ‘Did you see her?’ she asked her sisters.

  Ross came to Dell. ‘I am surprised to see her here.’

  ‘Lady Summerfield?’

  Ross laughed. ‘Well, her, certainly, but I meant Lorene. She was adamant about not accepting any invitations. Believe me, we tried to change her mind.’

  ‘Her mother compelled her,’ he responded.

  ‘It cannot be easy for them, having their mother show up after all this time.’ Ross frowned. ‘Genna pretends she doesn’t care, but she has been rather touchy since she first encountered her.’

  ‘When was that?’ Dell asked.

  ‘Yesterday.’

  Dell tried to imagine what it might be like to suddenly encounter a parent one had not seen for over ten years. Even one who had abandoned them. He was not, however, the one to empathise. He would give anything to have a long-lost parent—or any relative—show up.

  The butler announced, ‘The Marquess and Marchioness of Brackton and Lady Alice.’

  His spirits sank. Lady Alice’s arrival was a reminder that he ought to excuse himself from the Summerfields, much as he wanted to stay.

  Lady Summerfield breezed over with the Duchess of Archester in tow and Count von Osten following. ‘My beautiful daughters! All here together! What a lovely picture they make, do they not, Louisa?’

  Lady Summerfield made a lovely picture herself. Tall, but not quite as tall as Genna, with Genna’s colouring and a great deal of similarity in their features. She also seemed totally oblivious to the obvious discomfort on the faces of all three of her daughters.

  Her face lit with recognition when she turned to Tess’s husband. ‘Mr Glenville! How delightful to see you. You look even more handsome than I remembered.’ She turned to her escort. ‘And you remember Count von Osten, certainly.’

  The Count extended his hand. ‘Delightful to see you again, Glenville.’

  Lady Summerfield looked from Ross to Dell. ‘Am I to be introduced? One of you is Lord Rossdale, I suspect.’

  Her daughters seemed paralysed to make the introductions.

  Ross stepped forward and bowed. ‘I am Rossdale, ma’am.’

  ‘I am delighted to meet you, sir!’ Lady Summerfield smiled. ‘I have longed to see this husband who will make my daughter a duchess some day.’

  Her friend, the Duchess of Archester, gestured to Dell. ‘This is the Earl of Penford, Hetty.’

  The lady’s glance turned to Dell. ‘Penford?

  ‘A pleasure, ma’am.’ He bowed.

  ‘The Earl is a Summerfield, Mother,’ Lorene piped up. ‘He inherited Summerfield House and all of Papa’s entailed property.’

  She looked from Lorene to Dell. ‘Oh?’ She smiled. ‘But you are so
handsome!’

  ‘We shared an ancestor a few generations back,’ Dell said.

  Her smile grew wider. ‘That does explain it, then.’

  She introduced Dell and Ross to von Osten.

  ‘See how well my daughters have done, Ossie,’ she exclaimed loud enough for others to hear. ‘Genna will be a duchess. Tess, a viscountess. And Lorene had the good fortune to become a wealthy widow.’

  Lorene winced at her words.

  Dell took a step closer to her. ‘She says what comes into her mind, does she not? Do not let her words touch you.’

  She gave a painful smile. ‘That is difficult advice to follow.’

  ‘Lorene!’ Her mother gestured for Lorene to come closer.

  Lorene glanced towards him.

  ‘Do not trouble yourself about me.’ He bowed. ‘I will take my leave. There are others I must speak to here, in any event.’

  Lady Alice, he supposed.

  * * *

  Lorene watched Dell walk away and could not ignore her dismay when he sauntered off to greet a pretty young lady she remembered seeing during her last Season.

  Of course, better to pass the time with a reputable young lady than the scandalous entourage of Summerfields. Lorene could not miss the disapproving glances of about half the ball’s guests, including the older couple next to Dell’s young lady—her parents, perhaps.

  More mystifying were those who greeted her mother and von Osten as long-lost friends. The Duchess of Archester took the lead and many of her friends followed.

  Lorene, Tess, and Genna had to pretend to be happy about this reunion, although Genna failed completely at this task. Her husband must have noticed, because he excused them from the group as soon as he possibly could and took her off to greet his father. Their mother dragged Lorene and Tess from one group of old friends to another, always bragging about their beauty and the successes of their marriages. At least in the shadow of this brilliant star, no one much attended to her or to Tess.

  Of the disapproving side of the guests, there were many who had been guests of her late husband. Not one of these people approached her, though. No one made an effort to offer condolences, although, perhaps, they, like her mother, considered his death her good fortune.

  When the dancing began, her mother and von Osten were among the first to take their places in the line of dancers. Lorene used this chance to withdraw. She told Tess she needed the ladies’ retiring room and she hurried out of the ballroom.

  But even the ladies’ retiring room seemed a place that might be fraught with curious questions and disapproving stares. Instead she looked for a quiet room to collect her thoughts.

  ‘Lorene?’

  She turned.

  Dell stood behind her. ‘Is there anything amiss?’

  If it had been anyone besides Dell she would have been embarrassed, but he was the one person she felt would understand her without judgement, no matter what.

  She smiled. ‘Nothing. To own the truth, I am looking for a quiet place to hide.’

  He nodded, his expression serious. ‘Come with me.’

  He led her to the library, tucked behind the dining room on the ground floor. From the fire in the grate, he lit a candle and placed it on a table between two large comfortable chairs facing the fireplace.

  ‘How is this?’ he asked.

  ‘Perfect!’ She sat in one of the chairs. Even if someone peeked into the room, they would not immediately see that the chair was occupied.

  From the floor above they could hear the orchestra and the dancers’ footsteps, but, like the private dining room they’d shared at the inn, it felt as if there were only the two of them in the world.

  Would he leave her now? She hoped not.

  He settled into the other chair, but immediately she felt ashamed of herself for wanting his company.

  ‘Do not feel you have to stay with me,’ she said. ‘I would despise myself if I ruined your time at the ball.’

  ‘You do not ruin it.’ His voice was low, and, although he was clean-shaven, he seemed as rakish as that night in the inn.

  ‘Do you not miss the dancing?’ she asked.

  He faced her. ‘Do you?’

  She wrapped her arms around her and tucked her feet under her. ‘I did not expect to dance, but I thought you might.’ With that pretty young lady he’d greeted as soon as walking away from her.

  ‘I remember you were a very good dancer,’ he said.

  She smiled. ‘My goodness, that seems so long ago.’

  He stood. ‘Come. You enjoy dancing. I remember you do.’

  She shook her head. ‘I just want to stay here for a little while.’

  ‘Then let us dance here.’ He extended his hand.

  She hesitated a moment, but finally took his hand and let him assist her from her chair.

  They could still hear the music, albeit faintly. ‘The Duke of Kent’s Waltz,’ he said. ‘We can dance these figures.’

  They faced each other and joined their right hands. They stepped forward and back and forward again, this time with Dell twirling her under his arm. Then they switched hands and did it again. Next, hands joined moving in a circle and back again, then facing each other and holding both hands, stepping to and fro, releasing each other and circling around to take hands again. They danced the figures over and over again, silent, gazes locked upon each other. It was a light-hearted dance, but he did not smile and neither did she. She liked too much the touch of his hand, the joining with him, the being with him.

  She remembered dancing with him two years ago when he’d taken pity on her because Tinmore always left her in a ballroom alone. How lovely it had been and how exhilarating that such a young, handsome man had chosen her.

  But she much preferred how it felt to be alone with him, calming and thrilling at the same time.

  His moves were as graceful here in the dimly lit library as they’d been two years ago in the ballroom. An easy grace, as if it came as naturally to him as walking. It had thrilled her to dance with him. This night, it stirred her even more deeply. She thought of that moment in the inn when she’d been almost certain he’d meant to kiss her.

  The music stopped suddenly. Their hands were still clasped and they did not release them right away.

  Finally she curtsied. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said as if they were in the ballroom.

  ‘My pleasure,’ he responded, but his voice had turned low and smooth, stirring her in a different manner.

  He released her and she returned to her chair. He returned to his. Their silence stretched even further, until he asked, ‘How is it to see your mother again?’

  She was surprised at his question. ‘I hardly know.’ She stared into the glowing coals in the hearth. ‘She has not given us time to decide how we feel. No warning of her arrival. No chance to think about it. And—and she acts as if she’s been gone a month instead of most of our lives.’

  ‘Do you resent her?’ he asked.

  She straightened in her seat. ‘Of course I resent her. But that is not all. I obviously feel something—an obligation, perhaps. I’ve allowed her to move in. Allowed her to make me attend this ball. I am certain if I were Genna I would have sent her packing.’

  He nodded. ‘I noticed Genna’s displeasure.’

  ‘She was so little when Mother left.’

  ‘Still.’ His tone was careful. ‘Before yesterday it was as if you did not have a mother and now you do.’

  ‘Yes. And I do not know how I feel about it.’

  His countenance was so serious, she did not know what to think of him either. Except...

  She leaned towards him. ‘I am so sorry. I am complaining and you are thinking of what you would give to have your mother walk back into your life.’

  He glanced aw
ay and she feared she had taken a liberty she should not have taken.

  Finally he said, ‘You are correct.’

  She wanted to reach over and touch him, but there was too much distance between their chairs. ‘I do not forget what you have lost.’

  ‘I am easier with it now,’ he said.

  She did not believe him.

  ‘In fact, I am considering rebuilding the town house.’ He did not have to tell her what town house he meant.

  The one in which his family died in a horrific fire.

  ‘I did not realise the house was still in disrepair,’ she said.

  He shrugged. ‘Last year I had the exterior walls repaired and the windows replaced so that the damage would no longer blight the terrace on which it stands. The inside was cleaned of damage, but it is an empty shell.’

  ‘So you cannot live there at present.’ Obviously not, if it was a shell. ‘Do you wish to live there?’

  ‘A year ago I would have said I’d never set foot in there again,’ he responded. ‘But now...perhaps. More likely I’ll offer it for rent, though.’

  ‘Where are you living now?’ She realised she did not know. So much she did not know of him.

  ‘With Ross’s father and stepmother.’ He shifted in his chair. ‘I am grateful to them. They have made a home for me ever since—ever since the fire. Ross brought me there. The Duke has been an enormous help in my finding my way in the Lords, but, with Ross in his own house with Genna, I think it is time for me to leave. It makes sense for me to go to a property that is mine rather than lease rooms somewhere.’

  ‘Do you have a plan for the town house?’ she asked. ‘Do you want to restore it to how it used to look or make it into something new?’ Either way seemed an exciting task. She envied him. Think what a challenge it would be.

  ‘It can never be what it was,’ he said, his voice low.

  Her heart ached for him. This was grief, a grief she’d never felt for her husband, nor for her father. The closest she could come was the grief of her mother’s abandonment. ‘Then you must make it into something new and beautiful, but something that will make it seem like a home that is all yours.’

  ‘I would not know where to begin.’ He gave her a direct gaze. ‘Help me with it.’