“What reasons?”
“Pam’s mother is a lot like your parents. She doesn’t approve of her daughter marrying me. Not because I can’t support her, because I have plenty of money to support a wife nowadays.”
“Why then?”
“Position. She feels that the fifth son of an inconsequential baron isn’t much of a catch. Unlike you, however, Pam doesn’t care two straws what her parents think. She wants to annoy her mother,so she adores the idea of marrying someone Lady Walston doesn’t approve of. It adds tremendously to my appeal.”
“And her father? Doesn’t he have to agree, since she’s not yet twenty-one?”
“That was an easy thing to manage. I told you, Walston’s broke, and when I presented him with a very lucrative marriage settlement, he was happy to give both his permission and his blessing. So you see?” he added when she didn’t reply. “Pam is not, by any stretch of the imagination, in love with me.”
“And you?” She tilted her head, studying him with those strange, magical eyes. “If it’s not love, what is your reason for marrying her?”
Just now, looking at Kay with memories of all their past kisses throbbing through every cell of his brain and his body, his reason seemed completely futile. “Escape.”
Realizing he’d said too much, he turned to go, but her voice followed him as he walked away.
“But what are you escaping?”
He stopped. He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling, not daring to look at her. If he made that mistake, if he turned and looked at her, he wouldn’t be able to resist answering her question, and what good would that do?
He was marrying someone else, and so was she. Telling her the truth would be stupid and pointless, so instead, he resumed walking away, saying nothing, working to hang on to what little shreds of self-respect he had left.
11
Escape.
Kay didn’t know what to make of Devlin’s enigmatic comment, but for the rest of the evening, the word stayed with her, whispering in her ear as she mingled with the other guests, and echoing in her head late that night as she lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.
He was marrying Lady Pamela for escape. Escape from what?
She understood the desire for escape, of course. Hadn’t she, honestly, agreed to elope all those years ago in order to do that very thing? To escape, to run away from home? Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, she was forced to admit that the prospect of getting away from her parents’ stifling control had added to the allure of the whole thing. Africa had promised escape. Only in Birmingham had she stopped to consider the ramifications of what she was doing. She hadn’t wanted to live in Africa, not really. She hadn’t wanted to be thousands of miles from her home, and she certainly hadn’t wanted to disgrace her family or disappoint them.
All that was true, and yet perhaps all that was just an attempt to rationalize the fact that her courage had failed her. Perhaps thatwas why Devlin teasing her about being a rabbit rankled so much. She’d thought of what elopement would mean—her reputation, her parents’ disappointment, the gossip and the scandal, the cost to her sister—and her courage had failed her.
Well, if that was true, she thought crossly, she’d paid the price for losing her nerve. She’d paid in spades.
She’d thought, of course, that Devlin would stay, too. That he’d remain by her side, and they’d stand together against her father. The fact that he’d left without her had been a wound that had shaken her faith in him to the core, a wound that even her love had not been able to overcome, a wound that, even after all this time, still hurt.
She knew now that his reason for taking the money had been to build a future for them and that her parents had wrecked everything, but though she didn’t blame Devlin anymore, the pain remained. A part of her still felt that he should have stayed. Together, they could have found another way.
In the distance, she heard the grandfather clock in the corridor chime three o’clock, and she groaned, grabbed her spare pillow, and rolled onto her side.
Hugging her pillow tight, she reminded herself that none of this mattered. In three weeks she was getting married to a man who she knew would never abandon her. She knew it because Wilson never relinquished anything that belonged to him.
That, Kay realized, biting her lip as she stared into the darkness beyond her bed, wasn’t much comfort.
Do you really want to live your life letting a second man dictate to you where you’ll go and what you’ll do?
Devlin’s question was a pointless one. But despite that fact,the question continued to echo through her brain like a relentless drumbeat, and it wasn’t until dawn was breaking that Kay was able to silence it enough to fall asleep.
She woke about half past ten, unrefreshed and oddly restless. The day’s program of croquet, badminton, and other lawn games, she discovered when she went downstairs for breakfast, had been canceled due to the misty rain falling outside. The men, who didn’t seem to mind the dreary dampness, had gone fishing, much to Kay’s relief. Having spent most of the night plagued by thoughts of Devlin and Wilson, she was quite glad to have a respite from both men.
Delia had planned an afternoon of charades and other parlor games for the ladies, but being cooped up in the house with her mother and Lady Pamela all day proved to be a trial to her nerves as well. Her troubled mood did not improve through dinner, for every time she looked down the table and met Devlin’s thoughtful gaze or watched Lady Pamela listening rapturously to Wilson’s explanations of Wall Street finance, she felt troubled and agonized and uncertain all over again.
Thankfully, no one seemed to notice her preoccupation. No one, of course, except Devlin, who brought her a glass of champagne after dinner and bestowed it on her, along with a penny and a bow.
She looked down at the gleaming disc of copper he’d just placed in her palm, and she laughed. “They’re hardly worth it,” she objected, looking up.
