“Is that so? I am glad to hear of that at least.”
Tara said nothing more, and it was to her relief that her sister and Miss Duncansby quickly came to join them. The conversation drew onto another subject and Tara moved back a little, so that she might once again stand silently. Her whole body was shaking, tension crackling around her and her mind filled with a furious buzzing that demanded quiet, even though she had no possibility of gaining such a thing.
“Alas, I must take my leave of you. I am promised to another for the cotillion.” Lord Pottinger clicked his heels together, bowed, and kept that warm smile on his face. “I am now to dance with Lady Helena, but it has been a pleasure to step out with the three of you.”
“The pleasure has been ours, I assure you,” Mary replied, allowing Tara to remain silent. “Thank you, Lord Pottinger.”
Tara lifted her eyes to his face for another moment, fully expecting his attention to be on her sister, but instead he smiled only at her. Something heavy fell into the pit of her stomach and she turned her head away. Lord Pottinger left their company and Tara finally felt able to draw in enough of a breath to push away some of her fears.
What exactly did Lord Pottinger mean by his questions?
Was he genuine in his uncertainty, or was he merely seeking a way to force the truth from her already heavily burdened soul?
Tara told herself to believe the former, but as she dropped her head even lower, a great despair captured her. Despite her sister’s determined intentions, she would have to stay far from Lord Pottinger, for that was the only way that she would be able to keep herself safe from him. She could only pray that he would not seek her out for, if he did so, then Tara had no thought of what she might do to avoid the revelation of the truth. What if he was to recognize her and realize why he had previous knowledge of her? Yes, they had not been introduced but Tara knew far more of him than he was aware of at present. She did not believe that there could ever be enough forgiveness for that.
Chapter Five
It was all very strange to be dancing with the young ladies of society, knowing that within only a few short weeks, he would be penniless. James sighed heavily to himself, struggling with a deep sense of impending doom. Muttering to himself, he made his way from the window back towards his desk, sitting down heavily in the straight-backed wooden chair. It offered him very little comfort, but comfort was not what he required at this present moment. Last evening had been an excellent one, but he had lost himself for far too long. It was as if he had been back within society without a single thing to trouble him, as though he had not the smallest difficulty to distress him. He had smiled and laughed and danced and done all that a gentleman in London ought to do. He had found himself new acquaintances, had reunited with old, and had completely forgotten all about his present difficulties.
Now, however, he returned to face his future. A future so very dark that James shuddered every time he considered it. The vowel that he had signed sat quietly on his desk, mocking him for his lack of progress. He had been in London near a fortnight and yet still had done very little regarding his present troubles. Yes, he had spoken to his friends, and they had urged him to act, but thus far, he had done very little else. It was as if he were afraid to even begin - and yet, James was all too aware that the longer he went without paying off his vowel, the more difficulty he might find himself in. He was uncertain of what threat might be leveled at him should he refuse to pay, legal or otherwise, but at the very least, the person responsible for all of this could ruin his reputation entirely. All it would take would be the smallest whisper and his reputation in society as one of the most eligible, amiable gentlemen in all of England would be shot apart. The pieces would be flung far, and he would have no hope of ever restoring his honor again - and that would only be with the briefest of whispers. What more could be done to him if there was proof made visible to society?
His eyes forced themselves back down towards his vowel. He did not recognize the hand that had written it, but he certainly recognized his own signature. There was no escaping it, hehadsigned this, and in doing so, had broken his life apart.
“I did nothing wrong.”
Repeating those words twice over brought James no comfort. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that any gentleman of society might choose to visit an establishment such as the one he had found himself in, his guilt remained. How often had he silently promised that he would never become the sort of fellow his father had been, a man who had done nothing but seek out his own pleasures at the expense of all those who had loved him – or who had tried to love him, at the very least. Since taking on the title, James had managed to keep his vow. Perhaps that was why he now had such a sterling reputation, a reputation which was of great importance to him – possibly more important than he could express. But he wanted to be known as a better gentleman than his father had ever been, and a single word about this matter and all would be ruined.
“I did sign this,” he sighed aloud, looking down at the paper and swallowing the tight ball that rolled itself into his throat.
Yes, he had signed it, but he had been alone, naked, and overwhelmed by the circumstances he had found himself in. He had been afraid that he would not be given anything back if he did not comply, but had he known that he was signing away almost the entirety of his fortune, then he would never have put pen to paper.
Slowly, his eyes traveled away from the vowel to the sapphire pendant that sat beside it. It was the only thing he had of substance, aside from the vowel itself, the only thing that could link him to that night. What had the lady meant when she had told him that he had not broken his vow? And why had she seemed so afraid? It was not as though a young lady in her position would normally do anything that would push a gentleman such as himself away, for those who worked in such an establishment would be eager to retain the custom of those who came to visit. Their desire was surely that they would call upon the establishment repeatedly, so why, then, had she warned him to stay away? What dangers had been lurking that he had been unable to see?
Picking up the pendant, he slammed his other hand down flat on the desk as the sapphire twinkled in the light.
“Iwillfind her,” he gritted out, his whole body suddenly twisting as a flood of anger began to set the blood in his veins alight. “Imustfind her.”
The door was suddenly flung open, and none other than Lord Stoneleigh walked in.
“Good afternoon! I did not think that I required the butler to announce me,” he chuckled, as James slowly set the pendant back down on the desk, making as little noise as possible so that his friend would not notice. “I thought to come and see how you were, particularly after last evening.” Lord Stoneleigh’s smile faded a little as he threw himself into a chair. “From my experience, I know it can be very difficult pretending to be quite contented when one’s world is tilting to the side. You appeared to be enjoying yourself at least, however.”
“I did, very much so.” There was no shame in admitting such a thing, he considered. “I was introduced to a few new acquaintances and spoke with a few old ones. Many have asked as regarded my absence from society these last few weeks, but my excuses came conveniently enough.”
Lord Stoneleigh’s eyebrow lifted and James chuckled, a little sadly.
“I simply said that I had an ailing uncle and was required to go to him, to make certain that all was well since my mother insisted that it was the least I could do. He is quite recovered now, though.”
Lord Stoneleigh grinned, but his eyes remained a little dark.
“You enjoyed a good deal of company, then?”
James nodded.
“I did notice that you seemed a little taken with one young lady in particular. Was it a Miss Shaw? Someone you have not been introduced to before?”
“Miss Shaw?” The name came back to him easily enough, but he did not want to make his friend aware of it. “If she was a new acquaintance, then I will confess that I have already tried and failed to remember a good many names!”
The truth was, of course, that hedidrecall Miss Shaw, but simply could not remember when he had first been introduced to the lady. Her certainty that they had never been so before had confused him, but that lingering sureness remained – unless it was simply that her dark gold crown of hair and astonishingly captivating hazel eyes had taken his interest in a way he had not expected.
