Someone rapped on the door again.
“I am coming!”
Her voice was not overly loud, but it was filled with an urgency that had James’s heart beating furiously. She was afraid. In his heart, he already knew that such a fear would keep her from speaking with him any further.
The door opened, signaled by the squeak of its hinges.
“Your things, my Lord.”
A candle flickered in the doorway as she set his things on the bed, refusing to come near him any longer.
“What were you to say?” he asked quietly, but she was already moving back towards the door and the figures clothed in shadows who stood there.
“Another candle will be brought to you in a moment.”
Another voice, a harsher voice, spoke to James, and he narrowed his eyes, trying to work out exactly who was speaking, but he could see no one. The next moment, the candle in the doorway began to fade away. The young lady picked up her own and began to walk away, leaving him to linger in the darkness James wanted to call out, wanted to demand that the young lady return to him, stating that he would be willing to pay a small fortune for her company, but the words stuck in his throat. Confusion tied itself around him, pulling his chest tight. He had no understanding of why this young lady had spoken to him in such a manner, nor what she had meant by any of what she had said. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose, anger and frustration flooding him.
And yet in the darkness, James was certain he heard one final whisper.
“Forgive me.”
Chapter Two
Tara pressed one hand to her stomach. She was well used to fading into the background, given that this was her third Season and no gentleman had ever really looked in her direction, and yet she was still afraid that someone might see her. They might take in her pale features and her wide eyes, and be able to tell that she was riddled with guilt.
It had been a little over three weeks since that dark night, and she was still unable to forget everything which had taken place. Lord Pottinger had not returned to society, nor had he shown his face in any part of London, as far as she was aware. No doubt he was currently coming to terms with the heavy weight that she had placed over him. He would have no other choice but to pay what was demanded, or else face the wrath and mockery of society which would ruin him in more than one way.
Perhaps he had already paid it, although no doubt the amount due would have crippled him. Silently, Tara almost continually prayed that it would not be too much for him to bear. Perhaps he was a wealthier gentleman than she knew. Perhaps this would not cause him as much difficulty as she feared it might.
“Why must you always hide away?” A gentle voice made Tara start violently, so lost in her thoughts had she been that she had not even noticed her own sister coming to speak with her. “If anyone has cause to hide themselves away, then it is I.”
“Nonsense.” Trying to push away her overwhelming thoughts, Tara smiled at her sister, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “You are unused to London society and were taken in by someone who ought not to have used your naivety to his advantage. I do not blame you.”
“But you did not have to attempt to save me as you did,” came her sister’s quiet reply. “You will not speak of it with me, though.” Again, she began the line of questioning that Tara knew would only bring both disappointment and frustration. “I must know what took place, dear sister. If you are in any difficulty because of me, then –”
“And I have told you already, the gentleman does not require anything of you.” Tara smiled softly, having no desire to argue with her younger sister. “You are quite safe, as am I. Now you can go on to enjoy this Season and find yourself a most amiable husband, for I should like you to have naught but happiness, my dear.”
“I would say the very same to you,” was her sister’s response, her hazel eyes – so similar in color to Tara’s – holding steadily to hers. “I have the distinct impression that you are not telling me all of the truth about everything, that you are hiding something from me.”
“What would there be for me to hide?” Tara forced another smile, covering the lie somehow. “You need not concern yourself with this matter anymore, Mary. The only thing for you to do at present is to put all of your efforts into finding a suitable gentleman.”
Her sister sighed.
“Yes, Tara, I know.”
This time, Tara’s quiet smile was not forced. Mary had always been the beauty of the family, while she herself was a little lacking, not only in beauty, but in confidence. Her father, who had already settled his eldest son, and his eldest daughter, in matrimony, now seemed to care very little for Tara and Mary’s situations. Without a mother to care for them, it fell to Tara to make certain that Mary was given the very best of Seasons and, with any luck, would make a suitable match.
“But what have you?” Mary replied, grasping Tara’s hand. “You are on yourthirdSeason. Youmustwed this year, surely.”
“And as I have promised you. I will not do so until you are settled.”
This was not a decision that had been forced upon Tara, but one that she had chosen to make. It appeared to be the right one for, given what had occurred, Tara was all too aware that she would have to keep a much closer eye on her younger sister so that she would not be pulled into such an unfortunate circumstance again.
“If you are worried about me, then you need not be so.” Mary spoke as if she understood all that Tara was thinking. “I would not allow myself to be so fooled again.”
“Many gentlemen in London cannot be trusted,” Tara remarked, her lips tugging downwards. “Many are considerate and kind, however, but you must always be on your guard. Generous words and a kind smile can hide a great deal. It is better to know the gentleman’s character well before committing yourself to any sort of… furthering of your acquaintance with him.”
“Something which I have already learned!” Mary protested. “You are much too concerned for me. I will never give you cause to doubt me again.”
