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Mistress at Midnight(24)

By:Sophia James


'Mrs St Harlow.'

He looked less than pleased to see her.

'Lord Hawkhurst.'

Quietly he came closer, careful not to touch, the white in his necktie standing out boldly.

'Do you think that our salvation might lie in formality?' His voice  sounded tired and wary, the slur of his words indicating that he had  drunk far more than he should have.

'I don't understand.'

'You and I, my lady. Do we skirt around each other forever or do we take  a chance and see just where it is this attraction could lead us?'

'You speak in riddles, my lord.' She hated the forced joviality in her voice, a tone she had so often used with Charles.

'Do I?' He reached out then, and caught her hand, the anger in him felt  in even such a small movement. 'The riddle of lust is not so hard to  comprehend.' Laying his finger against her wrist, he waited. 'See, it is  in your blood tonight, calling me, remembering the other times between  us … '                       
       
           



       

'No.' Her husband had done this, too, pressuring her at the most  inopportune of moments, expecting a response, but she was wiser now and  older and the horror that blossomed was like a weapon. 'You have had too  much to drink, my lord, and your mind is addled.' She threw off his  touch, pleased when his hands stayed at his side.

'Not addled, but disappointed. The culmination of a life's work, I  suppose, and too little goodness in it.' He tipped his head. 'Are you  God-sent, Aurelia? Could you heal the demons that lurk inside me once  and for all?'

A different tack. His hands shook more tonight than she had ever seen them do. The wine, perhaps, or the memories?

'I thought you had already refused my prior suggestion of … closeness, Lord Hawkhurst?'

'Those suggestions given without any form of passion?' He laughed. 'I am not seeking to be a pawn of politics.'

'Then what is it you are after?'

'I only wish I knew.'

The silence lengthened, though it was not difficult or uncomfortable.  Wordlessness had its own sort of communication after all, the small turn  of a head, the warmth of body heat, the smell of violets and woodsmoke  mixed as one.

Finally he spoke again. 'From what I have heard, the state of your union     with my cousin was not exactly holy.'

Tonight with all that he knew of her she could no longer skirt around the truth. 'Indeed, our marriage was a mistake.'

'So you killed him?'

In the half-light she saw a tick in the muscle of his jaw, as if he were  holding it tense against an answer and the anger in her was as raw as  it had been four years ago. 'I cannot deny that I wanted to, though in  the end Charles died from his own lack of morals. He brutally raped a  pregnant servant and her distraught father made sure that there would be  no further … indiscretions. Every woman on the estate probably breathed a  little easier that afternoon. I know I did.'

'You told the court this?'

'No. I told them only what it was I had seen.'

'Which was … ?'

'I said that my husband had jumped across a poorly constructed barrier  whilst exercising his favourite horse and had fallen badly.'

The music inside the ballroom reached them here, soft and lilting  against the harsh truth, her candid honesty allowing the sort of relief  she could barely believe was possible and even when he remained silent  she did not wish to take it back.

'The consideration of any family name is important, do you not think, my  lord? I felt that generations of Hawkhursts suffering for the poor  judgement of one weak-willed relative was unfair and so I chose to offer  another explanation.'

When his eyes darkened she turned to watch the night, hating the way her heart beat so very quickly.

Aurelia St Harlow had allowed herself to be ostracized for years for a  crime she had not committed and all in the guise of protection? She was a  saint rather than a sinner and if his cousin had materialised out of  the darkness then and there he would have killed him himself for  everything he had put her through: a court case public and damning and  the whispers of her involvement in Charles's demise following her every  move.

He remembered the way she had come through the crowd at his ball as the  ton had given her the cut direct, her chin held high and a smile set on  her face. Like a player just before the curtain rises, a certain brittle  confidence in her eyes allowing only the glimpse of fright.

'A difficult secret.'

Her small nod in response made him swear.

'And a fiction that has held you a prisoner for years?'

This time she looked at him directly. 'There is no way to refute all  that has been said of me and I would countenance no suggestions  otherwise. It is not redemption I am searching for, my lord.' Her  fingers rose to her neck and he saw that the small diamond pendant he  had recovered was back in place. 'Once my sisters are settled into  society and I have sold my business I can retire with my father into the  very depths of the countryside and I shall never look back.'

The distress in her eyes made his heart ache. She was like a small and  single rose trying to survive through a crack in concrete.

'A sombre ending for a woman who has sacrificed herself for the good of  others. If it were me, I should continue on with the colourful gowns and  confuse everybody. What more could they say of you, after all?'

Her left hand pulled at the gaping silk of her bodice, trying to close it. 'Once I might not have cared, but now … '

He laughed. 'You are the most fearsome female of my acquaintance, Aurelia. Do not let anyone tell you differently.'                       
       
           



       

Her smile brought deep dimples to her cheeks. 'I will take that as a compliment, my lord.'

'My cousin never deserved you. He was a man who even as a boy was not  easy. He lost his parents just after I lost mine and maybe because of it  was damaged. In the end I gave up on trying to know him.'

'Which is why I never saw you at Medlands.'

He shook his head. 'There were other reasons, too.'

'You were in Europe?'

'For a long time.' He smiled.

He wished he could have said more. He wondered at his cousin's rumoured  predilection for racy women and fast parties. What had Aurelia seen in a  man so untrustworthy and selfish and why had she married him in the  first place? So many questions to ask and to answer, hers and his, the  worlds they inhabited underpinned by unrevealed confidences.

She had saved him at Taylor's Gap with her chatter and a kiss that had  simply scorched away any desire to end it all. He might have jumped if  she had not been there, pushing through a flimsy barrier to a welcomed  oblivion. But instead …

He reached forwards to take a vibrant red curl with his finger, the silk  of it falling across his palm. 'Then I must thank you for tending to  the Hawkhurst family name as Charles so obviously did not.'

When she nodded he simply left because he did not wish to tell her more  and because every part of him wanted to. Gathering his wits about him,  he stepped into the light of the ballroom and made his way through the  crowded salons to the front portico.

Aurelia closed her eyes and tried to find her composure. She had told  him exactly what she said she wouldn't and yet relief was the only  emotion she could truly identify. Her fingers strayed to her pendant,  liking the familiar feel of it.

She had been amazed that he had even remembered the piece, let alone tracked it down and repossessed it. For her.

At the sound of a door opening she took in breath. Had he returned?

'I saw Stephen leave,' Cassandra Lindsay said, 'and he did not look  happy. My guess is that you do not, either.' Aurelia saw a question in  the other woman's eyes as she turned.

'Nathaniel and I have known Hawk for ever. He is a fine friend and a  good man, though for the past six months he has been …  . melancholic and  pensive.' She stopped and placed her palms across the stone on the top  of the terrace wall. Like an anchor. Or a prayer.

Aurelia waited. Sometimes people needed to find their thoughts without interruption.

'We wondered if it was his search for a wife that was making him  maudlin. Elizabeth Berkeley is a lovely girl, but she is hardly … strong.'

The word surprised Aurelia. 'Perhaps strength is not what he needs.  Perhaps simple, honest and uncomplicated would chase away the demons?'

Cassandra laughed. 'That is what he thinks he needs, but I have had this  conversation with my husband many times over and we have come to the  conclusion that he needs a woman who can bring him to life again … one who  could save him from himself, one who might be able to endure the  barriers that he will undoubtedly erect.'

The cliff on Taylor's Gap came to Aurelia's mind. Perhaps he would have pushed further had she not been there?

'Espionage is not an occupation that would leave one much joy, I suspect.'

'You know what he does?' Surprise tempered Cassandra Lindsay's words.

'I have heard rumours.'