“In the last three weeks Lady Constance has received over two dozen invitations to balls and picnics. She has attended only four events. The Countess of Fairclough sent an invitation to her daughter’s debut ball, and Lady Constance said no,” Ainsley informed him.
Lucan gritted his teeth. Why wasn’t she blasted heading out? He had been working so hard, pulling in favors to turn the tide against her and it was all for naught? “Is she doing well otherwise?”
As a favor to him Ainsley had attended each event as a guardian. Watching her from the shadows and reporting to Lucan his perception of how she was being received. Ainsley also served to smooth out any negative talk Lady Ashford and the Dowager Duchess had not reached.
Ainsley sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “You could go and visit her, Lucan, invite her to ride out with you. Better yet, she is standing right across from us. Go ask her to dance. She may be tempted to accept you,” Ainsley suggested.
Lucan glanced at him wondering if he jested, but his friend’s mien was contemplative. “I am sure you jest.”
Ainsley raised his brow. “You have not been sleeping or eating. You have forgiven debts of thousands of pounds. You gave Lord Prescott back his twenty thousand pounds and that very beautiful estate in Essex for a simple invitation to his lady’s annual ball. The invitation could have been secured for far less, I wager.”
Lucan went silent. “It is not time to approach her as yet.”
Ainsley laughed mockingly. “We know time waits on no man.”
Lucan went cold, knowing Ainsley referred to the painful experience of losing his lady. Lucan tensed as Constance suddenly stiffened. She tilted her head and stared directly at him. It was impossible for her see him, but then he recalled her passionate assurances that she could always feel his gaze upon her. Heated awareness rippled over his skin, Ainsley’s presence faded, and all Lucan could see was Constance. Her eyes widened, and a flush of color climbed her cheeks. She took an instinctive step toward him, then grounded to a halt. Her hands visibly trembled, she pressed a palm to her stomach and inhaled deeply. Her eyes darkened with roiling emotions, daring him to approach her.
Lucan’s heart jerked a painful cadence in his chest, and he found himself moving across the terrace floor, closer to her, unable to suppress the desire to just be nearer. He stopped shy of entering the ballroom, cocooned in the shadows. They stared at each other for what seemed like endless moments. It pained Lucan to see the unguarded delight glittering in her emerald gaze slowly dampened, before her expression shuttered. Her lashes lowered, and she subtly shifted away, halting the need urging him to walk over to her. A soft breath escaped his lips. No…it was definitely not the time to approach her, especially with Society’s watchful eyes still upon her.
Ainsley came up beside him. “When will you go to her and plead your case?”
To her? The pleasure that had warmed her eyes upon seeing him filled Lucan with hope, but he’d also espied the flash of raw agony, and the strength of her continued pain sliced deep. She needed more time. But to her family… He clenched his teeth as he faced what he should have done weeks ago, but had been delaying. “I have an appointment to see Calydon tomorrow.”
“Hell!”
Lucan understood Ainsley’s sentiment. In all his plotting, he never imagined he would be visiting Calydon under such circumstances. Calydon had stepped into Decadence the week before and Lucan had fought off the primitive wave of satisfaction that had filled him. Instead of forcing the confrontation he had plotted for so many months, Lucan had ducked out, shocking himself. It was then he had understood the depth of how much Constance meant to him. He had drawn on his coat and hat, collected his cane, escaped the building, and walked toward the Thames, watching the subtle currents that ran in the water. That was when he had realized he had abandoned all revenge against Calydon. Albeit too late. To have Constance in his life, he must do so with a clean slate, a heart clean of vengeance. And suddenly it had been easy. There had been no fight, no regret, just hope that she would forgive him for hurting her. And he would be able to claim the woman he had come to love.
Chapter Nineteen
The silence in Calydon’s library was a cold one, yet it had not discomfited Lucan. The man had expected Lucan, and he had been received with civility. Calydon’s duchess had floated in only a few seconds after Lucan was given entrance to the library, obviously pregnant and clearly hoping to make the tension that now seethed in the air less somehow. Lucan feared she failed abysmally. Calydon indicated she should wait in the drawing room, and she had only muttered “nonsense” with a smile and taken a seat.