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The Royal Conquest(25)

By:Stacy Reid


“For now.”

She waited for him to expound, but he remained silent. Payton hesitated to pry further, though the need to learn more about him was becoming a persistent desire. “Do you have a wife?”

Startled eyes met hers. “I would not dream of tasting you if I were attached.”

She flushed. “Of course. I did not think you without honor, I…I…merely wondered if you had any attachment, and I asked the question poorly.”

“I had an understanding once, but we agreed we would not suit.”

There was a dark undertone in his voice that had her assessing him carefully. “May I ask why?”

He grimaced. “The fault lies with me. She understandably needed more from me, and I was unable to provide it.”

She touched his arms lightly, and he froze. She quickly withdrew her fingers, a blush heating her cheeks. “Such a separation must have caused you pain. I am sorry.”

“It was years ago; if it caused pain, I have forgotten,” he said in a voice that was chillingly distant.

Awareness of how secluded they were reared its head. She strolled toward the grazing horses, and he kept pace with her, each of his steps exuding masculine grace and vitality. “Thank you for riding with me. I must return to the estate. I am to be fitted for a ball gown for Lady Blythe’s midnight soiree this weekend. My mother would lambast me if I missed the modiste the duchess has been kind enough to ask to attend our needs.”

He nodded. “Reserve a spot for me on your dance card.”

Liquid warmth slid through her veins. “You will attend?”

“Yes.”

An event she had previously dreaded now had anticipation curling through her. “I am surprised.” He arched a brow, and she winced. “Please do not think me unkind. I only know the bigotry of society and had not thought Lady Blythe would have invited you to her ball.”

“Think nothing of causing me offense; I much prefer if you speak freely. My connection with Calydon allows me much within society.”

Of course. It was the same connection her family shamelessly importuned upon. Was it that he yearned to be a part of the haute monde? A sinking sensation entered her stomach. “I see.”

“The disappointment in your tone compels me to know what it is you believe you have perceived.”

“I had the thought you might wish to be a part of the coveted inner circles of the haute monde. The idea disappointed me, when it should not have. I have no right to judge you based on my desires.”

His gaze settled on her face. “And your desire is not to be associated with high society?”

Payton hesitated. “Yes.”

The twig between his fingers snapped. “May I enquire as to what happened?”

She hesitated. “I don’t belong. Months after being introduced to society I waited for someone to look at me and see the dirt beneath my fingernails.”

She held up her hands, and he lightly encircled her wrists.

“These hands have milked a cow and dug deep into the soil. They have even scrubbed a pot and lifted a chamber pot.”

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. He pulled her fingers toward his lips and brushed the lightest of a kiss across the tips. Payton wasn’t sure if she should pull from his caress or lean farther in to him. She glanced through the trees, unable to make out the indistinct forms of the players on the lawn. But if she could see them, surely they could see a man and a woman standing much too close.

“Industrious hands are not dirty, they are to be much admired,” he murmured.

“Sentiments only few would agree with.”

“What else has contributed to your distaste of high society?”

“Many young ladies I had thought close acquaintances took pleasure in reminding me I did not belong to their social circles. I ignored my discomfort, my sister’s warnings of the hypocritical nature of society, and enjoyed each lavish ball I attended. The heir to a viscountcy pursued me most ardently and I…believed I loved him.”

Mikhail’s expression became guarded, but Payton knew he held on to her every word. There was a piercing stillness about him that unsettled her, and his grip had tightened reflexively on her fingers.

“Do you still love him?”

“I do not think so.”

His expression became even more closed, and her heart thudded.

“What happened with this man?”

She pulled her fingers from his clasp, a bit thrown by his intensity. “He proposed to me, and our engagement was announced. A rumor started circulating concerning someone close to my family, and society was very cruel in their reactions. I was tarnished by association, and Lord Jensen withdrew his affections.”

And society blamed me, hated me, and cut me for it, because it was further proof of my inferiority. The unspoken words were still too painful for her to admit.