A Lady's Virture Read online

  “As a young person, I can confirm that while we do think about the future, we also always think there will be time.” His father lying on his deathbed flashed into Anthony’s mind. Charles Braighton had been the strongest person he’d known. Then he’d been gone in a flash. “I suppose we should know better.”

  “The thing to remember is how important timing is. If you see an opportunity to enhance your happiness, you have to seize it before the moment passes.”

  “Are you implying that I am missing my moment, my lady?”

  Honoria gave him a wistful smile and sighed. “That is not for me to say, my lord. I have heard you desire to remain a bachelor. If that is true, perhaps you will let many opportunities pass you.”

  “Marrying is not in my plans for the moment.”

  “A moment too late is a moment gone,” she said.

  “What exactly are we talking about?” Most women were confusing, but Honoria Chervil left him completely baffled. He’d not felt so lost since his first day at school.

  She waved a hand in the air. “Life and youth. I missed going to America and I would hate for you to miss a great opportunity to be happy. That is all.”

  “And where do you suppose I might find my happiness?”

  Staring at the ceiling in thought, Honoria touched her finger to her chin. “I’m not sure, but I think you might attend the Rochester ball a week from Friday.”

  “Is that so?” His mother wanted him to marry. It seemed Lady Chervil wanted him to marry. He had no idea what Sylvia wanted, but her dismissal of his kiss indicated she did not want him. Not that it mattered. He would not marry until he was too old to have any fun. Then he would marry someone who could sustain their own amusement. He would never become emotionally attached. He had enough people to care for.

  Rising, Honoria smiled. “It is my best guess, my lord. I shall go and find Miss Wittman now. After all, I am her chaperon.”

  “Are you also often Miss Dowder’s chaperon, my lady?”

  “Actually, I have never had the pleasure of working with Miss Dowder. However, we are good friends and I am quite fond of her. She is one of brightest and funniest young women I have ever known. And since I meet a great many intelligent women at the Everton Domestic Society, it’s quite a compliment.”

  Refusing to debate a point that he agreed with or discuss Sylvia in detail with Honoria or anyone, he bowed. “I’m sure you are right. Shall I show you the way down to the kitchen?”

  She waved her hand frivolously again and trotted out the door. “I can find my own way.”

  Somehow, Anthony had been run down by the passing carriage that was Lady Honoria Chervil. Did she want him to court Sylvia or go to America before he was too old? Since he’d already been to America, he assumed it was the first. It didn’t matter what anyone else wanted or if he liked Sylvia more than he’d ever liked anyone. He would not give up his bachelorhood or his dreams.

  * * * *

  As many times as he swore he would not attend the Rochester ball, he stepped into the ballroom and ignored every pretty girl who tried to catch his eye. Scanning the room, he immediately found Sylvia in a yellow gown. Her hair shone in the candlelight, and when she spotted him, the blue of her eyes brightened.

  Perhaps he had imagined excitement in her expression, but he wanted to believe she was happy to see him. Though, he hated how much he’d missed her and had denied his foul mood all week.

  He crossed the ballroom, trying to ignore the whispers from the crowd. The Rochester townhouse reminded him of his own before Sylvia’s redecorating. Dark drapes hung from bronze poles and gold and blue papered the walls. A breeze blew in from the open doors leading out to the garden.

  A round-faced girl with blond hair and a full figure bounced next to Sylvia and whispered in her ear.

  Dipping her head, Sylvia replied to the girl but never took her gaze away from his. “Good evening, my lord. What brings you out?”

  He bowed. “I was invited.”

  “Of course. It’s only I’m surprised you would attend this particular ball.”

  It wouldn’t do to tell her the truth about why he’d come. “A man in my position must be seen around town. That’s what my mother says anyway.”

  The fake smile she’d plastered on her lips morphed into genuine pleasure, making his embarrassment well worth it. “Pardon me, my lord. May I introduce Miss Roberta Fletcher? Miss Fletcher, the Earl of Grafton.”

  Roberta stopped bouncing long enough to curtsy, and he bowed. “Nice to meet you, Miss Fletcher. Is this your first ball?”

  “Yes, my lord. Miss Dowder is keeping me out of trouble.”

  “I’m sure she is.” He didn’t envy Sylvia her charge. “Miss Dowder has a knack for such things.”

  Sylvia cocked her head. “Indeed? In that case, my lord, perhaps you will stand up with Miss Fletcher. She is free for the next dance.”

  Being trapped into dancing with a child of perhaps sixteen was not part of his plan for the evening, but perhaps he could turn it to his advantage. “It would be my honor, if you will dance the next with me, Miss Dowder.”

  A dozen arguments flitted across her eyes, but she wanted her charge to have a good first ball, and an earl dancing with her would give other men leave to do the same. He might be American, but he knew how London society worked. There were very few leaders and far too many followers.

  Nodding, Sylvia frowned.

  Thrilled with the outcome, as the music started, he offered Miss Fletcher his arm and led her out for the quadrille.

  As the dancers gathered, Roberta said, “You and Miss Dowder have known each other a long time, I suppose.”

  “For some time. Though, we have only recently become friends.”

  “She was your Everton lady?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. You seemed very eager to see her when you walked in. I wonder that you don’t court her.” Roberta took her place for the dance.

  He was glad it was a dance with little time for conversation. For someone so young, Roberta had a lot to say on a subject that was not her business. He had behaved stupidly by striding directly to Sylvia the moment he entered. Yet it wasn’t in his nature to be coy. She was his Everton lady and he would get her to come back. That was all he wanted from Sylvia Dowder.

  Courting Sylvia was out of the question. He didn’t want to court anyone, as it led to engagement and marriage. No. His life had no room for a wife. He just needed his Everton lady back, and things would be fine.

  The dance ended, and Roberta took his arm. “You were thinking about her all through the dance, my lord. It was clearly on your face. Why not court a lady you are obviously interested in? It’s far better than being forced to marry someone you don’t even like.”

  “You are mistaken, Miss Fletcher. I have no feelings for Miss Dowder. She has been in service to me as an Everton lady, nothing more.”

  She wrinkled her freckled nose. “I may be young, my lord, but I’m not a fool. I can see in your eyes and in hers that it is more than that. You are in love with her, and she is in danger of falling in love with you.”

  “Impossible.” Saying more to his new acquaintance would be rude, and he didn’t need a girl screaming and crying from the room.

  She stopped and faced him. “All things seem impossible until they happen for the first time. Thank you for the dance.” With a quick curtsy, she rushed over to a group of girls, who all giggled.

  On the other side of the room, half obscured by the curtains, Sylvia hid in the corner. She was watching Miss Fletcher so didn’t notice his approach.

  “I believe I have the next dance, Sylvie.” He held out his arm.

  “While I appreciate you dancing with Roberta, I see no point in our dancing, my lord.”

  “My name is Tony. You promised me a dance, and as it is the only reason I agreed to stand u
p with your Miss Fletcher, I won’t be sent away.”

  With a sigh, she took his arm. “Why are you doing this, Tony? You wanted a new Everton lady and you got one. You wanted to prove you didn’t need a wife, and you’ve nearly done so. What can you possibly want from me?”

  The waltz began, and he took her in his arms. Despite their difference in height, she fit him perfectly and they moved as one around the floor. “I’m not doing anything, Sylvie. I miss having you take care of my hosting responsibilities, and I want to apologize and ask you to come back. It was why I came to Everton House the other day, but I got sidetracked and Lady Jane interrupted.”

  She met his gaze. “Is Ann not to your liking?”

  Sometimes he wished he was a good liar. This would have been a perfect time to tell her Ann had made some grievous error. “Ann works hard and knows how to plan a ball. I have no complaints.”

  “Then I see no reason to cause everyone more difficulties. I shall help Miss Fletcher with her debut, and Ann will be your Everton lady.” She swallowed hard, and he couldn’t help staring at the soft bob of her throat and wishing he could run a string of kisses along that movement.

  He tightened his hand at her back. “I think it would be better if you came back, Sylvie. I’m sure my ball and house party will be much more successful if you are the hostess.”

  “No. I’m committed to Roberta now. You know that our personalities do not work well together. It is better this way.”

  Every word set the vise around his heart tighter. “Is this because I kissed you?”

  “Must you always be so blunt?”

  “I suppose I must. I am blunt and honest. I realize these are not qualities prided among you English, but I thought you were different.” Inside his head, he screamed at himself to hold his temper, but it still simmered just below the surface.

  She stopped dancing and stepped back from him. “I am not different. I am an English lady whose father is a gentleman, and you would do well to remember that.”

  “You are making a scene, Miss Dowder.” He offered her his embrace to finish the dance.

  Stepping back into the circle of his arms, she held her tears at bay. “I’m a lady, Tony. Whatever it is you want, it doesn’t fit within my life and expectations.”

  He couldn’t bear her tears or that he was the cause of them. “I have always treated you with the utmost respect. I admit I shouldn’t have kissed you but refuse to regret a moment that was pure and honest. Frankly, it was the sweetest minute of my life. I’m only sorry that you were hurt by it.”

  Blinking her tears away, she said, “Not hurt, confused and ashamed.”

  The music ended. “Come back, Sylvie.”

  “No.”

  He bowed. “Then you leave me no choice.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, but he turned and walked away. She would see soon enough what he meant when he arrived at Everton House in the morning. On the veranda, he took several long deep breaths and tried to cool his desire to kiss her senseless.

  “That was quite a show,” Miles Hallsmith said and handed him a glass of wine.

  Taking the wine, he noted a couple sneaking into the shadows of the garden. The burgundy was bold and well formed. He sipped. “What are you talking about?”

  “You and the little blonde then Miss Dowder have given the entire ballroom gossip for days.” Miles drank his wine and leaned against the stone balustrade.

  “How did I do that?”

  “Let me see. First you strode with a single focus to speak to Miss Dowder, a lady beyond society’s ideas of marriageable. Then you danced the first dance with a young girl of no title who is just out. If that wasn’t enough to get the tongues wagging, you then danced the waltz with Miss Dowder and the two of you seemed to be involved in an impassioned conversation.” Miles raised one dark red eyebrow.

  A long sigh escaped Anthony’s lips. “I suppose I could have been more discreet.”

  Miles’s laugh was bold and filled with joy. “My friend, you are the least discreet person I know. I only suggest you mind the lady’s reputation. It is already tested by her being in Everton’s employ. Making a spectacle of her could make her very unpopular. A lady’s virtue is all she has in this society. You would not wish to jeopardize her professional status.”

  “No. I would not wish to do that. I can’t seem to make her see reason.” He downed the remaining wine and put the glass on the railing.

  Miles lowered his voice. “What are you trying to convince her to do?”

  “I lost my temper and asked for a new lady. It was a mistake, and I’m just trying to get her to come back.” Lord, he sounded like an idiot.

  “Is not one Everton lady the same as the next?” Miles’s smile said he knew the answer.

  “Evidently not.”

  “May I ask you something personal, Grafton?”

  Anthony would never get used to his title. “Can I stop you?”

  Miles shrugged. “Have you changed your determination to not marry?”

  “No. Why would you ask that?”

  “Well, you want to keep Miss Dowder close, yet you do not wish to marry her or anyone else. Do you plan to make her your mistress?”

  “Of course not. She’s a lady.” Anthony considered calling Miles out for suggesting such a thing. He would never think of Sylvia so crassly. Though, it pained him that he had made her think of herself in those terms. His desires were a jumble of emotions that he couldn’t sort through.

  “My point exactly. You have fired her but want her back. You approach her as if she is the only woman in the ballroom and have a passionate talk while dancing. You say you will not court her, yet you expect her to return to your home as an employee. I think the lady should stay as far away from you as possible.” Miles picked up his glass and walked back into the ballroom.

  A glimpse of yellow caught his eye. Turning, he watched Sylvia leave the ballroom and step around the corner of the house.

  Miles’s warning rang in his ears, but his feet followed her into the shadows. The full moon shone down on her. She was a goddess. “Are you hiding again?”

  The nook of the veranda separated them from the rest of the crowd, but anyone who rounded the corner would see them alone together. “You should go back inside, Tony.”

  “You should walk with me in the garden where we won’t be seen.”

  “Why?” No sign of shock, she sounded weary.

  “I want to talk, to apologize for my behavior. Miles was out here and made me see that I have not been a gentleman where you are concerned. I have put you in a dangerous position. Tell me how I can make amends.”

  “I will be fine, Tony. I have the Everton Domestic Society to protect me, and you have your title. In a few weeks no one will even remember you sought me out.” She kept both hands on the stone rail and would not look at him.

  Voices carried out from the ballroom. Anthony glanced back to be sure no one was coming around the side of the house. “Will you remember, Sylvie?”

  “For the rest of my life.” She let go of the stone and looked at him for the first time since he’d followed her. Tears again glowed in her blue eyes.

  More voices.

  The unexplainable ache in his chest doubled. All his resolve to remain a bachelor seemed foolish. He reached out his hand. “Please, Sylvie, walk with me.”

  She backed away toward the small staircase leading down to the garden.

  Certain she was running away to leave him brokenhearted, when she reached her hand toward him, he leaped forward and took it. Then he hurried into the shadows, so they wouldn’t be seen. A niche in the stone wall was partially covered by shrubbery and he eased her into the space. “What is it about you that makes me act this way? I never wanted to be responsible for anyone else’s happiness.”

  She reached up and ran her fingers along the
side of his face. “No one can be responsible for another’s true happiness. You can only be a good man and do what you think is right. We are each in charge of our own feelings.”

  Leaning into her touch, he turned his head and kissed her palm. “If my actions have brought you sorrow, I shall never forgive myself.”

  Her laugh rolled low and warm. “Here I was thinking you wanted to kiss me, Tony, and you really did want to talk.”

  Every fiber of his body solidified with the mention of kissing her. “I want to kiss you more than I want to take my next breath.”

  “Then you had better do so before I come to my senses.” Sylvia lifted on her toes and wrapped her hand around his neck. Her delicate yet capable fingers threaded through the back of his hair.

  Leaning in, he captured those full lips. She pulled him close, and he relished deepening the kiss, feeling her soft sigh against his tongue. When they were both breathless, he pulled back, pressed kisses along her jaw to her ear, her eyelid, her sweet nose. “I’m going to ask Jane to let you come back.”

  “Tony, this is never going to be a good thing. You can only hurt me, and in ways you cannot even imagine. I know you mean well, but what future do you see?” She pressed her forehead against his chest.

  Whenever she was in his arms, he couldn’t think of anything but the present. “I don’t know. I will promise to keep my hands and lips to myself. We shall be good friends and nothing more as long as you don’t request a kiss, Sylvie. If you do that, I can’t resist you.”

  Her silence scared him. “Ann is a wonderful Everton lady. She has done nothing wrong, but you understand me. You decorated my home as well as if I’d done it myself. You turned something I hated into a place I now call home, and I need that in the ballroom as well as at the house party.”

  Shaking her head, she pressed away from his embrace. “Come to Everton House tomorrow. I suspect you intended to do so anyway and make a big scene to bully Lady Jane into making me come back.”