A Haughty Courtesan, page 10
He did not rethink or overanalyze his decision as he dipped his head and captured her mouth in a soft kiss.
He could not tell her he loved her because he did not wish to put her in a difficult situation, so he let her feel all his emotions through his kiss. He let her know he was utterly devastated at the knowledge of rejecting her love when she came knocking at his door. He let her know he would never be the same after this because there was no one in the world who could replace her.
Breathing hard, he rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes to hide the moisture gathering in his eyes.
“Farewell, Rose, my… lady.”
He whirled around abruptly and walked out of the room and also her life.
He informed Robert before leaving the party. He took the carriage he had shared with his friend and left for his home.
He could not believe he had almost slipped and called her, ‘my love’. At the last second, he had rectified the error and replaced it with, ‘my lady’.
There were countless emotions and decisions that were wreaking havoc on his nerves, but one decision was crystal clear.
He could not marry Lady Lillian.
He could not think of another woman when he was in love with Rose.
Chapter 16
The day of the final ball finally arrived. Lady Beatrice was getting introduced to society. It was an odd occurrence for a maiden to get introduced in the middle of the season rather than the beginning, but who knew what Mrs. Clifford Donald had in mind when she made that decision.
Lord Henry Clifford and Lord William Clifford were both in their sister’s room. They were trying to calm down their agitated sister… or so they believed.
“You look absolutely stunning, Beatrice,” William said. “There is no need to fuss over one crooked bow.”
Lady Beatrice was wearing a pink ball gown and one of the bows on the bodice was slightly crooked. She had not complained about it outright, but her constant whining and adjusting the bow, again and again, made William believe the bow was the cause of all her problems.
Beatrice glared at him. “I look like a sack of potatoes, you buffoon,” she said, stomping her foot. “I am not worried about a silly bow.”
“Beatrice!”
They looked in unison towards their mother, sitting with grace on a settee. They were so engrossed in bickering with one another that they had forgotten about their mother’s presence in the room.
“Is this how proper ladies talk and behave?” their mother said. “Stomping feet and using bad words?”
After getting thoroughly chastised, Beatrice looked down at the floor.
“I look silly,” Beatrice whined.
William was worried about her. He could not tolerate a single tear in her eyes nor an expression of sorrow on her face. She was his baby sister. She meant the world to him.
William turned towards Henry who was also looking at Beatrice with concern in his eyes.
“Tell her she does not look like a sack of potatoes,” William said.
Henry looked at him and hid his worry behind a mischievous smile. William groaned silently when he realized what he had just done.
Henry and Beatrice were always bickering with one another. They tease one another mercilessly. They never passed on an opportunity for making one another miserable.
“You look like a sick cat, Beatrice,” Henry said jovially. “Sack of potatoes would have been nice.”
Beatrice’s eyes filled with moisture and she looked at her mother. William was astonished at such a girly attitude from his rowdy sister. His confusion further increased when Beatrice held her skirt in her hands and ran towards her mother. She put her head in her mother’s lap and started sobbing.
“Henry Clifford! You should be ashamed of yourself.”
William was not the one on the receiving end of the lashing from his mother, but he felt the effect of the verbal blow. One could speculate how Henry would have felt.
“Looks like I am in trouble,” Henry said. “Mother just used my full name. That never bodes well for me.”
Beatrice sobbed harder and their mother’s hand went to the top of her head. Their mother looked at Henry in disappointment.
“Apologize to your sister,” their mother said.
Henry looked at Beatrice who had her head buried in her mother’s lap.
“Beatrice, do you really wish to see me burned?” Henry asked somberly.
Beatrice tilted her head and peeked at Henry. She was smiling mischievously.
It was at that moment William realized Beatrice had been faking all this time. She was getting even with Henry by letting Mother reprimand him.
“What sort of nonsense is this?” Mother asked, staring at Henry. “I asked you to apologize.”
Beatrice pulled her head off her mother’s lap. Standing up straight, she dusted her gown and looked at her mother.
“Let’s go, Mother, we are getting late,” Beatrice said.
Their mother looked from Henry to Beatrice and then finally her gaze settled on her most obedient son.
“What just happened?” Mother asked William.
William shrugged his shoulders and hid his smile. He knew exactly what had transpired. The siblings were used to giving hell to one another. Teasing one another was a form of love.
“They have ceased their banter for a while,” William said. “If I were in your place, I would be grateful for this moment of peace.”
Shaking her head, their mother sighed.
“Very well, let’s go.”
In their family carriage, they set out for the ball thrown by Lady Ashby. The ride was uneventful, partly due to their mother’s presence and partly because Henry and Beatrice were sitting in different carriages. William suspected the second reason was the major one, but he kept his mouth shut about it. He did not want to anger his little sister moments before her big day.
Their arrival was announced at the entrance by a footman. Their mother went her separate way with Beatrice in tow. Henry went towards the group of young bachelors gathered in a corner. Their father was also busy conversing with lords of his age.
William stood to a side, watching the festivities from a distance. He did not like spending time in the company of Henry’s friends because their conversation irritated him. They talked of their latest conquests with the ladies as if it was the proudest thing in their lives.
He looked towards the other end of the room where Lady Lillian was standing with her mother and two sisters. He contemplated approaching her, but he was not sure how to start the conversation. He wanted to put an end to their courtship, which was not officially started, but he knew she was aware of his intentions towards her. Lady Lillian was a clever girl. She knew he had meant to court her from the start of the season.
A glass of champagne was offered to him. There was only one person who would approach him in a crowded place.
His best friend, Lord Robert Tyne.
He took the glass from his hand with gratitude and continued his silent assessment of the room.
“Lady Lillian is a fine lady,” Robert said.
William sighed, knowing full well what Robert was getting at. Robert knew he loved Rose and could never have her, so he was pushing him into the arms of Lady Lillian.
“I can never love her,” William said.
William appreciated what Robert was doing for him, but the desire to approach another woman had left him. He would rather live alone than be with someone he did not love.
“Give her a chance,” Robert said. “She might bring peace to your restless heart.”
William chuckled humorlessly. Robert did not realize what he was asking of him. Perhaps, Robert was blind to the dying fire in his eyes.
“I fear I will forever remain restless, my friend,” William said.
“At least, ask her for the dance,” Robert responded. “You are being cruel, William. Everyone is partnering up and she is looking your way.”
He glanced her way and found her stealing glances in his direction. He felt slightly guilty for leading her on. He should have told her in clear terms that he was not interested in her and she should stop pining for him, but he was always busy. There was always one thing or the other waiting for him at the end of the day. He never found the time to call upon her and have a decent conversation.
William sighed. “One dance is all I can offer her.”
Robert nodded his head in understanding. “One chance is all I ask.”
William approached Lady Lillian. She perked up when she found him before her. Her enthusiasm increased his guilt.
Bowing slightly at his waist, he offered her his hand.
“Would you give me the honor of participating in the next dance with me, my lady?”
She placed her gloved hand in his. He noticed her respectable blue ball gown and the innocence radiating from her blushing cheeks. She was a lady of noble birth who would be a good wife to any man… but not him.
His heart pined for the allusive courtesan, Rose.
“The honor would be mine, my lord,” she said.
Leading her to the middle of the ballroom, he took his position by the other gentlemen standing before their partners.
The music started. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he took a deep breath and followed the steps he had learned since childhood.
Clap hands with your partner.
Stomp your feet on the floor in synchrony with the music.
Take the hand of your partner and twirl her around.
Change partner.
Repeat the steps.
Once the dance was done and he was escorting her back, he changed his mind all of a sudden and veered her towards the table laden with food.
“What do you think about love and money, my lady?” he asked.
She stared at him, puzzled and bewildered. He had asked the same question from Rose and now he wanted to see what Lady Lillian thoughts were on the same topic.
Robert had asked him to give her a chance, so he was giving her one.
“I beg your pardon, my lord?” she asked.
Offering her a glass of lemonade, he looked at her closely and noticed the way she was clutching onto the skirts of her gown. She was uncomfortable with his choice of conversation.
“Your views on love and money,” he said, rephrasing his question. “Which do you think is important?”
Her hands were trembling as she took a sip of her drink.
“I don’t know what to say, my lord,” she said.
He was irritated. Her simpering behavior was grating on his nerves. His anger was partly directed at Robert who was making him go through this tiring experience. How can anyone ask him to consider this girl for his wife when she could not engage him in an interesting conversation?
“I asked you a simple question, my lady,” he said, clenching his teeth. “It’s not hard to pick between two choices.”
“What will you prefer, my lord?” she asked meekly.
“I asked your opinion, my lady,” he stated.
His tone was sharper than he had intended. She looked up at him with fearful eyes.
“Love,” she responded.
The uncertainty in her voice made him further irritated. He picked a drink for himself and tried his best to cool down his anger.
“If you had to live in poverty and go to bed on an empty stomach, would you still think the same, my lady?” he asked.
Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I guess money is more important than love, my lord.”
He was disappointed. Lady Lillian could not justify her own opinion.
He was about to respond, but then a familiar scent made him forget everything else. The scent of roses. The scent of his beloved.
“May I answer that question, my lord?”
He turned towards her and he whispered her name under his breath.
“Rose.”
Her name was like a prayer on his lips. In a bold green dress, she eclipsed the beauty of everyone else. Her untamed hair was smoothed into a stylish bun with ringlets adorning it. Her cheeks were rosy as usual. Her ruby lips were curled into the most seductive grin he had ever witnessed.
“Love is superior over money,” she said. “Love is the only thing that cannot be bought with anything.”
He raised a brow and smiled back at her.
“You changed your opinion,” he said.
A look he had never witnessed before came over her features. A look of longing and desperation. A look of a lover who was forced to witness her beloved in someone else’s arms.
“I had to, my lord,” she said. “My opinion was biased. I had never experienced love before.”
His heart screamed in silent protest. It was unfair that she was confessing to loving him, yet he had to hide his true feelings from her.
He was staring into her eyes, unaware of the rest of the world. He was cursing himself for declining her request when she asked him to take her as his mistress. He was such a fool.
“As always, you render me mute,” he said.
Rose looked to his side and he fought the urge to turn her head towards him. He wanted her eyes looking at him and no one else.
“An introduction would be nice, my lord,” Rose said.
He was puzzled for a split second. Then he recalled who had accompanied him to the food table and his expression changed.
He turned towards the girl everyone was asking him to consider for his future wife, but how can he think of anyone else when his heart yearned for Rose?
“Lady Lillian, this is a good friend of mine, Lady Rose.”
She would always be a lady to him. The world might consider her undeserving of such status, but he did not care for anyone else. He was following what his heart was telling him. It was the only voice that mattered to him.
“So this is the girl you once spoke of?” Rose asked. She swallowed once and then continued, “She is lovely.”
Rose was looking at Lady Lillian with an assessing gaze. He prided himself when he saw envy and jealousy in her eyes.
Lady Lillian smiled at Rose and she returned back her smile almost immediately. He had known her for a long time, so he knew when she was faking emotion and when her feelings were genuine.
Rose was not at all pleased to meet the girl he was introducing her to.
“Would you like some refreshments, my lady?” he asked.
Her gaze turned from Lady Lillian to him and though the smile still remained on her face, her eyes glinted in genuine amusement.
“I was hoping for a dance, my lord,” she said.
He contemplated doing the right thing by turning down her request and opting to spend time with Lady Lillian. Rose could never become his. It would be a foolish decision to share the final waltz with Rose.
But, it was Rose. How can he say no to her? Even if her offer of dance was borne of pure envy towards Lady Lillian, he was helpless against her demands.
“I am honored by your offer, my lady,” he said.
He offered her his hand, in the same manner, he had offered Lady Lillian and guided her to the center of the ballroom. It was the same gesture, yet he felt joy and exultation the likes of which was absent a moment ago.
He kept his expressions stoic, hiding his true emotions from her. She would never know he loved the way her gloved hands felt. She would forever remain in the dark to his drumming heart when she set her gaze upon his face. He swallowed the confession of love from the tip of the tongue as he danced with the prettiest girl in the whole world.
“Can I make a request, my lord?” she said softly.
Her violet eyes filled with emotions he knew too well, and it almost brought him down to his knees. Her love for him was blatant in her eyes.
He wished for the millionth time that he had not turned down her request that night. Things would have been so much different now. He would not have to hide his feelings from her.
“What can I do for you, my lady?” he stated.
Her lips curled into a radiant smile and he forgot to breathe. This girl held so much power over him, yet she remained ignorant of it.
“My request is the same as before, my lord,” she said suggestively, biting her lower lip.
She was asking for another kiss and though he was thinking of taking her lips in a brutal kiss, he had to turn down her request. He could not in his good senses take what belonged to another man.
“Don’t do this,” he said, groaning silently in protest. “It’s wrong.”
She moved closer to him until their thighs touched. His breath became erratic and raspy.
“My thirst can only be quenched with your lips, my lord,” she said sensually.
His hardening member twitched in response and he moved an inch away from her before she could notice his desire for her. When that did not work either, he pushed at her chest until they were once again at a respectable distance from each other.
“I implore you to reconsider what you are asking of me,” he said.
With a stunned expression, she looked to her side and then back at him.
“Forgive me, my lord,” she said. “I overstepped my bounds.”
She turned on her heels and ran out of the ballroom with one hand covering her mouth.
He looked to the side and found Lady Lillian staring at him with a puzzled expression.
Rose had assumed his reluctance was due to the lady. He could have run after her to clear the misunderstanding, but he remained standing at his spot because the misunderstanding worked in his favor.
Chapter 17
Tears flowing down her face, Rose ran from the ballroom in utter humiliation. She went straight to the carriage of Lord Doris and asked the driver to take her home.
The driver and footman exchanged glances with one another. She snapped at them in anger and the servants rushed to do her bidding.
She went straight to her room and threw herself face first on the soft mattress of her bed. She had thrown herself at Lord Clifford and he had rejected her. She meant nothing to him. It was foolish of her to assume he felt anything for her after sharing that kiss.
