Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
By God, it had not been well done, and his fury still lingered like a brick wall between them.
“You ought to introduce your new wife to the Wescotts,” prompted August, as Townsend stood with his fists clenched.
Jane looked at him, knowing the tension in this meeting if not the true reason, and he realized for her sake he must not cause a scene. He forced a tepid smile and the words of introduction.
“Lord and Lady Wescott, I’m pleased to introduce my wife, Lady Townsend.”
Jane offered her hand and Wescott bowed over it, as if he didn’t already know her from jilting her sister. Jane was equally gracious, but her smile was not her usual, natural one. Good. She turned to Ophelia next, her smile more genuine. “I’m pleased to finally meet you.”
Because you weren’t at our wedding, because your blighted husband daren’t show his face there…
Townsend burned with anger and emotion. He knew people were watching this meeting, had been waiting for it. It had been his mistake to air the business about his vengeful—and mistaken—betrothal in the middle of White’s dining hall, and now the ton, hungry for gossip after their winters in the country, was untangling the story and having good private laughs about it.
Let them laugh, as long as Jane never heard the wretched story, that their marriage was born of bungled revenge. He tried to keep his face bland, his expression pleasant as he faced Wescott, and was careful not to stare at Ophelia. He dared not address her beyond the barest niceties, if only to spare her the embarrassment of recalling his passionate declarations of love. By God, he’d been so gone with obsession he’d tried to break up their betrothal. If he hadn’t been dragged away by burly footmen, he probably would have tried to abduct Ophelia. Such had been his madness. Now there was only awkwardness and pain.
“I trust you had a pleasant winter season at Somerton,” said Wescott, cautiously. “I never had the chance to congratulate you both on your nuptials.”
“Oh yes,” added Ophelia, her blue eyes bright. “We are so glad for your happiness.”
Jane smiled and thanked them. “It is wonderful being married.” She winked at Augustine and Marlow. “You two ought to try it.”
“In time, dear lady,” said Marlow, bowing. “But for a little while longer, I’ll let the debutantes of London believe they still have a chance.”
“A chance at what?” muttered August, with his usual impeccable timing. “Misery?”
“Someone will be happy to have me,” Marlow shot back.
“Of course. Someone…eventually…”
Wescott’s droll response had them all laughing again, everyone but Townsend. He only managed a tight smile. Curse it, why must everyone around them pretend not to watch, when they obviously were? He couldn’t bear their scrutiny, which was why he’d tried to avoid this meeting. He hated providing fodder for society’s vicious tongues.
“Say, Wescott, weren’t you just telling us you had some business to address privately with Townsend?” August said.
Marlow nodded at his friend. “He did just say that to us, didn’t he? We’ll be happy to take your wives for a jaunt about the park while you two discuss things.”
“Indeed, we’d be honored,” August agreed. “No trouble at all.”
Townsend didn’t know who irritated him more—August and Marlow with their clumsy meddling, or Ophelia and Jane, who so readily accepted the men’s invitation. Before he could protest, August had offered an arm to Jane, and Marlow to Ophelia.
He and Wescott watched the couples walk off, leaving them stranded with each other. Wescott adjusted his hat; he fidgeted with his gloves. Who would say the first words? Would they be antagonistic or dismissive? Heated or blasé?
“It’s been a long time,” Wescott began, which wasn’t saying much at all. “How were your travels in Europe?”
“Unsatisfying.” He saw Jane look back at them, worry in her expression. “Let’s walk as well. I fear we’ve gathered an audience, standing here.”
“If you like.”
“I do like.”
They set off in the opposite direction from the ladies. Townsend tried to keep his expression neutral, but imagined he failed at it. Wescott was better at hiding his feelings, or perhaps he hadn’t any in his cold, dead soul.
“I suppose there is no use in small talk,” Wescott said. “We must settle these differences between us, or Marlow and August will never let it rest.”
“Were you in on the plans for this ‘accidental’ meeting?”
“They did tell me you and Lady Townsend had a habit of walking in the park this time of day.” He sighed. “I’ve wished to meet with you in any case to express my sincere apologies for the way things happened with Ophelia. I wrote to you…”
“I burned your letters without reading them.”
“Townsend, for God’s sake. You’re the one who attacked me. I had a bloody shiner at my wedding.”
“You deserved worse.” He took a slow breath, keeping rein on his temper even as the old outrage flooded back. “You disrespected Ophelia. You took advantage of her.”