‘I had hoped to ask you for another dance.’
‘Most unwise, I fear, sir. Two dances with the same partner on one night might have been remarked upon.’
His returning smile was full of humour and out here in the open air Willa felt her heartbeat race. It was more than disconcerting.
‘I was introduced to a close acquaintance of yours after you had left. A Mr George Fitzgibbon.’
She could not quite work out what he was saying, for there was hesitation in his words.
‘He thinks very highly of you.’
‘He is a good friend.’
‘He told me that he had asked for your hand in marriage.’
Shock hit her forcibly. ‘And did he relate to you my feelings on the matter?’
‘He intimated he was finding it hard to persuade you to answer in the affirmative.’
Willa could not believe that George would be so careless with his confidences.
‘Mr Fitzgibbon was foolish in allowing such a private matter to stray into a public sphere. I should never have made any such confession.’
‘Because you value your privacy?’
‘I do and I have heard it said that you feel much the same, my lord.’
‘Once upon a time I used to worry more about what was said of me but now…’ He stopped before going on. ‘Now I barely listen to any disapproval.’
‘Oh, you need not be concerned. In my experience money and a title talk the loudest of all things. No one would dare criticise you.’
‘Even behind my back?’
‘Even there, I think. People here do not irritate anyone perceived to have more power than they do.’
‘And do you follow such rules, Mrs St Claire?’
‘I do, my lord. On the social ladder I have entered upon the very bottom rung. A widow. Untitled. Opinionated. Old. Though moderately wealthy at least, which is one mark in my favour.’
He laughed again and the sound rang out around them, caught on the wind in a singular note.
‘How old exactly are you?’
‘I am almost thirty-one years old. The age for a woman of no return and well past my prime.’
He did not let her finish.
‘You are also, by all accounts, a woman who has turned down many a proposal of marriage?’
‘Being a wife never suited me but I have told you that before.’
‘At Elmsworth?’ His voice was soft.
She looked around. There was no one in front of them or behind. Perhaps it was the hour of the day or the strength of the wind because the park was generally busier. She decided to take a chance.
‘I often think of that night, my lord.’ She wanted him to know that to her this memory was precious and that she was not ashamed.
He was silent but once she had started she could not just leave it there.
