Heat crept over her cheeks, but she forced her smile to remain on her lips even though it felt more like she was grimacing. “Of course, my dear. Now, then. We should get some rest. The hour is late.”
Pamela’s thoughts wandered where they shouldn’t again, back to Theo, as she and Lady Virtue climbed the spiral staircase. Would she see him again tonight? Had he been awaiting her return home this evening? Was she the reason he had been in the entrance hall? Had he been lingering in the hope that he would see her?
Just as quickly as the questions bubbled up within her, Pamela dismissed them. How foolish she was, harboring all these forbidden thoughts. She had already risked far too much with him. No, she would far better serve herself by keeping her mind where it belonged—on the task of seeing Lady Virtue married to a respectable gentleman.
“What did you think of Lord Saltersford?” she asked Lady Virtue as they climbed the stairs. “It seemed the two of you were engaged in an engrossing conversation at dinner.”
“He wanted me to pass the peas,” Lady Virtue said succinctly.
Well. It would seem Pamela had been rather distracted at dinner as well. She could have sworn Lady Virtue and the earl had been enjoying each other’s company. Hopefully her brother’s ward hadn’t taken note.
“Was that all he said, my dear?”
Lady Virtue sent her a tight smile. “Quite.”
They rounded a curve and proceeded to the next floor. “Perhaps it was Lord Silvertry I was thinking of, then. You were seated next to each other for the musical entertainments, were you not?”
“There was a fellow seated to my left who I do believe fell asleep during Lady Anne’s turn at the pianoforte,” Lady Virtue said with a sniff. “I heard him snoring. Was Silvertry his name? I confess, I was introduced to so many gentlemen this evening that I cannot recall them all.”
The younger woman wasn’t making Pamela’s efforts to see her married any easier. Indeed, she had made it abundantly clear that she had no wish to marry at all. But Ridgely had other plans for her, and Pamela liked to think Lady Virtue would find happiness in a marriage with a loving husband. As it was, the girl was an orphan, with no home or family to speak of.
“Many excellent prospects for marriage,” Pamela forced herself to remind Lady Virtue. “Are there any beaus who have captured your attention?”
“None,” Lady Virtue denied with a beleaguered sigh. “I do so wish you and Ridgely would cease all attempts at forcing me into marriage. It isn’t a husband I want. All I wish for is to return to my home.”
Poor, dear girl. Lady Virtue was having difficulty accepting that her father’s unentailed estate, Greycote Abbey, was being sold. Pamela understood all too well the pains and changes that came with death.
“Give yourself time,” Pamela advised her, thinking of how happy she’d been in her own marriage with Bertie. Yes, it was best to think of that. To remember the lasting love she had found with her husband instead of the fast-and-furious lust she felt with Theo.
“I fear no amount of time shall change my mind on the matter,” Lady Virtue declared. “The sooner His Grace realizes it, the better off we all shall be.”
They reached the top of the stairs and carried on down the hall, Pamela seeing her brother’s ward to her chamber door. Impulsively, she reached out and gave the younger woman’s gloved hands an affectionate squeeze. “We only want what is best for you, my dear. Both His Grace and myself.”
She thought of her brother’s scandalous behavior toward Lady Virtue in the library then and frowned. Well, perhaps Ridgely wanted what was best for himself, but she had no doubt that her anger at what she’d witnessed had cured him of that particular selfishness. He knew as well as Pamela did that he didn’t want to take a wife. But if he dallied with Lady Virtue again, then a wife he would have.
“That is the trouble,” Lady Virtue said with a sad smile of her own. “Everyone always thinks they know what is best for me, that I don’t know what is best for myself. All my choices have been taken away from me.”
A pang grew in Pamela’s heart at those words, for she well understood them. Felt them to her core. Her own choices had been taken from her when she had been a debutante faced with the pressure to marry. She’d been fortunate indeed to find love with Bertie. But then after his death, her choices and her life had yet again ceased to be her own.
“All we want is for you to find your happiness,” she told Lady Virtue through a throat gone thick with emotion. “Now do get some rest, my dear. Tomorrow we’ve the Marquess and Marchioness of Searle’s ball to attend.”
“Another ball?” Lady Virtue’s nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Yes, another ball,” she said, pretending as if she were overjoyed by the notion, when in truth, she had no desire to attend either.
She released Lady Virtue’s hands, feeling suddenly older than her years. It hadn’t occurred to her until this moment that she had thrown herself into the social whirl after her period of mourning was over out of a sense of obligation as much as the need for distraction. She was the dutiful daughter, the good wife, and now the proper widow, always doing what she had been told she must do. Living for everyone else and their expectations, never for herself.
Good heavens, little wonder Lady Virtue was rebelling against the life in which she now found herself. Pamela was shocked to discover how much they had in common.
“Is something amiss?” Lady Virtue’s concerned voice interrupted Pamela’s thoughts.
She forced another smile, wondering how much her countenance had betrayed her. “Of course not. I’m merely weary as well. Good evening, my dear.”
After making certain Lady Virtue was safely ensconced in her chamber, Pamela hesitated in the hall, tempted to seek out Theo before retiring for the night and yet knowing she should not. Her lady’s maid would be awaiting her to assist. And going to Theo would only lead to more dreadful decisions, she was sure of it.
Still, the part of her that longed to live for herself again remained persistent, tugging at her. But she was stronger. Pamela forced her feet to carry her to her chamber. Forced herself to perform the necessary evening ritual. Her lady’s maid took away her gown and petticoats and helped Pamela with her hair. Her jewelry was returned to its case, her gloves and stockings taken for laundering.
But when she was alone again, having dismissed her lady’s maid for the night, she found herself pacing the sumptuous carpets instead of seeking her bed and the rest she knew she should likely obtain. Particularly after her sins the night before had kept her awake so very long.
