West sighed and rubbed at his eyebrow in irritation. “I’m waiting to hear about an investment. A ship that John and I put money into is set to return to port with goods any day now. I expect word of its docking soon, that will provide us with the initial funds to begin making changes.” He was anxious that there was still no word on theTrade Wind.
“Well, thank you again. I’ll sleep on it and give you an answer soon.” With that, Ethan let out a large yawn. “It’s been a long day. I suppose that’s my sign to head up to bed. Good night, cousin. And think on what I said as well.”
That was the last thing West needed to think about. A real relationship with Priscilla simply couldn’t be, neither of them truly wanted it, no matter how drawn to her he may feel.
Utterly exhausted himself after a turbulent day, he picked up a candle and followed Ethan’s example, heading upstairs to bed. Once he reached his room, he shrugged out of his jacket, kicked off his shoes, and unbuttoned his waistcoat. West enjoyed the feeling of being unbound from propriety. Each piece of clothing he shed was like removing a layer of anxiety and responsibility, allowing him to breathe easier.
Laying the discarded items carefully over the back of a chair so as not to upset Roberts when he found them in the morning, he was just about to head to his dressing room for his banyan when a knock sounded at the door. Being nearly two o’clock inthe morning, he rushed to the door, concerned something was wrong.
Priscilla standing on the other side was the last thing he’d expected.
CHAPTER 24
It had been an eventful evening for Priscilla since her outburst in the parlor. She was horrified by the way she’d unleashed on Lizzie, reverting back to her mean-spirited days as a debutant. Fleeing the others, she’d run upstairs to her room and shut herself in, not wanting to face what a monster she’d just become.
Lizzie hadn’t deserved that. All she’d done was make an ill-timed jest. While not the most tactful comment, Priscilla knew she had not meant it unkindly. It had simply come at a moment when she was a frayed rope, hanging together by only a single thread. The similarity to what West eluded to that very morning was what made the final thread snap.
Was that how others saw her? Was she treated usuriously because she had been so prickly and cutting in the past? Seen about with another man so soon after emerging from mourning, was she viewed as loose? It’s true that she’d always found it easy to tease men good-naturedly, but she really wasn’t trying to lead them on, it was all in good-natured fun.
But looking back on the past several weeks, Priscilla wondered if that was what caused the need for a false relationship with West in the first place.
Had she flirted with the men pursuing her at the Trenton ball? No, she had most decidedly not led Lord Warrenton on when sat beside him at Elise’s dinner. She could have outright declined his dance invitation rather than demurring, but that had been out of a desire to remain as polite as possible. She had most decidedly not flirted or encouraged his attention. The same went for Lord Percy, who pursued her without any prompting. No, these men had sought her out for her wealth, and she had not been overly friendly with them, simply polite.
She was more engaging with the gentlemen in West’s family these past few days because they were genuinely kind men. She felt at ease around them and like she could be her effervescent self.
Well, for the most part. Cumberland had his own motives, and perhaps she should have behaved colder toward him. But she desired West’s attention and knew entertaining his cousin would do so. It seems the plan may have worked too well.
Priscilla felt comfortable with the Beaumonts. They asked her questions, believing she had original thoughts, something many men in the upper class did not seem to think was possible of women. They seemed to respect her opinion and treated her like one of their own, which made her relaxed. If she had taken too much of the spotlight in the days since arriving at Hampton House, she was sorry for it.
But oh, Priscilla was ashamed for reverting back to who she used to be in that moment and taking it out on poor Lizzie. She didn’t know why Lizzie remained unmarried and if it was by her own choice. Unsure if she had hurt the other woman’s feelings or merely shocked her with the level of her own vitriol, Priscilla knew she needed to apologize to Lizzie. Though the hour was late, she didn’t want to wait.
She made her way down the hall, knocking softly on Lizzie’s door, and relieved when she answered. Stepping back silently, Lizzie allowed Priscilla into the room.
“I came to apologize,” Priscilla said as Lizzie shut the door behind them. “I never should have said what I did to you, and certainly not in that manner. It’s no excuse, but I’ve had quite an emotional day, and even though you didn’t know it, your comment hit a little too closely. I lashed out at you when really I was frustrated with my own circumstances. I’m so sorry for upsetting you.”
She spoke in a rush, wanting to be able to say her piece before Lizzie could interject. Now finished, she stayed silent and waited for what Lizzie had to say.
Lizzie gave a large sigh and uncrossed her arms which she had been using like a shield. “I’m sorry too. I had too much champagne and spoke without thinking. The truth is that I was envious of how easily you seem to be able to converse with others and gain their good favor. I did not mean to imply that you were entertaining all the men or were a flirt. I just want to be a bit more of one myself.”
“I also should say that I don’t believe women need to marry, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with the fact that you have not done so. There are times I wish I had remained unmarried myself,” Priscilla added.
Lizzie let out a bitter laugh. “You didn’t say anything that was untrue—I am still single. But not by choice, believe me. I just can’t seem to keep the attention of the one man I want more than anything.”
She looked sad and a bit dejected, and Priscilla’s heart went out to her. Reaching out, she took Lizzie’s hand. “I’m sorry. Love is often unfair, and I hate to see you suffering. Are we mended then?”
“Yes,” Lizzie said with a sniff and a dash of her finger under her eye. “We are mended.” She squeezed Priscilla’s hand and gave her a smile.
“I leave you then, it’s late. I just didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to fix things between us.”
Priscilla returned to her room and prepared for bed, but found herself unable to sleep, restless with thoughts about what West must be thinking of her. Did he once again see her as the bratty, entitled girl she used to be? Was he lamenting ever getting involved, her tangled feelings for him now all too apparent? Was he cursing his mother for trying to play matchmaker and bringing her here when he wanted to get away and focus on business matters?
Tossing and turning, unable to quiet her mind, she finally gave up on trying to sleep around two in the morning. Climbing out of bed, she wrapped her dressing gown around her and headed out to find a book in the library that might help ease her into sleep. Venturing down the hall, she saw light emanating from beneath West’s door. Desperate to rid herself of the anxieties racing through her mind, she decided talking with the man she was losing her heart to would be the best solution and impulsively knocked.
When West opened the door to Priscilla, he appeared shocked to see her standing in front of him with nothing but her night clothes and the apology on her lips.
Much like Lizzie had done, he simply stepped aside and allowed her to enter before firmly closing the door behind her.
“I came to apologize,” she said without preamble, walking past him.
