The ringing of crystal overlapped the barons last statement, cutting off the opportunity for Priscilla to dissuade him, as all eyes turned to the host of the evening, waiting on his words for the couple of honor.
CHAPTER 6
As the first guests began to depart Reid’s town house, West breathed a sigh of relief. He enjoyed being seated next to the charming new viscountess at dinner, but the amount of conversing he had to do with the rather unpleasant Baron Warrenton in an attempt to court his vote had left him depleted of energy.
“Thank you for your help,” Reid said, clapping a hand down on his shoulder as West audibly exhaled.
“I don’t know how you do it,” West said. “Having to force charm and hide irritation completely exhausts me, yet you look no worse for the wear.”
“It’s only because I’ve had a lot of practice. Trust me, I don’t enjoy it any more than you do. Come, let’s have a drink.”
While a drink sounded positively wonderful, he didn’t want to outlast his welcome. “Oh, no. It’s getting late, I really should return home. I don’t want to be a bother.”
Reid shot him a look of exasperation. “You’re hardly a bother. Besides, this part of the evening will be far more enjoyable—only the people I actually like will still be around for a final dissection of the evening.”
West consented with a chuckle and followed Reid into the library, where a much smaller group of intimate friends had gathered. A tumbler of whiskey soon made its way into his hand, and he settled on a small settee in front of the fire for a moment of quiet after the long evening.
“You look contemplative. I would, too, if I had to kowtow to Warrenton for his support.”
West turned in surprise at the voice and saw Lady Priscilla behind him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to thank you for diverting the man’s attention away from myself for the rest of the evening.”
It took him a minute to gather his wits and respond, transfixed by how the firelight gave her skin a warm glow and brought out the gold and copper tones in her chestnut hair. Swallowing, he forced himself to answer.
“Yes, I saw you had to suffer through his conversation at dinner, my condolences.”
A wide smile brightened her face, and she gestured to the empty space beside him on the settee. “May I?”
“Of course.” West hastily stood and waited for her to settle before retaking a seat himself at the far corner of the settee. He suspected it might not prove prudent to allow himself to be too close to her magnetic presence. He had to remind himself that she was exactly the kind of woman he didnotwant.
After adjusting her seat with a sigh, Lady Priscilla turned and looked at him. “I know I’ve seen you around events in past seasons, but until last evening, I don’t think we’d ever conversed.”
“I was thinking the same thing yesterday before Reid introduced us,” West said. “I knew I’d seen you before, though I didn’tknowyou.”
“Yes, well, polite society is rather a small world to move among.” She gazed into the fire, not saying anything else, but it was a comfortable silence. West took a sip of his whiskey and tried not to stare at the half-moon shadows her lashes left on her cheeks in the dim light.
“I’m glad you did not know me then,” she spoke up suddenly. “I was not the kindest person, and I think it’s much better that we are making one another’s acquaintance now.”
He studied her and saw that she was quite serious, not putting on an act to gain his sympathy as he had seen other women do. He hated how some women falsely demurred, doubting their own capabilities so that men would rush to reassure them, allowing the debutants to blush prettily at the praise. But this was not such a move. West could see that she truly did not like the person she had been a few short years ago.
“Why do you believe you were unkind?” he asked recklessly, knowing it could be construed as a rude question, given how little they knew one another.
“Surely you’ve heard the story,” she answered, her lips twisting into a small frown. “I was the reason our lovely host was ruined and cast aside from polite society for a time.”
“I had heard that, yes,” he admitted. “But it looks like you are good friends now—what changed?”
“I did,” Lady Priscilla answered. “I chose to abide by my family’s expectations of me and found I did not like my life or who I was because of it. I married a man simply for the sake of status, and I was cruel to other women around me because I had been taught to see them as competition. The end result was hurting a woman who didn’t deserve it because I felt threatened by her. Meanwhile I became the caretaker for, and young widow of, a man I did not love.”
“Your parents expected a lot from you,” he said, seeing her clearly.
Priscilla turned toward West and assessed him. “Yes, and I think that’s something you understand.”
“I do,” he said. For just a moment, West sensed a connection hovering between them as he looked at her. Even though he rarely discussed his childhood with anyone, he found himself wanting to share everything with her, feeling she may understand in a way no one else could.
“Status and reputation were everything to my father. He did not want to hear or see us, lest we do something that could embarrass him.” He absently rubbed at his eyebrow while recalling how stifled he’d felt. “Because he couldn’t trust us to live up to his standards, he pushed us away.”
“Whereas my parents smothered me. Status was also everything, so I was constantly told what to do and how to act. I resented it and took it out on everyone else. I began to disregard everyone around me, believing myself to be better than them. It’s what I had heard over and over again.”
