She snorted, which surprised him further, as the woman rarely did anything society may disapprove of. In fact, Miss Whitlow was the epitome of all a lady should be. Polished, poised, and aloof. It was fair to say Leo disliked her intently—well at least he had. Surprisingly right at that moment, he found he liked her a great deal more.
They passed a torch, and Leo was able to look at the woman on his arm. She was tall, the tip of her head would reach his nose. He’d never thought of her as beautiful, simply because they loathed each other. But she was, he noted, very beautiful. The thought shocked him. How had he not noticed that profile?
Her hair was flaxen, and in daylight hours sometimes appeared shot through with threads of silver. This he knew as she’d been seated before him at an outside concert once. The performance had been by the Bellingham sisters, whose father indulged them terribly. Leo’s eyes had started to wander with the first wrong note. They had landed on the back of Miss Whitlow’s head.
Her eyes were indigo blue, framed by dark feathered brows and lashes, and set in a pale, heart-shaped face. As her mouth was usually pursed when in his company, he was equally shocked to notice the lovely shape of her lips.
“You have no need of dampened skirts, for what it’s worth,” he said.
“Was that a compliment?”
“I suppose it was, but as it’s likely the only one I’ll ever offer you, I beg that you enjoy the moment.”
Miss Whitlow thought about that for a few steps.
“I’m sorry she’s here, my lord. Sorry that she broke your heart and you were too foolish to see her for what she was. But surely you knew this day would come when news reached us that her husband had passed.”
“You do that very well.”
“What?” She stopped and one elegant brow lifted.
“Sympathy wrapped up in an insult.”
She smiled, and he saw a flash of white teeth.
“It is a particular forte of mine.”
“I had prayed the encounter would not be until next season, and yet here she is, in London,” Leo said, surprising himself yet again by speaking of something so personal with this woman of all people.
“She has observed the correct mourning period, and is now no doubt lonely. She has a thirst for society, which as you know she has always loved. Harriet also has the depth of a thimble, and needs constant adoration, thus she has returned to find some. She is still beautiful and very likely feels it’s time to find another husband. I should imagine as you were nearly a perfect fit last time, you will do well now.”
“I am not a shoe, Miss Whitlow.”
She studied him. “No, but you still have tolerable looks, and all your teeth.”
“Please don’t overdo the praise, it may go to my head. There is also the small matter that I have no wish to marry her.”
“You once did. I’m sure she has not changed.”
Leo shuddered while grunting something unintelligible, then said, “I may have.”
“I’m not entirely sure how you’ve managed to avoid her for six years?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Leo conceded, “but I managed it.”
An uncomfortable silence settled between them.
“I must take this moment to apologize, Miss Whitlow. It is long overdue, but I will say it just the same. That night I behaved in such an ungentlemanly manner was the day after Harriet had left me for Hyndmarsh. It is no excuse, but I hope you can one day forgive me; my words were uncalled for.”
Leo had been drunk and heartbroken, and come across Beth in Lord Craven’s library while he tried to escape the pitying eyes of society. She’d tried to walk by him without saying a word, and he’d asked why she did not pity him like the others. She’d told him that his self-pity was surely enough, and he... well, he’d lost control, and called her a brittle, uptight, emotionless woman, and said it was little wonder she was unwed. It had not been one of his finest moments, and from that day to this, they had barely spoken. Coward that he was, he’d never made a move to apologize.
“I was rude and my words unjust, and to my shame I never once begged your forgiveness.”
She studied him for long seconds, and Leo saw her cousin then. Nick could reduce a person to silence with just such a look, and Elizabeth also had that knack. Leo suddenly felt exposed, as if she could see all those places inside him where vulnerabilities lurked.
“I forgave you for that many years ago, my lord. You were hurting, and pain makes us do things we normally would not.”
Why did he believe she spoke those words from experience? Who had hurt her, and why did that thought bother him so much?
“What I could not forgive was that you gave her power over you even when she was gone. You let her change the man you had always been.”
While he stood there reeling from her words, she walked away without a backward glance.
