Roseford’s nostrils flared. “How dare you speak to my guest that way? Get out of my house.”
“Your Grace,” Aurora whispered. “I don’t want to cause any trouble—”
“You didn’t, my dear. He did.”
“Want her for your own, do you?” Sweeting said with a nervous chuckle.
Roseford took a long step forward. “Watch yourself.”
Now Sweeting shifted, his gaze darting toward the doors the led into the ballroom again. “You cannot take her side. Youneedme or you wouldn’t have invited me here. Your brother’s ambitions, his hopes of being gifted a title he hasn’t earned through blood right…I can raise my voice against all that.”
Roseford’s gaze narrowed. “Threaten my brother again, Sweeting. See how that ends for you.”
Sweeting shook his head. “You know I could go back inside and—”
Roseford cut him off by taking a long step forward. He caught Sweeting by the ear like he was a recalcitrant youth rather than a viscount well past his majority. He cast Aurora a quick glance. “Please return to the party and enjoy yourself, my lady. I’m just going to take care of this refuse and I’ll be back in soon.”
She blinked at the sting of humiliated tears as Roseford dragged the viscount away from her, toward another entrance back into the house that would not require a scene in the ballroom. She pivoted away, trying not to hear Sweeting’s repeated slurs against her as he was hauled away.
She reentered the ballroom, hands shaking and heart throbbing. All around her, the voices were too loud, the smiles too wide, the gazes too focused. She might cry and she didn’t want the world to see that and judge her. Just like Roddenbury had judged her at the brothel, like Sweeting had judged her tonight. Like Nicholas clearly judged her even if he hadn’t the dangerous, cruel bent the other two men shared.
If anything, the encounter had proven to her one important fact: she wouldneverrecover from the rumors that had been spread about her. No matter how much friendship the duchesses offered her, no matter how she proved herself a lady in the eyes of those who apparently mattered, in the end, she was spoiled, ruined, and there was no going back.
She staggered through the room, trying to maintain a false smile with every step. She would go to the library. That was where she’d promised to meet Nicholas shortly. If she got there early, she could try to calm herself once again. Try to find a way to pretend that none of this mattered. That she was not affected by the lies and the past and the pain she’d endured in the years since she last touched her lips to his.
She had to. Because she didn’t know that he would allow her anything else.
Nicholas trailed behind Aurora as she stumbled through the hallways toward the library. He’d watched her come in from the terrace, her smile false and her steps ragged. He’d watched her pretend to be fine as she escaped the room, even going so far as to smile and say good evening to those who acknowledged her. To anyone who didn’t know her, she might have looked well.
Butheknew her, even after all these years and all that had kept them apart. She still worried her lip the same way when she was afraid. She still stooped her shoulders slightly when she was carrying the weight of the world. He knew her pain and the sudden dread that haunted every step she took.
He shouldn’t have followed her from the room. They’d intended to leave separately, not be too obvious to the eyes of his family and anyone else keeping track. But how could he not follow her when she looked so forlorn? He couldn’t help himself. Or at least hehadn’t.
Still, she hadn’t noticed him following in her distraction. She turned the corner into the library, and he hesitated. After their agreement to meet here, he’d pondered all the questions he’d wanted to ask her. All the things he’d wanted to say. But now all he could think about was the broken expression on her face and he wanted so desperately to comfort her.
Which meant he should walk away. He was compromised, after all. Weak to whatever was happening between them, whatever remained of what they’d been to each other all those years ago. The very best thing he could do was retreat, not put himself in her path.
But he couldn’t do that, either. Walking away now was impossible, so he drew in a ragged breath and entered the library behind her. She was standing at the fireplace, one hand gripping the mantel above her, the other pressed to her forehead. She was drawing in breath, short, rapid gasps, trying not to cry, and his heart broke to see her like this.
“Aurora,” he whispered as he shut the door behind them.
She turned her attention toward him. She refused to meet his stare and wiped at the tears that sparkled in the corners of those warm, brown eyes.
“I—you weren’t meant to come for a few more minutes,” she said. “I was trying to gather myself so you wouldn’t have to see. I don’t want your pity, or for you to think I’m trying to manipulate you.”
He shook his head. Sothatwas what he’d created between them since her arrival here. Because of his outburst on the drive, because of their agreement to pretend they shared no past, because he pulled away from her whenever they edged too close. All those things made her feel she had to hide herself, hide her feelings, hide from him.
Perhaps he should have let that be. Perhaps it was for the best. But he couldn’t help himself, not anymore. His hands shook as he reached behind himself and carefully locked the door. Her eyes went wide at that inappropriate act. Even wider as she tracked him when he moved toward her, slow step by slow step.
“Aurora,” he whispered, his voice rough with the desire he felt and the emotions he couldn’t control. “There aremanythings I feel when I look at you, but none of them are pity. And there are many things I want and need to say, but none of them is an accusation. I don’t know what happened out on the terrace that made you so upset, but the only reason I followed you early was because I felt an uncontrollable desire to…to comfort you. Even if it isn’t my place, even if it makes me a fool.”
She was staring at him, eyes wide and filling with renewed tears. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard, and then she said, “The only person in the world that I would want comfort from is you, even though it’s equally wrong.”
He had almost reached her, and now he took the last step that separated them. He caught her hand, smoothing his thumb along the silky fabric of her gloves as he drew her even closer. A hair’s breadth apart, and then less as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to do this?” he whispered.
He didn’t allow her to answer. He dropped his mouth to hers, and nothing else mattered as he kissed her.
