She slowly glanced at the faces in the room, heart pounding and mouth dry, and then she saw him—the man she would never forget. The man who had saved her in many ways—the man she had fallen in love with when it was scandalous to do so—Dr. Orlando Valentine.
“It appears Lavinia is no longer dissatisfied with life,” Elizabeth murmured with a chuckle.
Blythe heard Elizabeth but found it impossible to respond.
“What is wrong?” Elizabeth asked after a moment. “You have grown very pale. Are you ill?”
If she offered that as an excuse, would she be able to leave?
But did she really wish to?
And, in that moment, Orlando turned. Their eyes locked. Time stopped as they stared at the other across the drawing room.
He had not forgotten her and she would never forget him.
Orlando was certain that his heart had stopped for a moment. But, as a physician, he knew that it was impossible or he would be dead. Yet, the sensation of cessation and loss of breath, almost suspended, had not been his imagination when he looked in Blythe’s pale blue eyes, a contrast to her nearly midnight hair. And just as quickly, his heart resumed, thumping against his chest as his pulse grew elevated.
He had not known that Blythe was in London and assumed she remained in the country with her family. Of course, he had never asked because that would invite questions. Instead, he assumed that if she was in Town, he would have heard or they might have crossed paths. And, since he had no good excuse to call on her, he had not traveled to her father’s home in Devon.
Besides, he also didn’t want to face her and be rejected a second time. At least, that is how he took her disappearance. She’d not even left a note of explanation or goodbye, simply packed her belongings and left. At least, according to Mrs. Desmit. He could only assume that it was because she realized that being the daughter of a duke she could not associate with a man who had bastard siblings and a mother who had become a prostitute.
That was what they had believed then, and his siblings were bastards even if they did share the same father.
Given that he also learned that her husband had been killed, Blythe had been free to return to the Society she had hidden from without anyone ever knowing that her husband had sold her. Orlando was no longer needed so she left.
The pain had been deep, and it took time before he realized that no matter how much he had wanted it to be so, what they shared had not been real, simply a necessity.
Even if she had not known about his family, Orlando was still common, a doctor. She was the widow of a lieutenant, who happened to be the third son of a viscount. But more importantly, she was the daughter of a duke, far above his reach and likely ran in circles of those who would barely acknowledge him if their paths were to cross.
Yet, that hadn’t stopped him from falling in love with her when she likely only experienced friendship until he was no longer needed.
Oh, he wished that he could resent her. Hate her for breaking his heart, but it was not possible because he was still in love with the Blythe he had come to know, even if that was not who she really was.
Chapter Fifteen
Blythe forced herself to look away from Orlando and sought out the exits from the drawing room. If she left abruptly, would anyone even notice? Yet, if she did, would he seek her out?
No, he would not do that. He hadn’t sought her before so why would he now?
Besides, as far as anyone else in the room knew, the two of them had never met. Well, other than Isabella.
“Please excuse me,” Blythe whispered to Elizabeth.
“Is all well?” she asked in concern.
“There is no cause for concern,” she insisted. “I will only be a moment.”
Elizabeth nodded but worry lingered in her eyes. Maybe she would confide in her later, but not now. She needed to gather her thoughts and calm her nerves so that when she returned to the drawing room, she was prepared to greet anyone who might approach, even if it was Orlando.
Blythe asked for directions to the retiring room and then calmly walked up the stairs because rushing to get away from everyone would have only drawn attention that she did not want.
Thankfully, there was nobody else within the retiring room and with a hand against her heart, Blythe willed it to slow and not pound so fiercely as she settled onto the settee as the past rushed back to her.
Blythe took a deep shuddering breath. That was nearly three years ago. Much had changed. She had changed.
Further, she had panicked for no reason because neither Orlando nor Isabella would speak of her embarrassment.
She also could not hide again. She had done that for two years and gained nothing for being a recluse. Though, she had believed herself content. That was until she’d been forced from her brother’s home to attend functions. Only then had she realized how much she had missed and Blythe would not let a chance meeting from her past force her back into seclusion.
