Scowling, he made his way to the parlor. Of course she didn’t. Mrs. Lawson was a selfish shrew with no consideration for others.
He thrust the parlor door open, abusing the hinges. The door slammed against the wall with such violent force it seemed the room shook.
A startled gasp drew his attention to his unwelcome guest. She sat, bolt upright, in the simplest chair the room offered.Hischair.
“Madam,” James growled while doing his best not to lose himself in the ocean-blue depths of her gaze or ponder the perfect full lower lip of her mouth. “My butler asked you to leave three hours ago. In case you need reminding, that is the exit.” He pointed in the direction of the front door.
“Thank you, Mr. Dale, but I wished to speak with you.” The melodious softness with which she spoke was like an elixir to his senses.
James balled his hands into fists and stared her down. “Any person with an ounce of common sense would have taken a butler’s dismissal as a clear indication that I do not wish to speak with him. But since you clearly lack all semblance of courtesy and respect, allow me to be equally rude and to say that you, Madam, aren’t welcome here. Now get out.”
Those gorgeous eyes of hers narrowed. Brackets appeared at the corners of her mouth. She rose, not like some dainty debutante, but like an experienced, headstrong woman refusing to cower. Straightening herself, she raised her chin. “Not until you’ve heard me out.”
James might not like her. He might not even believe her worthy of his notice, but he was man enough to admit she deserved his respect, if only for her boldness.
He crossed his arms. “Say your piece then, if you must, and leave.”
She swallowed, betraying some small amount of apprehension. The edge of James’s mouth twitched. So, she was not as composed as she let on. Perhaps she was even nervous?
He permitted himself to study her more closely. Unlike the first time he’d met her, beneath the glow of chandeliers, she no longer sparkled. Gone was the merriment from her eyes, which were now cradled by deep blotches of grey. No humor existed about her mouth, which remained a slash of severity on her face.
Only two years had passed since he’d been this close to her, and while she was still a striking woman, James was shocked by how wrecked she looked. It hadn’t occurred to him when he’d seen her in court. She’d been at one end of the room, he at the other. All he’d noted was the resolve in her expression. It had been hard and unyielding. But that too was gone now, replaced by a sort of exhausted determination, like that of an injured animal refusing to go down without a fight.
“My daughter wishes to marry your son,” Mrs. Lawson said with the stiffness one might ascribe to an over-starched governess. “Your son has proposed and she has accepted. The only hindrance to their future happiness is you.”
James disagreed, but refrained from saying so. “You hope to change my mind?”
“Cynthia has endured a great deal of late, so I’d like to try and give her what she wants.”
“Perhaps you should have thought of that before—” He stopped himself and muttered a curse. It would not do for him to be reduced to the sort of man who insulted women, no matter who they were or what they’d done. He was better than that, damn it. But God help him if Mrs. Lawson did not drive him to the brink of insanity with her mixture of enticing beauty and disgraceful conduct. She was like a poisoned slice of delectable cake he longed to devour, even though he knew a single bite would kill him.
He took a deep breath and tightened the reins on his anger. “Forgive me, Mrs. Lawson, but Michael fancies himself in love and as such, he will be inclined to act rashly. It is my duty as his father to protect him from doing something he’ll later regret.”
“Like marrying the daughter of a woman who openly cuckolded her husband?” Her voice increased in strength with every word she spoke. Eyes blazing, she continued to tear herself down with unforgiving force. “A harlot whose lovers outnumber the stars in the sky? A creature so vile she ought to be spat upon in the street?”
The harsh self-deprecation sliced him to the bone. He did not like the manner in which she described herself. But it was the truth, wasn’t it? Still, that last part burned the tips of his ears. “Surely that has not happened?”
“I am prepared to suffer the repercussions of my actions,” she said, “but my daughter is innocent of any wrongdoing. She does not deserve to be punished for my misdeeds.”
James stared at her. She’d not answered his question directly, but she’d said enough to indicate that she had indeed become the target of disturbing attacks. Disgust aimed at those who would treat a woman – any woman – thus, curdled his stomach. And yet, he was not in any position to aid her. “I’m sorry for your daughter, but her connection to you cannot be dismissed, and I fear my son’s career will be hampered if he’s related to you through marriage.”
She held his gaze for a long drawn out moment before releasing him from the spell those blue eyes placed on him. Pain etched lines upon her brow, revealing her anguish as she spun to face the thick velvet curtains obscuring the windows. “I wonder what it must be like for men like you, so far above reproach they cannot sympathize with those who stumble.”
“You dare to mock me in my own home?”
Her shoulders slumped and her head fell slightly forward, offering him a view of pale skin that stretched between the edge of her spencer and her bonnet. James’s fingertips burned with the yearning to reach out and touch it. His chest ached with the strength it required for him to remain where he was.
“No, I am merely reminding myself of how foolish I was to come here and plead my daughter’s case to a man whose profession demands him to uphold the law with unfailing precision.” She turned toward him once more. Resignation had swept all animation from her face, leaving being a dull facade devoid of life. “Everything is black and white to you – good or bad with no shades of grey in between. You have seen my husband accuse me in public. You watched me be condemned in three consecutive trials. So your opinion of me is now set in stone. You’ve dismissed the personal bias a lesser man might have allowed on the basis of his encounter with me. Or is it that encounter which makes you hate me more?”
“I cannot deny the disappointment I experienced when your true nature came to light.”
A sad smile crept over her lips. “Perhaps I should have begun this meeting by offering my apologies. Please allow me to do so now, Mr. Dale. I ought to have known my husband would jump to conclusions when he saw the two of us having a closetête-à-tête. I’m sorry for the insult you suffered because of it, and while I doubt this will help, I thought you should know that I genuinely enjoyed our conversation that evening.”
“As did I, Mrs. Lawson.”
She stared at him a moment longer and as she did, her eyes filled with a sharp emotion he couldn’t quite place. It was gone again in an instant, secured behind the battlements she’d put in place with strategic efficiency. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Dale. I’m sorry to have ruined your evening.”
He almost laughed. It wasn’t just one evening she’d trampled upon. It was every second of every waking hour since the moment he’d met her. And several nights in between. He clenched his jaw and managed a nod. She curtseyed, and then she was gone, leaving him alone in a room he despised.
