thirty
Tristan had been right. The next morning as Effie was sipping her morning tea in the sunroom, no headache bothered her. But something else did—a combination of regret, a vague sense of guilt, and a good dose of longing.
Before last night, she’d never considered her feelings for Tristan. But he’d stirred a certain desire in her. A desire that didn’t want to leave her, thanks also to a sense of curiosity and tenderness. The good wine had nothing to do with her desire because she was well and sober after a surprisingly restful sleep.
The sunlight didn’t hurt her eyes as she’d feared. But her thoughts jumped around, as Kettle did when he was nervous.
Jane came right after she finished her quick breakfast. Her stomach wasn’t upset, but her appetite wasn’t great.
After Doyle served a fresh pot of tea for Jane, they were alone in the bright sunroom.
“How do you feel?” Jane searched her face, likely for signs of a lie or a disease.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”
Jane folded her hands on her lap, as if gathering her patience. “He behaved, didn’t he?”
“Tristan was nothing but a gentleman.” She couldn’t completely remove the disappointment from her voice.
“So you don’t have to see him again. It’s done.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again. They hadn’t discussed their next meeting. She would remember that, wouldn’t she? Was the deal done and dusted? He’d told her that when she was ready, he would bed her, but that was rather vague.
She needed to see him and clarify the details. “I need to get ready to leave.”
“To go where?” Jane looked shocked.
“A walk.” She waved in the direction of London. “Somewhere.”
Jane’s shoulders lowered with a long exhale. “You don’t fool me. Isn’t it too early to see him again?”
“Perhaps yes, but I need to understand a few things.”
“Effie, please, you must think about the rumours.”
A flare of annoyance hit her. “You really should stop worrying about rumours and gossip. You know, all your accusations against Tristan, all the rumours you heard about him are false. He doesn’t have a mistress and doesn’t visit a disorderly house. Also, he doesn’t mistreat his workers. Spreading lies is dangerous and unfair.”
Jane looked flustered. The colour of her cheeks matched her red velvet gown. “I’m trying to help you.”
“And I appreciate it, but I don’t think that constantly listening to rumours or worrying about what people think brings anything good. And one shouldn’t foment rumours that might prove to be wrong.”
“I’m careful about what people say. Is that a crime?”
“Yes, if you make your decisions only worrying about rumours and not about what you want.”
Jane scoffed. “I see you’re in a foul mood.” She rose. “Good luck with your endeavour. I don’t think you need me.” She headed for the door.
“Jane, please.”
Too late. Her friend left without a second glance.
A few things Jane had told her about Tristan were true; others weren’t. But that wasn’t the problem. She didn’t want to spend her life being careful not to start rumours about herself or worrying about what people would think.
Her deal with Tristan was dangerous, but rumours were the last of her problems. Her heart worried her more.
She chose a light purple gown with a lilac underskirt and a matching hat and heart pendant. In the country, there were few occasions to wear beautiful gowns, and she started to appreciate them. She wanted to look her best, lest Tristan think last night had worn her out.
No, she was lying. She wanted to see the hunger in his blue gaze again. He hadn’t touched or kissed her, but she was already a wanton woman.
