What the hell? Just what the hell happened? He answered himself with a sigh, You happened. Well, he would make it right. He had to.
***
Babs came away from their encounter totally devastated. She had thought she could be a modern woman, with modern ideals. She thought that she could show him that he loved her. Ha! She had been wrong, so wrong.
He not only didn’t love her, he didn’t want to hear it from her either, Babs thought as a sob caught in her throat. She was a fool. She had thought if they made love, he would have to admit his feelings to himself and then to her, but she was wrong. He didn’t love her at all. He had warned her off early in their introduction to one another, and this was not his fault.
This was her fault. She thought—she had been so sure—that he loved her and that he would declare it to her once they had consummated their feelings for each other.
Wrong!
She was the worst kind of fool, because she had lied—tricked herself into believing only what she wanted to believe and not what he had been telling her, that he was only in it for ‘fun’.
She had to get away from him and couldn’t allow him to see how hurt she was. She would have to behave as though nothing had happened and nothing ever would again … and oh, that hurt as much as knowing he was not really in love with her.
Making love with him had been the culmination of her dream. It was everything she had hoped it could be. He had brought her to the edge and given her sweet release, and she would never be able to do that with any other man. She knew that she was made for only him—for her beloved Lord Wildfire.
The inn was in sight, and the sky opened up once more. The downpour of the rain soaking her, covering her from head to booted toe, helped her. She wouldn’t have to face a soul as she ran to her room to get out of her wet clothes and change. She could have a good cry—all by herself, for she would never tell anyone about this day. She would keep it as a sweet memory … only a memory.
And when they should chance to meet … tears flowed freely down her cheek … she would behave as though nothing had ever passed between them. She would laugh and jest and give him no more than a passing remark as she moved out of his reach!
Fifteen
SIR EDWARD HAD hired bachelor lodgings for the Brighton season. They were centrally located, decorated in the first stare of elegance and furnished with more style and flair than comfort.
This singular thought came to mind as he attempted to find some measure of ease in a wing chair situated by the bow window, which overlooked the quiet street below.
He sighed and came to grips with himself. This was utterly frustrating—everything about Lady Babs was frustrating—but eventually the Waverlys would arrive. After all, where could they be?
They had leased a house, and that house (he had checked) was in readiness for their arrival. The staff hadn’t a clue, however, when that might be, as they had already been expected to do so.
He stood and paced over his Oriental rug. He knew he was obsessed, and he knew that wasn’t healthy. Yet—he couldn’t do anything to stop his obsession. He wanted her to the point of distraction.
He could not, would not be beaten in this.
She needed a set down—and by all that was holy, he was just the man to give it to her!
He moved towards his window and saw that his man had arrived and was already skipping up the steps of his lodgings. Good.
He stood, his hands clasped at his back as he waited for the study door to open and his man to enter.
“Sir?” His gentleman’s gentleman, Jeffry, was breathless as he timidly stuck his head into the salon.
“Come in, come in, don’t dawdle!” Sir Edward snapped.
“Yes, sir,” Jeffry answered.
“Well—what have you discovered?” Sir Edward inquired impatiently.
“Backtracked, sir … and discovered from an acquaintance of mine that the entire Waverly family have stopped at the Red Lion and are looking after a sick friend.”
“A sick friend? Who could that be?”
“My friend didn’t know more than that, sir.”
Sir Edward went thoughtful but dug into his pocket, found a coin, and placed it in his servant’s hand. “Good man, Jeffry… at least I know what is towards, good man.”
Jeffry bowed himself out, and Sir Edward pulled at his lower lip. A sick friend, eh? Well, that was excusable and not some whim of Lady Barbara’s that took them astray. Fine. Perhaps he would just enjoy himself, as Brighton was already full with the fashionables of his set, and await her arrival. Perhaps?