Unconventional Suitors 02 - Her Unconventional Hero Page 12

  Adel felt hot with embarrassment at his boldness. “No father, it was nothing like that. My virtue was not compromised, just my heart.”

  “You fell in love,” he stated simply and Adel nodded. “And he broke your heart,” he guessed further.

  Adel’s lower lip quivered as she looked into her father’s plain, brown eyes. “I thought I was beginning to move on from mother’s passing. I had begun to hope for a happiness that I had long given up upon, only to have that happiness crushed to pieces. I couldn’t bear the thought of remaining in London and seeing him, knowing I never meant as much to him as he did to me. Please forgive my cowardice, but I just couldn’t do it.”

  “You are not a coward. You are just a heartbroken girl that needs some time to recover. I do not mind at all that you came home, but I want you to promise me something.”

  “What?”

  “That you won’t remain in your misery. I can’t stand seeing you so blue deviled, it simply isn’t in your nature. I want you to rediscover the little girl who believed in fairy tales and happy endings and dashing princes, who loved to laugh and run barefoot through the gardens. I want you to believe in love because it’s the only thing that makes this life worth living. It is hard to imagine now, but someday you will find someone to love and you’ll learn a new kind of happiness, a greater kind that outweighs anything you have ever experienced before. But that will never happen if you don’t allow yourself to be happy.” He reached forward and tilted her chin up so that her eyes met his. “You deserve happiness, sweetheart. Please believe that.”

  Could it be true? Did she really deserve to be happy? If so, how could she come to believe it for herself? Her father’s words gave her hope, but she wasn’t exactly sure how to make it happen.

  “Adel, there’s always going to be unpleasantness in life. People are going to disappoint us and cause us pain, but it doesn’t mean that we simply stop living because of it. Even if I had known that your mother would be taken from me too soon, I still would have loved her with everything I had. How can I regret my years with her, the love that we shared and the family we made?” Tears once more formed in Adel’s eyes as she listened to her father’s heartfelt words. Then he surprised her by saying, “Maybe this gentleman that broke your heart deserves a second chance.”

  She startled at his words. “I’m not certain that is true.”

  “Well, only you can decide, but if he has the power to cause you this much unhappiness, that generally means that at some point he had the ability to produce within you a great deal of happiness. You must decide if that is worth giving up on.”

  Her father’s words replayed over and over in her mind as she laid in bed that night, unable to sleep. Had she been too quick to give up on the budding relationship with Griffin? She thought back to his revelation and felt her heart breaking all over again. If only he had professed his love for her she could have perhaps been convinced that the bet did not matter, but he did no such thing. Perhaps, she thought, he meant more to her than she ever did to him.

  Rising from her bed, she straightened her cotton nightdress and covered it with her wrapper. The night was still relatively young. She knew that her father liked to keep to country hours and would have long ago retired for the night, but usually the servants stayed up for several more hours.

  Grabbing a candle, she lit it in the fire then slid from her room, hoping to find the cook still in the kitchen. Perhaps she could beg her to make her a hot posset so she could get some sleep and stop thinking about what could have been with Griffin. She made her way silently to the kitchen, promising herself that tomorrow she would find a way to let his memory go and learn to be happy, just as her father suggested.

  Chapter 15

  Adel awoke on her second day of being home, feeling as if she had never left. It was easy to imagine that her life at Terrace Manor was the only life that existed when she easily fell back into her usual routine. Arising early, she found her way to the stables where she mounted her favorite mare, a gentle and aging horse she had favored since childhood, taking her on a languid ride over the property where she stopped long enough to enjoy the rising sun along the horizon.

  Silent, peaceful moments such as this were what made her heart feel content. She had a propensity for pondering on what might have been, had her mother lived, or had Griffin not used her as an object in his bet, when she was sitting atop her mare, but with the sun shining a brilliant orange as it poured delicious sunlight on everything within reach, she was able to forget about all the might have beens and focus on that very moment.

  It wasn’t until her stomach began to rumble that she decided it was best that she head back to the house to partake of breakfast with her father. Her father was very much a man of routine, and Adel knew, just as surely as she knew that the sun would rise on her morning ride, that her father would be sitting down to break his fast at precisely ten o’clock. And she also knew that he would eat a slice of ham, two poached eggs, an almond scone with clotted cream, and a cup of coffee just like he had every morning since she could remember. There was something about his strict observance of routine that comforted Adel.

  “Good morning, Adel,” her father said after wiping his linen napkin across his mouth. “I take it you have been out for a ride?” he asked as he eyed her simple brown riding habit.

  “I have,” she replied as she finished filling her plate up with food from the sideboard. Unlike her father, she preferred a variety of foods. “You should join me sometime.”

  Her father laughed, “You know it isn’t likely that I will be awake before the sun to join you, but perhaps you would like to join me on my walk in the gardens once we are finished here.”

  “I would like that very much,” she answered truthfully, grateful for any time she got to spend with him.

  Adel’s father finished his breakfast before her, but sat quietly reading the paper while he waited for her to finish. She hurried through her meal faster than she would normally have done, knowing that her father didn’t like to veer much from his strict daily routine.

  He cleared his throat as he discarded the paper beside him. Adel looked up at him, anticipating his encouragement that they get going on their way, but he surprised her by saying instead, “I do not understand society’s fascination with the scandal sheets found in these otherwise reputable papers, nor do I understand why someone would glean any amount of satisfaction from reporting on the sordid affairs of their peers.”

  Adel felt guilt creep painfully and suddenly within her and prayed that her father could not tell that his words had had any effect on her. She tried to appear nonchalant as she took a sip of her tea.

  He continued, “Many a person’s reputation has been ruined by what has been written in such columns. On more than one occasion I have wished that people could simply keep their nose out of other people’s affairs. Can you perhaps enlighten me as to why the whole ton is so fascinated with each other’s lives?”

  Adel swallowed hard, not sure how to answer. Finally she began hesitantly, “I think it is merely another source of amusement for them, Papa. It gives people something to focus on instead of worrying about the details of their own lives.” At least that was true for her, for her only intent in writing as Mrs. Tiddlyswan had been to create a diversion from her sadness.

  Her father sighed, “You are probably correct, but that doesn’t make it proper. I’ve seen too many lives ruined by those nosy gossip columnists reporting on business that was none of their affair.”

  Adel swiftly rose from her chair, wishing desperately to change the subject before her guilt consumed her. “It’s half past the hour; if we do not hurry, we will be late for your walk.”

  Her father smiled as he rose too. “By all means, then we surely shall be on our way.”

  Adel linked arms with her father, letting him lead her from the house and into the lush gardens. The splendid flower beds where in full bloom, making the estate seem more alive. June was Adel’s favorite month
for that very reason. She had always wanted to be wed in June, so she could be married surrounded by the most brilliant flowers of the season. Her heart twinged with sadness at the thought, realizing that now that was likely to never happen, for she had made up her mind to not return to London for another season, so finding a husband would be nearly impossible.

  They strolled in silence with Adel pausing occasionally to smell a flower or touch one velvety petal. She very much enjoyed the quiet, comfortable companionship she shared with her father.

  Halfway through their walk, her father began speaking once more, as if there had never been a pause in their earlier conversation. “I had a friend once whose life was ruined by a rumor spread in the scandal sheets. Perhaps that sad tale is partly to blame for my severe dislike of the dratted things.”

  “How was his life ruined?” Adel asked hesitantly, unsure if she truly wanted to know the answer.

  “It was rather pathetic, really. My friend had fallen in love with a girl whom he intended to wed. Before he could seek her father’s permission, unbeknownst to him, he was seen in a compromising position with the girl. Granted it was foolish of him to take advantage of his beloved like that, but he had every intention of wedding her. However, the very next day the scandal sheets were reporting that he had been seen compromising not the woman he loved, but her cousin.” Her father paused and laughed dryly, without so much as a hint of amusement. “To be fair, the two ladies did bare a strong resemblance to one another. Nevertheless, as a result of the vicious rumor, the cousin’s father demanded that my friend wed his daughter to save her reputation. I had never seen so many people devastated and utterly heartbroken before or since. My friend and his beloved were forced apart, while the cousin was forced into a marriage with a man who refused to ever give her his heart.”

  “That’s awful,” Adel muttered with sympathy, feeling a new depth of guilt for her actions. She hated to think that one of her columns could have been the means of so much tragedy.

  “It is,” her father agreed. “But what is even more awful is the fact that the Earl of Westingham could never move past his bitterness. Over the years he came to resemble little of the man he had once been, so jovial and gay, until he turned completely miserable and aloof. Sadly enough, our friendship did not endure long after his wedding; he was much too unpleasant to associate with.”

  Adel reeled with shock at her father’s sad tale of woe. The Earl of Westingham was Griffin’s father! How tragic that his life had been ruined by false gossip. Remorse filled her more fully for what she had done. She should never have written under the alias of Mrs. Tiddlyswan, she realized now. There was no way for her to know if she had destroyed others’ lives in her quest for amusement and distraction. How could she ever hope to make her actions right if she didn’t even know what the consequences were?

  Her mind instantly conjured Lord Danford, and she cringed. Though his tale had turned out well, there had definitely been a time where, because of her reportings, his reputation had hung in the balance, not to mention the unforeseen pain she had unintentionally caused his family and those who associated with him. She wondered if it would somehow be possible for her to apologize to the man without revealing her identity and foolish deeds. Deciding that there was no way to go about it, she reluctantly gave up on the idea altogether.

  Next she thought of Griffin, and though she had never written a word about him, she felt a strong desire to apologize to him, perhaps because he was the only other person alive who knew about her alias as Mrs. Tiddlyswan. She quickly squelched that notion, however, not entirely ready to speak to him again.

  Turning to her father, she asked him in all seriousness, “Do you think that someone who has done something so utterly foolish could ever hope to be forgiven?”

  Her father was thoughtful for a moment before asking, “To what are you referring? Have you done something foolish, Adel? Is there something you have done that needs to be forgiven?”

  Adel hung her head in shame. She couldn’t admit her follies to her father, for not only would he be ashamed of her actions, he’d be severely disappointed in her as well, the thought nearly crushing her. “Oh Papa, I have, though I do not wish to tell you the precise nature of my wrongdoings for fear of your disappointment.”

  Adel felt her father’s arm slide around her waist, pulling her close to his side. “Sweetheart, your actions may disappoint me, but eventually I would get over it just as any decent parent would do, and I would never, ever stop loving you. You do know that, don’t you?”

  Adel braved looking into his eyes as she answered honestly, “Yes father, I do, and I love you.”

  “Good,” he replied with a warm smile. “Now you must tell me. Do your disappointing actions have anything to do with the gentleman who has broken your heart?”

  Adel thought about his question for a moment as they gingerly strolled along, side by side. How much was she willing to divulge to him? Finally she said, “The man who broke my heart is the Earl of Westingham’s son, the Viscount Straton.”

  Her father stopped walking,a look of thoughtful concern on his face. “Interesting,” was all he said.

  Adel hurried to explain, “He never compromised me, so please do not think it. He did other things that made me realize he didn’t care about me in the same way that I had come to care for him.”

  “I do not personally know Lord Straton. Is he much like his father then?”

  She thought about her father’s description of Griffin’s father—miserable and aloof. “No, I wouldn’t say that he is miserable and unbearable to be around, though I will admit that I found him to be copiously arrogant before I got to know him better.”

  “And what did you discover in your acquaintance with him?”

  “His mother died a few years ago, and he misses her like I miss Mama.”

  “And I presume he has a strained relationship with his father?”

  “Yes,” she stated simply. “You would be correct in that presumption.”

  “Then perhaps that makes his mother’s death even more tragic, for at least you still have one parent alive who loves you and wants a relationship with you.”

  Suddenly Adel felt sorry for Griffin in a way that she had never done so before. She had never paused long enough in her own sorrow to think that his could somehow be worse.

  “Adel,” her father said softly, pulling her out of her reverie, “do you think that his own sorrow could have played a role in how he treated you?”

  Her immediate answer was, “Not at all,” for she was certain that he hadn’t been woeful when he had issued Lord Danford the bet, but as the day went on and her father returned to his customary daily routine, it gave her a lot of time to think, and think she did.

  Griffin had explained the bet to her so nonchalantly, as if it were normal to wish to see your friend miserable and embarrassed. Now, she wasn’t entirely certain as to how a man’s mind worked, but some little inkling inside of her urged her to believe that maybe his ill-mannered bet and his arrogance had more to do with his misery than she initially supposed.

  Perhaps he used it, like she had used her gossip column, as a distraction from his pain. Not for the first time where Griffin was concerned, Adel felt an odd kinship with him. And though she wasn’t entirely ready to forgive his actions, her sudden understanding of his behavior put her one step closer on that path. Where before, the thought of him sent her into a fit of despair, now she could think of him and honestly believe that someday her heart would be able to let go of the pain he had caused, though it would never entirely be free from him.

  Chapter 16

  Nearly a week had gone by since that fateful day that Adel had stormed out of Griffin’s life. It had been the longest, most boring week of his life. His melancholy stole any desire he may have had to converse and socialize, so instead of attending the balls and routs put on by the ton, as he would normally do, he stayed at home, wallowing in despair.

  Each morning he anxiously awai
ted the delivery of The Morning Post, nervously anticipating the scathing words Adel had promised to write. He had been more than a little surprised that she had not missed even a day of penning her column while she supposedly traveled on to Kent, and even more surprising was the fact that as of yet, no word had appeared regarding him, his friends, or Lady Danford. Though he should have felt relief, the lack of mention was making him grow increasingly nervous. He was certain that as her anger grew, her revenge would as well.

  Sitting in the morning room with a plate of eggs and toast before him, he called out to the butler, “Have the papers arrived yet?”

  His butler disappeared for the briefest of moments before returning with a stack of the daily papers. Griffin snatched them from him and eagerly flipped through them until he found The Morning Post. His hand shook with nervous anticipation as he thumbed through the sheets until he found Mrs. Tiddlyswan’s column.

  As the Season begins to wind down, every mother appears to have grown almost vicious in their pursuit of husbands for their comely and eligible daughters. Just last night at the Edward’s rout, Lady Matherton was overheard plotting to trap Lord Chesterfield in the library with her daughter Lady Esmeralda in hopes of the pair being found in a compromising position and being forced to wed. Indeed, Lady Matherton’s plan worked, and I am proud to be the first to report that Lord Chesterfield and Lady Esmeralda will be announcing their engagement shortly.

  Griffin’s jaw hung open in dismay. How was Adel privy to such gossip when she wasn’t even in London? It thoroughly stunned him. Maybe she hadn’t gone to Kent after all. Shaking his head, he began to read once more.

  On a more serious note, this author has just learned that the Baron Moncreif is on the verge of financial ruin. His propensity for gambling and womanizing has dried up the last of his limited funds. Word has it that he keeps his wife in deplorable conditions to free up funds while he attempts to juggle his numerous obligations. It’s rather unfortunate indeed that he can’t hang his hopes on marrying a wealthy lady to save him from his inevitable future in debtor’s prison.