Loving the Enemy

Chapter 12

"What would you like me to admit, Miss Kendall?"

"The kiss in the library. Did you only kiss me because of what I did and said to you last night?"

His infinitesimal pause felt like a thousand years to her. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"So, if last night hadn't happened at all, the kiss in the library would never have happened?"

"...Yes. This afternoon was an aberration on my part and I sincerely apologise for having caused any sort of confusion on your side. It will not happen again."

She was abjectly disappointed. Had she expected a different answer from him?

Why should she? At nearly every turn, he'd been the one to insist on correctness while she'd wanted otherwise. He'd responded in kind only because she'd been the one to start the chain of events.

He didn't desire her.

He never had.

She was but a convenient foil for his temporary lapse in judgement.

She would do well to remember that.

"Thank you for your honesty, Mr Wyndham. Let me not keep you from tonight's amusements."

Even as Philip leapt and twirled and circled his partners while they were dancing, a part of him was still on the settee, beside Miss Kendall. His heart pinched in memory of the despair he'd seen in her eyes at his answer. Her quiet reply, without all the vivacity he was used to seeing in her, had torn him in two.

It was a necessity to ensure that she wouldn't develop a tendresse for him. Yet, it still pained him to see her in distress.

He'd hoped it still wasn't too late for him to put a stop to her feelings for him, but judging by her reaction, that ship had already sailed.

They certainly made a fine pair. Both of them were on a course that hurtled towards each other but it would only result in a wreck.

Having seen the result of his parents' marriage, he was certain that they would be unhappy together.

The right thing to do would be to withdraw totally and not have any contact with her. But he was helpless in the face of his desire for her. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he only wanted to be near her, regardless of the pain it would cause them both. He was selfish like that. And that selfish part of him revelled in the fact that she desired him.

If he were a lesser man, he'd take advantage of that, consequences be damned. Which he did. This afternoon in the library.

And did it not lead him back full circle to what he knew he should do?

Cursing the impossible situation he found himself in, he knew he could lay the blame on no one but himself. If he were capable of love, he wouldn't be in the situation he was in now.

*˜*˜*˜

15 August 1815

Day 6 of the Torture of being a mess

The early morning mist clung to the grass like a lover who loathed to leave. The wind made the leaves shiver and bodies that were awake huddle deeper into their cloaks, wishing they were near a warm fire.

However, Adelaide relished the chill. It felt like a loving caress across her heated skin. It seemed she was always feeling overly warm these days. She ventured slowly across the fields, not needing to be anywhere in particular. Today's walk was just for her. Even though Wyndham had forbidden it, but she'd needed to get out, even if it were just for a while.