The Earl's Inconvenient Wife. Julia Justiss

Giff help her? All she’d done was pat his hand and—oh, my! The bolt of attraction was so strong she’d been immobilised by it. So much that she forgot where she was and what she was doing, her brain wiped free of every thought except the wonder of what it might feel like to kiss him.

      She didn’t seem to be doing a very good job of ignoring the attraction. Perhaps she ought to regretfully acknowledge that a complication had arisen in what had previously been a carefree, straightforward friendship, and be on guard against it.

      The last thing she should do was allow curiosity to lure her into exploring where those impulses might lead.

      And then she had to laugh. It was highly unlikely that handsome, commanding, virile Gifford Newell, who probably had never seen her as anything but his best friend’s troublesome little sister, would be interested in pursuing such feelings with her—even though she was quite certain he had felt the explosive force of that touch. Not when he already had long-standing and mutually satisfactory relations with ladies far more practised and alluring than she was.

      Which was just as well. It would be unfair to invite him down a pathway she already knew she could never follow to its ultimate end. The mere thought of what that would entail sent a shudder of distaste through her.

      Still, despite the uncomfortable, edgy feelings he roused in her, she enjoyed his company and counted him as one of the few people whose honesty and dependability she could count on. Though in the past he’d often exasperated her with his teasing, as she grew older, he’d begun to listen to her with an appreciation and understanding exceeded only by her sister’s. She simply refused to give in and let this...irrational attraction she didn’t seem able to suppress spoil a friendship she valued so dearly.

      If she were forced to have a Season—and she didn’t see how she was going to avoid it, however unpleasant the prospect—she really would prefer to get it over with. She’d vowed, when she turned fifteen and first discovered the implications of her close resemblance to her mother, never to let anyone see how much the censure and unearned criticism hurt. No, she intended to meet society’s scorn with a public show of defiance—and weather it privately with fortitude. Though occasionally—if anger got the better of her, which it well might—she might be goaded into doing something truly outrageous, just to live down to society’s expectations of her.

      The delight of doing that wouldn’t make enduring the rest of the ordeal any less unpleasant.

      It really would be helpful to have Lady Sayleford guarding her back. Assuming, after meeting her and listening to Temper’s frank avowal of how she intended to behave, that lady was willing to take her on.

      Doing so, though, would mean having Gifford Newell act as her intermediary.

      It wouldn’t necessarily mean they’d see each other much more often than they did now, aside from the initial interview with Lady Sayleford, she reasoned. He’d just emphatically reaffirmed what she already knew—that, as he wasn’t ready to take a wife, he had no intention of frequenting the sort of Marriage Mart entertainments she would be forced to endure. He would simply turn her over to his godmother and go back to his own pursuits.

      She couldn’t suppress a little sigh of regret. Despite the recent complication in their relationship, she knew with Gifford nearby, she would be safe—protected from the worst of the insults and scorn of those who disapproved of her and from any men who might seek to take advantage. And she truly would enjoy witnessing his reaction to all the Marriage Mart manoeuvring.

      But since it was highly unlikely he would attend any of the entertainments she would be dragged to, she’d better work up the courage to face all those threats alone. After all, when Pru married, as she certainly would—what intelligent man could resist her darling sister?—Temper truly would be alone. Permanently.

      For the first time, Temper faced that bleak prospect, not as some distant spectre, but as an event that would likely happen soon. She had to put a hand to her stomach to still the wave of bleakness and dismay that swept through her.

      Wasn’t gaining her independence what she wanted, though? She tried to rally herself. She’d still have Gregory and Christopher, Gifford’s special friendship and could look forward to playing the proud aunt to Pru’s eventual children. Doubtless somewhere in her family tree she could find some indigent female relation who would prove both congenial and willing to live with her.

      As an independent woman, she’d be able to attend the lectures that interested her, visit the shops and galleries, and—her greatest ambition—work towards equipping herself to travel to the fascinating foreign places she’d read so much about. Foreign places where she could immerse herself in history and culture while she sought out treasures for her father. Where she could be herself, free of the stifling restrictions society imposed over women of her class. And, most important, having escaped the threating spectre of marriage, she might even manage some day to free herself from the dark shadows of her past.

      All she need do to attain those goals was make it through one Season.

      * * *

      After ringing for the footman to collect the tea tray, she’d been about to go upstairs when a commotion at the front door announced the arrival of Aunt Gussie.

      ‘Darling Temperance!’ Lady Stoneway cried, handing her cloak over to a footman and coming over to hug her. ‘How lovely you look!’

      ‘You are looking in fine fettle, too, Aunt Gussie! The prospect of a sojourn in Bath obviously agrees with you.’

      ‘I am looking forward to it,’ her aunt allowed, joining Temperance to mount the stairs. ‘Are you sure you won’t come with us? Pru is going to miss your company—and your support—so very much! And I will, too.’

      Dismissing a pang of longing, Temperance said firmly, ‘No, I shall stay here. Not that I’m not grateful for your offer, but...I simply won’t turn tail and flee, just because some idiots created a scandal that was not in any way Mama’s fault.’ Nor am I interested in going where I might encounter a gentleman admirable enough that you and Pru would try to persuade me to marry him.

      Her aunt sighed. ‘It is unfair, I admit. To your mama, as well as to you and Pru. But truly, my dear, in Bath we will have a fair chance of avoiding most of the scandal, finally allowing the two of you an opportunity to be courted, find a worthy gentleman to marry and settle down happily in your own households!’

      ‘That’s Pru’s hope, not mine,’ Temper reminded her aunt.

      Lady Stoneway shook her head. ‘Still dreaming of travel to some faraway place? I thought you would outgrow that foolish wish.’

      ‘I haven’t, for all that the wish might be foolish. However, though I couldn’t convince Papa to allow me my dowry without having a Season, perhaps after it turns disastrous and he realises marriage to anyone save a fortune-hunting scoundrel is impossible, he will relent.’ For I’m highly unlikely, Papa, to encounter a true gentleman who wants to ‘protect’ me. Not if he knew the whole truth...

      ‘I’m not at all convinced it need be disastrous,’ Lady Stoneway protested. ‘So, you’re going to wait for London next year after all?’

      ‘Oh, no. As I told you when the scandal first broke, if I must debut, I intend to do so here, in London, just as we planned.’

      Lady Stoneway stopped short, turning to look at Temper in astonishment. ‘You intend to attempt a Season this year? In London?’

      ‘Yes—if I can find a sponsor. But you mustn’t even think of changing your plans! Pru is eager to marry and I fully agree her chances of finding a respectable partner will be far better in Bath. Whereas, since I don’t wish to marry, it makes no difference to me that having a London Season now will likely produce...disappointing results. In fact, if it’s truly bad, I might be able to convince Papa to let me abandon the effort after a month or so. But please, no more talk of that now. I haven’t told Pru—she might feel obligated to change her plans and stay here to support me, which is the very last thing I want. She’s been waiting so