longing. Of the urge to sacrifice his pride. Of the need to see her, to touch her, talk to her, rail at her. Anything.
He did not know which was more crushing—the prospect of a future looming without Hyacinth in it, or the realization that he was more affected by the end of their fortnight affaire than he had been when Nell had returned his ring and told him she no longer wished to divorce her husband.
He did not bother to drown himself in spirits this time around. There was no point in it. He would simply start thinking of her, and he would be tempted to slip into the gardens through the gate—still broken, because he had been pathetic enough to check on no less than three occasions.
But he had his pride.
At least, the tattered remnants of it.
Hyacinth had been clear in what she wanted from the start of their arrangement. Her marriage to Southwick had been misery enough. She wanted her freedom to lead the life she had been living. She wanted pleasure and passion. She did not want to be bound to another.
Nor had he, he had believed.
And when the time had come, she had walked away. But he had still been standing there like the fool, wanting more from a woman than she was willing to give him. When would he learn?
A knock sounded at his study door, interrupting his misery.
“Enter,” he called restlessly, without ceasing his frustrated stalking.
The portal opened to reveal Trenton. “The Marchioness of Needham to see you, my lord.”
Of all the names. Of all the callers.
By God, this was hardly what Tom wanted now. Certainly not what he needed now. Once, his heart would have leapt at the knowledge Nell was here. He would have hoped she had changed her mind. That she had come back to him.
That time was long gone.
“Tell her ladyship I am not at home,” he instructed his butler.
“That will hardly be necessary, Trenton,” said a brisk, all-too-familiar voice. “I can plainly see his lordship is at home.”
There, behind Trenton, stood his sometime betrothed. Effortlessly lovely in a pink gown. Tom looked at her and felt only irritation.
He flicked a glance back to Trenton, who looked perplexed at this rude development. But he ought not to have been. Nell had never stood on ceremony, and she had once been quite familiar with his household.
“Thank you, Trenton, that will be all,” he said grimly.
The butler bowed and made himself scarce.
Nell swept into the room.
“Lady Needham,” he greeted her, the salutation feeling oddly stilted.
Once, they had been much more than two strangers politely greeting each other. Once, she had been beloved to him. The woman he had kissed. The woman he’d had every intention of making his wife. But that time was over, and he was no longer the man he had been when she had been his betrothed. He suspected it was no different for her.
A hesitant smile lit her lovely face. “I do hope we need not adhere to such strict formality as friends, but if that is what you wish, Lord Sidmouth it is.”
She dipped into a curtsy that was formal and elegant.
And blast her, but she looked happy. She looked well. During the time he had been her betrothed, Nell had ever been swinging from one party to the next, drowning herself in wine and all manner of mayhem. Love became her.
He bowed in return, equally solemn and perfunctory. “What the devil brings you here, my lady?”
He could think of no reason for her abrupt appearance at his townhome once more. The last visit she had paid had been bitterly unpleasant. She had returned his ring. He had acted the cad, saying things he would forever regret. He had been unkind and callous, it was true. But he had felt as if she had ripped his beating heart from his chest and ground it beneath the soles of her boots.
“Needham and I are returned to Town,” she said softly.
Ah, back from the country. Mayhap their honeymoon and the golden bliss of their reunion was already at an end. But the moment Tom entertained the notion, he struck it from his mind as unworthy. Even if Nell and her husband were once more at odds, he did not give a damn. He no longer felt for her the way he once had.
Indeed, when he looked upon her now, he felt…different. The love had faded. The anger and resentment had, too.