Chapter 10

For reasons Titus was not going to contemplate, he'd been out of sorts since Lady Swan's dinner party. He was supposed to be aiding Portia, but every gentleman he'd come up with as a candidate was either lacking personality, not well-read enough, or didn't enjoy the country or long walks. None of them would suit her. She deserved love, friendship, adventure, … damn. The Season would soon be coming to an end, and he was running out of time to help her.

Then there was his mystery goddess. At every event he'd attended, save Lady Swan's dinner, he'd searched for her, certain he would know her, and yet she continued to remain a mystery. It was as if he was missing a piece to a puzzle.

And then there was Portia's question regarding marriage that had been weighing on his mind. He supposed he owed it to his father to sire an heir, but was that a good enough reason to take a chance that he would have a better union than his father's?

There had been a time in his life when he'd thought he would want a wife and children eventually, but his mother had shifted the course of those beliefs. Why could he not shake free of the past? That distant day when she'd left, and the painful days—too many to count—that had followed, still tore at his happiness.

"Women are evil," Titus said in a huff as he plopped down beside Portia under the grand oak tree. He could not comprehend why his mother had not stayed, not even for him. When he'd questioned his father, all he'd said was that she needed time to heal. Heal from what? Didn't his love, or Father's love, bring her any comfort from whatever ailed her?

"Am I evil?" Portia's sweet, innocent voice questioned as she looked at him.

"No." He could never think badly of his friend.

"Then all women are not evil," she reasoned. "What happened?"

"Mother left me and Father."

The spot between her delicate brows crinkled. "Left for?—"

"Her lover. She left us for her lover." It was the only plausible excuse his adolescent brain could come up with.

"Doesn't she love you anymore?" It was such a simple question, in which only a single word response was necessary.

"No."

A soft, gentle hand reached out and took his within her own. "I love you, Titus."

I love you, Titus.

Portia's endearment echoed in his mind.

Had she?

Did she?

"You're awfully quiet this morning," Aunt Adeline said, bringing him out of his musings. She continued to eye him, waiting for a response, but his thoughts drifted once again.

He'd been curious for weeks—ever since his aunt had told him that she'd promised his father to help him find true love—but had been reluctant to question her since he knew it meant Aunt Adeline would launch into another lecture about his ways.

So it was much to his relief that Flora not only broached the topic, but asked the same specific question. "Why did you promise Papa to help me find true love?"

Aunt Adeline's eyes softened as she told the story of how her parents met and fell in love. "Your great-grandfather left the earldom in a disastrous state. So much so, your grandfather believed the only way out of the dire financial predicament was to marry an heiress. With his mind set, he embarked on the Season in London with the sole purpose of finding such a woman. What he had not counted on was his heart."

"Grandfather met Granny at a ball, I think?" Flora asked, already knowing the answer.

This was a story that had been told many times over the years, and Titus had often tuned out the words. Both cousins could probably recite the retelling verbatim, but as Aunt Adeline began her tale, there was something special in her words. Though he had never realized before just how special.

"Yes, that's right. The moment he saw your grandmother, he knew she was the only woman for him." A sweet giggle escaped Aunt Adeline's lips. "He often said it was as if his heart was full and his life suddenly had purpose. The only problem was her dowry. She was not the heiress he desperately needed. But his heart never wavered."

Titus knew this part of the story by memory as well. His grandparents married, and with what little funds they had, slowly turned around the estates. It wasn't until a distant uncle passed without issue, leaving Grandfather with a sizeable inheritance that he knew the earldom would survive. He remembered his grandfather once saying that all the money in the world could not make up for a husband and wife working together, struggling together, succeeding together. And along the way, they'd fallen more deeply in love than when they'd first met.

"My brothers and I wanted that same sort of love for ourselves, and for our children." There was a sadness in her words.

"Were you in love with Uncle Edgar?" Flora asked.

"Oh, very much so." One would have had to be blind and hard of hearing not to see the love in her eyes and the caring in her voice. "My only regret is that we did not have children of our own." Aunt Adeline had suffered through several miscarriages, but never seemed bitter. Quite the contrary. She embraced Titus and Flora even more, relishing in her role as aunt.

Flora tilted her head to one side, her eyes softening as she asked, "How did you know you were in love?"

Before he could stop them, the words poured from Titus's mouth. "When all thoughts are centered on her and you can't wait to see her again, hear her sweet voice talk of all the weird facts and knowledge she has stored in her brain from years of reading, and reveal your deepest desires and fondest wishes, to hold her and?—"

"Are you in love?" both his aunt and cousin questioned at the same time.

Damn. He blinked several times, the present coming into focus. What had he just revealed?

Both his aunt and cousin just stared at him, waiting for him to answer. What was he supposed to say when his feelings were so cloudy and conflicted? He couldn't very well deny it; his aunt would see through the lie. He was desperate to find the woman he'd kissed at the masquerade, for she'd stirred a fire within that he'd never known, and then there was Portia, who enticed him in a different way, almost a more terrifying way, for it meant forsaking events of the past that had been ingrained in his psyche. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

Damn, he was headed for Bedlam.

"I think it best I take my leave."

He turned and walked from the room. Thankfully, neither Aunt Adeline nor Flora called or chased after him. He needed time to think.

Several hours later, after visiting Mr. Mann to arrange for another donation to be delivered, followed by a long ride, he was still no closer to understanding his thoughts. Perhaps all these weeks he'd been chasing a figment of his imagination.

No. He knew her to be real, and of flesh. Her scent of lavender and lemon still lingered in his senses, tempting him. He just needed a different approach to his search. Some nagging instinct poked at his conscience.

The truth was before him, and yet he could not decipher what it meant. If he could just discover the answers he sought, then all the pieces would come together.

After more hours than he cared to admit, Titus had formed a new plan to discover the identity of his goddess. He knew her to be about the same height as Portia, as she came up to his chin. He knew her to be a little shy and uncertain too, very similar to how Portia had been at Lady Swan's dinner. He knew her scent, and that she wore a light shimmering blue dress. Perhaps that was a favorite color?

With a renewed sense of determination, he marched into Lord and Lady Dunn's ball, which they were hosting for their twin daughters' nineteenth birthday. He scanned the room, taking in what every young lady was wearing this evening.

I wonder what color Portia's gown will be tonight?

He continued to look about, but didn't see her anywhere. Had she not arrived yet?

In the near distance, he spied Lady Oaks speaking with Lady Baldwin. Portia's half-sister and her daughter were in attendance, so where was she? A shiver ran down his spine, sending a warning. That pair meant trouble. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a shimmering blue dress disappear into the crowd.

After all these weeks, could he have found his goddess again? Was she truly here?

He hurried in the direction she'd disappeared, bumping into a couple of guests in the process. After issuing a hurried apology, he continued on his course. Where had she gone? He moved farther into the ballroom, but instead of finding the woman who'd tempted his soul, he came face to face with Miss Oaks.

"Lord Ravensworth, it is such a pleasure to see you this evening," Miss Oaks said, her words dripping with an ulterior motive.

He was about to turn away when music began to resonate around them, signaling a set was about to begin. He caught the eye of Lady Baldwin and knew without a doubt that if he didn't offer to dance with Miss Oaks, gossip would spread all over Town. Not that he cared for his reputation, but only for that of his cousin's.

"Would you care to da?—"

"Yes!" Miss Oaks exclaimed, not allowing him to finish his question.

This was going to be the longest set of his life.

Titus guided Miss Oaks to the dance floor, and moments later, the music began. At every opportunity, she questioned him about his likes, if he was enjoying Town, and then she asked a question that made him stumble and practically step on her toes.

"And did you enjoy the masquerade?" Her eyelids flittered coquettishly.

"What did you say?"

"The masquerade." They parted, maneuvering through the next steps with different partners, then returned. "Although weeks ago, it was my favorite engagement thus far. It was the night I first noticed you."

He could not answer her, his mind toiling with other thoughts, as suspicions began to rise. Where was Portia? When the dance finally came to an end, he quickly returned Miss Oaks to her mother and took his leave of their party. For the next half hour, he searched for Portia, but to no avail. He couldn't quite place why, but he was desperate to talk to her.

Just as it was when you were young and something was wrong. She was always there for you, always listening and talking. Why was the past tormenting him?

"She's not here." Flora's statement halted his search.

He turned and met her curious gaze. "Who's not here?" His young cousin could not possibly know the direction of his thoughts.

"Still in denial, I see. Well, then, I shall not humor you," was all Flora said, then offered a wink and turned away.

Damn and bloody hell, but he needed fresh air and a drink, not necessarily in that order. He started toward the front hall, the door that offered freedom just in sight, when he heard his aunt call from behind.

"Titus, a word." The three words brooked no argument. He halted his escape but did not turn around. "You have been out of sorts since the masquerade. Why won't you confide in me? You can't always run away," she said.

For once in his life, he knew that advice to be true.

The masquerade.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Well, perhaps not all, but there was a glimmer of light brightening in the dark recesses of his mind. He didn't quite know what it meant, but he did know he could not tackle it on his own.

He turned around to face her. "I need your help, Aunt Adeline."

* * *

Portia sat on her bed, wondering how, once again, she'd become a prisoner in her half-sister's home. After she'd readied for Lord and Lady Dunn's ball, and gone to join her relatives, she'd discovered the door to her room had been locked, and the key was nowhere to be found.

She'd pounded on the door until her hand ached, and then pounded some more, until Russell announced rather firmly from the other side of the door, "Lady Oaks has ordered you to stay in tonight."

Portia had no choice but to oblige. The door was locked and her room was on an upper floor, too high to risk climbing out of the window and….

And then what?

Where could she go? Who could she turn to? Once again, the loneliness she'd often felt since her papa passed away crept into her heart, weighing her down.

Would anyone wonder what had happened to her? Would Titus notice her absence? They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms, not after her question. Do you ever intend to marry?

How could she have asked him that, especially knowing that he'd suffered from a broken heart? She certainly made a mess of things with Titus.

There was nothing to do but wait and see what Judith had in store for her.

* * *

The sun had risen and set, and apart from one of the sour old downstairs maids delivering food, no one had entered Portia's room. On the second morning of her exile, that changed, and not for the better.

"There is much to celebrate this morning," Judith announced as the door to Portia's room opened wide.

She looked past her half-sister to see Russell standing sentinel just beyond the doorway. Even if Portia had thought of a suitable plan of escape, she was certain she would not make it past the large, formidable butler.

"Aren't you curious as to why?" Judith asked Portia in a tone that she knew all too well. This could not be good news, for Portia at least. She kept silent, waiting for the final blow. "Lord Webber has officially offered for you, and I have accepted. Everything is all set for your departure this afternoon."

Dread rose up from within. There were still a couple of weeks left of the Season. Surely she'd misheard.

"But I thought?—"

"We had an agreement. If another man offered, then I would have considered that, but none have." Judith offered a satisfied grin. "As you can see, I am a woman of my word."

Portia wanted to kick and scream, and run from the room, but in the end, fear kept her firmly in place. She could not fight Judith and the butler, not to mention anyone else who might waylay her as she tried to leave. Plus, she had no funds to start a new life. She would just have to plan a different escape. She prayed the opportunity to enact such a plan would present itself.