Chapter 11

Titus was most impressed with Aunt Adeline's efforts. After he'd told his aunt the tale of the masked woman who'd captivated his thoughts, she suggested hosting another masquerade. Titus had never imagined that Aunt Adeline could not only plan a masquerade, but arrange for food and entertainments, and have nearly everyone invited accepting the invitation, all within a span of a couple of days. It was most impressive, indeed.

Tonight was the night his goddess would be unmasked. Aunt Adeline and Flora were certain she would arrive with one of the families invited. He hoped they were correct.

Throughout the day, he'd tried to keep his mind distracted, focusing on a different task—namely making a list of eligible men for Portia.

He glanced down at the sheaf of paper. Not one name had he written. Perhaps after this evening, his thoughts would become clearer and he could add a name. He still could not comprehend what his reluctance to aiding her was.

Portia is…

No. He stopped that thought from forming.

Why won't you let her in?

Too many years have passed.

He was growing weary of these arguments with himself. Perhaps if he could have reconciled with the past, there might have been a future, but some things were probably for the best. He didn't want to hurt Portia any more than he already had. He would assist her in finding a proper husband, and then… then what?

Before he could contemplate the question, Grove entered his study. "You have a visitor." Titus raised his gaze, wondering why his long-time, straight-to-the-point butler was being so cryptic. "It's your mother." The words were a punch to his gut.

The room began to spin as the words sunk into his brain. Mother. He hadn't seen the woman in nearly seventeen years when she'd left him and Father for her lover. Why did she have to choose today of all days to darken his doorstep?

He thought about sending her away, but one thing he did remember about her was that she was relentless when she wanted something. Best to get this over and done with now, then you'll be free of the past.

"Show her in."

Titus stood and came around to the other side of the desk, and waited.

Several minutes later, she walked into the room, wearing all black, clearly in mourning. Was it for her lover? Gone were the youthful features he'd known, but her eyes… her dark brown eyes were still the same.

"Thank you for seeing me, Titus. I was?—"

"What do you want?" The words sounded harsh even to his own ears, but he didn't care. He didn't care to care, not after what she'd done.

She worried her black gloved hands. "I… I want to be part of your life again." Although her words sounded sincere, he would not be fooled by them again.

"Why now? Did your lover leave you?" he spat out the words contemptuously.

"There never was a lover. I have been faithful to your father since the day we married." For the second time in a short span, he felt as if he'd been punched in the gut, the wind knocked out of him.

He muttered the only word he could formulate, her confession shocking the hell out of him. "What?"

"I know you probably despise me." She shook her head as her shoulders slumped. "Truth be told, I despise myself." Titus didn't say a word, but waited for her to explain. "I shouldn't have left the way I did all those years ago."

"So, you don't regret leaving Father and me, just how you did it?" Incredulous. What would she reveal next?

"Please, Titus," she started, as she took a step toward him.

He crossed his arms, protecting his heart. He would hear her out and finally have peace. "Say what you want, then leave."

"I will explain, but I will never leave you again. It has taken me a long time to reason with the past, to garner the courage to come here, and I will never leave you again," she repeated, her words firm and full of determination. He'd never recalled her speaking in such a way. "When I married your father, it was not for love, or even a title or wealth. It was to escape."

"Escape? From?—"

"My father." Her eyes lowered, staring at the ground. Her chest rose and fell as she seemed to be working through the demons of long ago. Titus didn't know what to do, and so, he just stood there, waiting for her to explain. "He… he was not a kind man. He… he hurt me in ways I can never tell you."

Understanding of what she was implying shook him to his very core as pain over what she'd obviously endured struck his heart. No woman deserved such treatment. So many questions stormed his mind, but in the end, he settled on the one that offered the fewest details. "Did Father know?"

She nodded her head. "He married me knowing the horrible truth. He thought he could erase it by showering me with gifts, but the nightmares grew. I… I didn't know what to do. All I knew is that I had to escape." She took a cautious step forward. "It's not that I wanted to leave you or your father, but I had to. I needed to leave England, to run from the painful memories. I was scared and unsure, and hurting so much, and could not believe that I was good enough to be loved by William and you. I made up the story about the lover and left." She shook her head as tears filled her eyes. "But your demons always find you. They chase you down and find you, try to destroy you."

Titus understood that all too well. It suddenly dawned on him he'd been so consumed by what he'd thought was the truth as to why his mother had abandoned him, that his life views had been tainted, the fear of not being wanted hardening his heart when things went wrong. For far too long, he'd missed out on the joy, the friendship, and the love that had been right in front of him.

"It has taken a long time to be able to confront the past, accept it and all the mistakes I've made. I've already lost William." She worried her hands once more as she inhaled a shaky breath. "I don't want to lose you, too. I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I desperately want one, my son." Her words were full of nervous hope.

A second chance. Wasn't that what life was about? Making mistakes and having the opportunity to fix them? His father had never spoken ill of Mother, in fact, had often made excuses for her saying that she needed to heal. Had it been his way of preparing Titus for this moment?

Snippets of conversations with his father stormed to the forefront of his mind, begging for attention, for understanding. Your mother needs time to heal... Never doubt how much your mother loves you… I believe time will tell a different story. It would take time to recover, to let go, and Titus didn't know if he was strong enough to go at it alone.

You're not alone. There's…. he shook that thought away, for now at least. For far too long, he'd let assumptions of the past dictate his course. First, he needed to start to make amends with his mother before he could think about the future. He nodded his head, afraid to speak, afraid of past wounds reopening.

"Thank you, Titus."

* * *

With her plan firm in her mind, Portia sat on the bed and waited. She'd packed what little funds she had, an extra change of clothes, her father's favorite book, and the sketches from her nephews into her traveling valise, knowing that she might never see the other items in her trunk again.

She'd decided that, at the first opportunity, hopefully at a crowded coaching inn, she would sneak away from Lord Webber, journey back to London, and ask Lady Swan for assistance. For a brief moment, she'd considered asking Lady Whitby, but because of all that had happened with Titus, Portia knew she had no other choice. She didn't know if this would work, but it was worth a try. There was no other person she could turn to.

Titus.

No.

She suspected he was angry with her over her plea to him. And what help could he offer her now? Even though he'd agreed to aid her, he had not provided her with a list of suitable gentlemen. He had not even been able to provide one gentleman's name. And after tonight, even if she managed to escape, she would be ruined.

No, Lady Swan was her only hope. Perhaps the influential lady could provide a reference so she could become a governess, preferably far from Town.

"Now, that's a good little sister," Judith said as she strolled into the room dressed in an elaborate costume that made her look far more regal than she really was. "You've finally done as you're told."

Portia would not give Judith the satisfaction of a response. She stood, grabbed her reticule and small traveling valise, then waved her hand toward the door, indicating she was ready to depart. If nothing else, she would be free from her four half-siblings and their children. A sudden pain struck her heart.

Albert and the twins.

She might never see them again. Hot tears stung the corner of her eyes at that realization. She sucked in her breath and blinked them away. She would find a way to see them, or at the very least discover a way to know if they were doing well. However, that was a task for another day.

Concentrate on the plan.

"Stop dilly-dallying," Judith ordered. "Lord Webber is waiting."

Before too long, Portia was ensconced in the baron's carriage, her single trunk strapped to the roof, and they were traveling out of London at a slow pace. She said a silent prayer, hoping there would be an opportunity to enact her escape plan.

* * *

By the time Titus's mother had departed, and he'd readied for the evening, he was already late. Starting to make an amends with the past took more time than he realized. He was still hurt by his mother's actions, but at the very least, they had an understanding. They'd agreed to take their time rebuilding their relationship. He suspected she wanted more, but that was all he could give at the moment.

For reasons Titus could not place, he was anxious to arrive at Aunt Adeline's residence. He'd forgone his costume, and instead, swiftly changed into evening attire. Soon his carriage was clipping along at a decent pace. He supposed that was one good thing about being late; everyone else had already arrived, and the crowds of arriving guests had already dissipated.

Once he arrived, he immediately searched out his aunt. He could not shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right this evening. He made his way to the grand ballroom, but no sooner had he entered than he was waylaid by Miss Oaks, Miss Baldwin, and their mothers.

"Oh, Lord Ravensworth, I thought you would never arrive," Lady Baldwin dramatically exclaimed. "You simply must?—"

"I simply must find my aunt," Titus interrupted in a firm tone, then stormed away from the undesirable group.

A few minutes later, Flora rushed to his side, panic filling her words. "Where have you been? Aunt Adeline must speak with you at once." She took his hand and pulled him through the ballroom, down the hall, toward the servants' stairs. "She's below stairs."

"Below stairs?"

What had happened?

Titus rushed down into the common area where his aunt was conversing with a young maid. "Aunt Adeline?"

"Oh, thank heavens you've arrived. Something dreadful has happened." The panic in Aunt Adeline's voice sent a ripple of fear down his spine. She was never one to be overcome with hysterics.

"Miss Lamont has been taken, my lord," the young maid standing beside his aunt said.

Taken?

Certainly, Titus was misunderstanding the situation. "What do you mean?"

The young woman took in a deep breath, then told her story at a rapid pace. "Lady Oaks arranged for Miss Lamont to marry Lord Webber. He took her away earlier this evening. I didn't know what to do. As soon as Lady Oaks and her horrible daughter left, I came here. Miss Lamont told me Lady Whitby was extremely kind to her, and since I accompanied her here when she came to tea, I thought—" She closed her lips, then a moment later, spoke again. "Please say you'll find her."

"Tell me everything you know."

By the time Titus departed Aunt Adeline's residence, he had a firm plan in place. Aunt Adeline had enlisted Lord Swan's assistance to see if Lord Webber and Portia were still in London, and Jagger was to head to the lord's estate to the south, while Titus would head north to Gretna Green. He suspected the elderly noble was anxious to claim his husbandly rights.

He had decided to go on horseback, and instructed his driver to follow and wait at The Bull and Last coaching inn for further instruction. He could think of nothing else but reaching Portia, and sending Lord Webber on his merry way alone.

Once clear of the city, he urged his horse into a full gallop. Although there was a full moon, the roads were not congested, and within a short time, he had covered a good distance. From what the young maid, Katie, had revealed, he supposed he should catch up to them soon.

Thirty agonizing minutes passed before he spotted Lord Webber's carriage lumbering along. It was clear that the conveyance was having problems with a wheel as it rocked from side to side. Now all he had to do was stop the carriage and rescue Portia.

This was, without a doubt, one of the worst nights of Portia's life. There had been no opportunity to escape, although she had thought about jumping from the moving carriage when Lord Webber fell asleep, but then had thought better of it. She didn't fancy breaking her neck. She'd hoped they'd stop for a break and she could make her escape, but that had yet to happen, and they were getting farther and farther from London.

She was contemplating another plan when, all of a sudden, the carriage came to an abrupt halt, waking the snoring lord.

"What… what happened? Are we there?—"

The door to the carriage flung open wide. Her heart quickened with the sight of Titus filling the doorway, looking more like a well-dressed highwayman than a lord of the realm. He was the last person she'd expected to rescue her.

"Titus?"

Everything happened so quickly that Portia had no time to think. Words were exchanged. One moment she was in the carriage, the next, Titus was hying her away on horseback. Before too long, they'd stopped at The Bull and Last, where they were escorted to a quiet, well-appointed room on the second floor.

Portia did not even have a moment to sort through her thoughts about what was happening when Titus reached into his coat and pulled out a folded sheaf of paper, although he didn't say a word.

"What's this?" she asked as she took the folded paper.

"I promised to help you find a suitable gentleman this season. This is the list." His face gave nothing away of his emotions.

Portia didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She'd been held prisoner in Judith's home for two days, informed she was to marry, forced into a carriage, then rescued, only to be pushed off to some name on a list.

"Are you mad? You come all this way?—"

"Aren't you going to look at it?" he interrupted with annoyance. But she should be the one annoyed, not him!

Anger rose up from within. "You rescued me from Lord Webber only to tell me you found?—"

"Just look at the paper," he said as he ran a hand through his already tousled hair.

She didn't care for the tone in his voice. She would look at the names he provided, then tell him to go to hell. Unfolding the paper, she looked down at the single name.

Titus.

Disbelief and shock, and an array of other emotions, surged through her body as she looked into his green eyes. "This… this is you?"

He stepped closer and took her hands within his. "I once suffered a broken heart. I am not willing to take that risk again."

Portia wanted to know—although at the same time part of her didn't—if he still had feelings for that woman. But she had to be clear. She would not play second fiddle to his memories. "Do… do you still love her?" She closed her eyes, bracing herself for his answer.

"I have loved her all my life, even when I thought she didn't want to see me."

Pain like she'd never felt pierced through her heart. Feeling dejected, she opened her eyes, pulled her hands from his, then started to step away.

Titus caught her hand. "It is you, Portia, always was you."

"Me?" she cried the single word with all the hope she felt in her heart.

Titus pulled her back and brought her within the folds of his embrace as he lowered his head, his lips brushing across hers before he took her mouth in a sensual kiss. Her hand went to the back of his neck, caressing his soft skin in gentle circles. A moment later, he pulled back and stared at her with realization. "It was you I kissed at the masquerade." It wasn't a question, but a statement, firm and clear.

She didn't know what to say, so she simply nodded.

"Why didn't you say something?"

The tender look in his eyes told her she could tell him what she was feeling. "I was too hurt and upset when you didn't recognize me and—" Suddenly she realized what he'd revealed. "When did I break your heart?"

A long sigh escaped his lips. "The day my father and I went to visit you at Judith's home."

"But I had no control over that. I didn't even know you'd come. How was that my fault?" she started to argue. How could she be held responsible for Judith's actions?

He silenced her tirade with his mouth, but then it wandered from hers, tracing the contour of her throat. Oh dear, but his lips did amazing things to her insides.

She felt more than heard the words. "Do you want to argue or move on to a more pleasurable diversion?" He did not give her the opportunity to respond, but took her mouth in another searing kiss that made her go weak at the knees.

He guided her through a seductive waltz, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as their clothes gracefully flitted to the floor with each swirl they took about the room. Soon, they were standing before each other, completely naked and out of breath.

"You are my siren, my angel, the temptress of my soul. But most importantly, you are my love, my life. It has always been you. Marry me, my Portia."

She saw the heartrending tenderness of his gaze, and there was no other place in the world she'd rather be than in his arms, loving and being loved by him. "Yes." She said the single word with all the love and joy she felt in her heart.

He took her into his arms and carried her to the bed, lying her down with a gentleness that took her breath away. He stretched out beside her, touching every inch of her body with firm, yet delicate fingers.

They took their time exploring and loving each other, their bodies fusing into one on a shared wave of ecstasy. Although there had been times when she'd allowed her imagination to dream of Titus in this way, she'd never believed it would ever happen, or be like this.

Sated and content, Titus rolled onto his back, bringing her to rest alongside him. She roamed her hand up his firm, muscular chest, relishing in the feel of his strength. This is where she was always meant to be, loving and being loved by her heart's desire.

"What are you thinking?" the words whispered from his mouth.

She raised up and looked into his lovely green eyes. Ever since she was a child, they'd reminded her of the leaves unfurling in early spring after a long cold winter.

She brushed a kiss across his lips as she whispered, "You are my spring after the wintry cold, and the love of my life."

He cupped her cheek in such a loving way that it made her heart thump, and then he spoke, and she could not contain the tears. "I have only ever loved you, only ever wanted to love you." He reclaimed her lips in a slow, thorough kiss, showing her just what she meant to him.

This is where she wanted to spend the rest of her life: loved and safe in Titus's arms.