Chapter 9

Portia was enjoying the quiet afternoon, curled up on the sofa with a book. It wasn't too often that Hilarie was indisposed with a real illness. She didn't wish harm on Hilarie, but it was pleasant to not have to listen to her commentary and constant complaints. Even Judith's countenance was much more subdued this afternoon, which was her wont when her favorite child had taken ill.

During the course of the season, Judith had used the excuse of "Hilarie is feeling under the weather" nearly half a dozen times to either leave an event early or not attend one. Portia could not help but wonder if it would have an adverse effect, and that rumors would spread indicating Hilarie had a weak constitution. That certainly would not bode well for her marital prospects, since a woman's main role in life was to produce healthy heirs.

Unfortunately, the peace was not to last.

"Put yourself to rights," Judith barked as she rushed about the room, straightening a couple of cushions before smoothing back several strands of hair.

Portia was about to ask what all the fuss was about when Russell announced they had a guest. "Lady Whitby and Miss Beaumont have arrived."

She could practically feel the glee vibrating off her relative at the announcement of their prestigious guests. It was no surprise to anyone really that Judith hoped for an extremely advantageous match for Hilarie, despite her daughter's inability to compete with this Season's crème de la crème.

"This is the opportunity I've been hoping for," Judith exclaimed with excitement.

A few moments later, their guests entered. Portia could not remember the last time when her half-sister had been this pleasant and happy. It was a sad commentary on her life.

"What an unexpected surprise, Lady Whitby, Miss Beaumont," Judith gushed. "Please have a seat while I ring for refreshments."

"That is too kind of you, but no need for refreshments. We only have a moment," the elegant countess said as she took a seat, her niece following suit. "I've just come from visiting Lady Swan. She's decided to host a last-minute dinner party this evening for those in her close circle, and I told her she simply must invite you, Lady Oaks, Miss Oaks, and Miss Lamont."

Judith's features sagged. "We appreciate the invitation, but my daughter has taken ill and I fear that I cannot leave her."

"I hope it is nothing too serious," Lady Whitby said with concern, as she placed a delicate hand to her chest.

"The doctor doesn't believe so, just a couple of days' rest will put her right." At the first sign of a sniffle, Judith—without fail—sent for medical assistance. And more often than not, Hilarie made a miraculous recovery when she got whatever it was she was after. This time, however, Hilarie's ailment appeared to be legitimate, complete with a stuffy nose and a slight megrim.

"Perhaps you would allow me to chaperone Miss Lamont?" Lady Whitby said to the surprise of Portia and clear dismay of Judith.

It was clear that Judith was trapped. If she declined Lady Whitby's offer, it would be rude and probably have a negative effect on Hilarie's prospects. But if she accepted, it would allow Portia to interact with those she herself was most desperate to be connected to. Portia waited as her half-sister mentally sorted through her options. It was quite amusing to watch her features shift as emotions played on her face.

Adeline was pleased with the turn of events. Although she did not wish ill upon Miss Oaks, it did make her mission much simpler. "Will you allow me to chaperone Miss Lamont?" she repeated.

Adeline watched Lady Oaks's face contort with a multitude of feelings, but in the end her desire to be connected with those of more esteem won. "It would be an honor to have you chaperone my dearest little sister."

If Adeline did not like the woman before, she certainly didn't care for her now with her condescending tone. She brushed off the woman's darkening mood and focused on the positive. Portia would be under her eye tonight, and she fully intended neglecting her duties as chaperone in order to allow her nephew and the woman she suspected that he'd fallen in love with to have some time alone together.

"I am so pleased that Miss Lamont will be joining us this evening," Adeline said.

"And perhaps, Lady Swan will consider Hilarie and me for her next event?" Lady Oaks's words poured from her lips with desperation.

Adeline was prepared to play along with the charade if it meant great success for her nephew. "I will relay your sentiments to Lady Swan." She turned to address Portia, who had been painfully silent through the whole visit. "We shall come at eight this evening." She only hoped Lady Oaks would not be too terrible towards Portia in the meantime.

A short time later, Adeline and Flora were ensconced in their carriage, preparing to enact the next phase of their scheme.

"Did you know Miss Oaks had taken ill?" her niece questioned.

"No, but I was most pleased by the news." She then quickly added, "Not that I wish her misfortune, but it is definitely to our advantage. Lady Swan was not too keen on adding Lady Oaks or her daughter to the guest list, especially considering her intimate dinner party has been planned for a couple of weeks."

"But you said?—"

"A little fib for a great cause."

Flora's laughter filled the carriage. "I have much to learn from you, Aunt Adeline."

"And I have much to teach you, my darling." All in good time.

* * *

Aunt Adeline had sent word that afternoon, not only reminding Titus to attend Lady Swan's gathering, but also to be prompt.

Titus did not know what his aunt was up to, but he definitely knew she was concocting some sort of scheme. When he strolled into Lady Swan's elegantly grand drawing room, nearly half an hour late, his suspicions were proved correct.

He'd barely taken two steps over the threshold when his aunt approached, with Flora following close behind. "So nice of you to join us, and on time, no less," Aunt Adeline said, her words dripping with sarcasm. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to disrupt my carefully laid plans."

"So, you're not even trying to hide the fact that you—and most likely Flora as well—are trying to waylay me?" He said as he eyed his cousin, who instantly blushed, then lowered her gaze.

He'd wanted to spend the evening searching for his mystery goddess, but his aunt had a way of inciting guilt with the most innocent sentence. Titus was more than frustrated that he'd still not been able to discover her identity. She'd known who he was, so why then hadn't she…

Perhaps she hadn't been as affected by the kiss as he?

No. He'd seen the desire in her blue eyes and felt it in her kiss.

But what is your intention once you find her?

That question had been plaguing him for weeks, and the answer still remained the same. He didn't quite know.

Did she have difficult relatives to contend with?

No. He was an earl. Any father would gladly welcome his title and wealth.

Perhaps she'd heard of his reputation?

No. He'd discontinued his previous lifestyle this Season on account of his cousin.

Aunt Adeline started to scold him under her breath, disrupting his thoughts. "As I have stated previously, no one is trying to waylay you, and I have been quite honest regarding my intentions. I thought a diversion was in order and invited Miss?—"

"Now that all our guests have arrived," Lady Swan started as she turned her gaze to Titus, putting him on the spot, then continuing, "Dinner will be served."

Titus supposed he would have to wait to see what his aunt was up to. He had more pressing concerns at the moment, namely whom he was partnered with this evening. He hoped it wasn't a starry-eyed girl who could only talk of the weather. That would only add to his ill-humor.

Aunt Adeline moved away to join Lord Holland, while Flora was paired with Mr. Lavender. Because of his late arrival, Titus did not know whom he was to be joined with until Portia strolled up to him wearing an orange concoction and an apologetic look.

Why was she always wearing ill-fitting clothes in the most undesirable colors?

"It seems we're partnered for dinner." Portia lowered her voice. "I suspect Lady Whitby had something to do with it."

"My aunt can be quite wily," Titus said with a chuckle. Still, it was a pleasant change to be paired with a friend instead of a simpering miss. A wave of calm washed over him, as he could think of no better dinner companion than Portia.

"I've suspected as much," she said with a giggle. "Still, I appreciate the reprieve from my relatives."

"You're here alone?"

Before she had the chance to respond, the guests were all lined up and preparing to stroll toward the dining hall. She looked about as if unsure of what to do next. Titus did not know how many dinner parties she'd attended, but supposed she was not used to this world or its occasionally bizarre customs.

The moment her hand rested on his proffered arm, a sense of comfort enveloped him. And then he looked down into her upturned face and an altogether different emotion coursed through his body. He could not help but wonder if her lips tasted as sweet as they looked.

Where had that thought come from?

Portia was his childhood friend. He'd never thought of her in that way. That's not true. He was supposed to aid her in finding a more suitable match than Lord Webber. He should not be thinking about her lips or what she would look like in a fashionable evening dress, or the sway of her hips or…

Stop that, he admonished himself.

It had been far too long since he'd been with a woman. Ever since the masquerade, he'd thought of no one but his masked goddess. Frustration stormed through his veins. He needed to discover her identity, and then all would be good.

After they'd been seated and the meal had begun, Titus began his questioning. The sooner he aided Portia, the sooner he could give his other quest his full attention.

"What sort of husband are looking for?" he asked.

Portia giggled softly. It was the same sound he remembered from their youth—soft, sweet, with just a hint of playfulness. "Straight to the point, I see."

"I believe you did say the situation was most dire." He then realized she hadn't responded to his earlier question regarding her family. "Were Lady Oaks and Miss Oaks not invited?" The words shot of his mouth before he could stop them. He was not one to inquire after the latest on dits, and truly did not care, but he was curious as to why her domineering half-sister was not present.

"They were, but Hilarie has taken ill, and Judith did not want to leave her." He could almost hear the relief in her voice at not having her relatives present. Not for the first time, he wondered just what she had endured through the years. "I was very much surprised when Lady Whitby offered to chaperone me."

"I see." Titus would bet his largest estate in the Peak District that his aunt had arranged everything this evening, including his being partnered with Portia for dinner.

Was his aunt attempting to play matchmaker? No, surely not, especially not after he'd made his stance on marriage clear. Perhaps Adeline knew of his agreement with Portia and wanted to aid her in finding a match—other than Lord Webber? That was a more plausible reason. He was certain of it. His aunt had a kind and generous heart.

"Back to my question?—"

"Ah yes, what sort of husband…" She thought for a moment, then replied, "Since time is of the essence, and sacrifices must be made, I?—"

Titus shook his head. He didn't want Portia to accept less than she deserved. She shouldn't have to, regardless of what her family dictated. She deserved so much more. "No sacrifices. What do you want?"

Their eyes locked and that foreign feeling bubbled up again. Damn, if his heart wasn't set on his mystery goddess, he would take a mistress tonight just to satisfy the lust clearly consuming him and clouding his mind.

"Love, intelligence, and kindness." Her response was simple, pure, just like her.

"What about title, wealth, or how handsome he should be?" All things most women of the ton were insistent upon, it would seem. It was certainly what his mother had been after. Why had she entered his thoughts again?

"A title will not keep me warm through the dark winter months. What is wealth if in the hands of a dim-witted man? Handsomeness is only on the surface. If he is a good man, a decent man, then he is the most handsome to me."

Titus could not fault her for wanting any of those qualities, and was not surprised by her response. Even when they were children, Portia had looked past outward appearances to the goodness within a person, but she was not a fool and would not be played. She knew her mind and was true to herself, but never at the sacrifice of others. Those were qualities that he'd always been drawn to. She was the opposite of so many women. Quite the opposite of most people in general.

"Does such a man exist?"

"Hmm, so it seems a sacrifice may be necessary," she said, then winked.

Laughter rumbled from within. "Perhaps not that drastic. I am reluctant to say so, but perhaps a compromise?"

Her mood turned sullen and her smile faded into a half-frown. "It seems all I do is compromise."

The pain of her words struck his heart. What had she endured over the past years? Guilt settled in his gut. In her darkest moment, he'd assumed the worst of her, only caring for his emotions and grief. That distant day when he and his father had tried to visit Portia came full force to the front of his mind.

"I don't believe she declined to see us," his father said as he stepped into their carriage.

Titus plopped down on the seat opposite his father. "What other excuse is there? She clearly is happy in her new life and doesn't want?—"

"My son," Father started in a firm yet gentle tone, "I think time will tell a different story. I've known Portia her entire life, and there is not a disingenuous bone in that sweet girl's body."

"I don't agree," Titus mumbled under his breath, unwilling to hear more. She was just like his mother.

If only his father's words had resonated with him then instead of his false opinions, which had built to the point of destruction.

"What happened at the Oaks's residence?" he blurted.

"I do not wish to discuss it." Her words were quiet, weighed down. "I need to concentrate on the task at hand. I?—"

Loud laughter rumbled from across the table, disrupting the moment.

A short time later, dinner concluded. The gentlemen had their brandy, and the women retreated to the music room, where the men would rejoin them shortly for the entertainment. Titus hoped to have a moment to talk with Portia again then. He wouldn't press the issue of the past, but hopefully, Portia would finally open up to him. It almost felt as if he was getting to know his best friend all over again.

He followed the men to the music room, where they joined their perspective parties. Only the area nearest the instruments was sufficiently lit, adding an air of mystery to the gathering. An abundance of hot house roses adorned the alcoves, creating fragrant retreats. He glanced about, searching for?—

"She's standing at the back of the room, near the corner," Flora whispered as she brushed past Titus, then joined their aunt amongst a sea of pink roses.

Instinctively, he knew whom Flora was referring to. He casually strolled toward the corner. None of the other guests seemed to take note of where he was heading. This wasn't the usual gossiping crowd. Quite the contrary, in fact. Lady Swan often hosted intimate dinner parties for a small circle of friends where good conversation was the order of the day, and there was a strict unspoken rule that nothing would be repeated to those not invited.

"Do you not care to sit?" he asked as he approached Portia, catching a hint of lavender that tickled his senses, almost begging a memory.

"You see, if I sit, there will be no one to hold up this wall." Although her words were meant to be amusing, they were laced with uncertainty. "Actually, I'm quite comfortable as a wallflower," she confessed.

"We must change that if I am to aid you in finding a husband."

The moment Portia had entered the music room, she'd been overcome with a mixture of joy and sadness. She was delighting in her time with Titus, but knew it would not last. He was offering friendship in the name of aiding her to find a husband. She also wondered if he ever thought about the kiss they'd shared—not that he knew it was her—but every time he was near, remembrances of that perfect embrace warmed her insides. She wanted to know if it had affected him as much as it had her, but there was no way of discovering that answer without revealing it was her, and so her question would go forever unanswered.

But what if he was as moved by the kiss as her? And what if he knew it was her? Did he feel what she was feeling, the love that surged…

Oh dear, she'd fallen in love with Titus.

You've been in love with Titus practically your whole life, her heart reminded her. Ever since he'd held your hand so gingerly while crossing the stream.

It had been stormy for nearly three weeks, and when the sun finally broke through the clouds, the young adolescents could not wait to escape the confines of the house and explore the drenched landscape.

They'd crossed that stream dozens of times, but with all the rain, the normally gently flowing brook had turned into a fierce torrent. Intent on keeping up with Titus, Portia had underestimated the force, and became stuck on a large rock, unable to cross the remainder of the way on her own, too scared to turn back.

"Stay where you are," Titus called to her.

She watched as he hopped gracefully from one boulder to the next until he was one stone away. He stretched out his hand, and without hesitation or fear that she would fall into the water, she'd reached for it, knowing he would keep her out of harm's way.

Moments later, they were safely on the other side. The only thing lost was her heart.

"I'll always keep you safe, my Portia."

So lost in her thoughts, she hadn't realized he'd found her in her corner until he spoke. "Do you not care to sit?"

She didn't truly belong here, amongst the illustriously titled and well-connected guests. She belonged in the quiet of the country, surrounded by books and maps. She wondered if Titus still desired the same?

She tried her hand at humor, hopefully deflecting what she was truly feeling. "You see, if I sit, there will be no one to hold up this wall. Actually, I'm quite comfortable as a wallflower."

"We must change that if I am to aid you in finding a husband."

And then, curiosity got the better of her. "Do you ever intend to marry?"

Silence enveloped them for countless seconds until the music began. Titus shifted closer to her, so close she could feel his heat. In that moment, she wanted to reach up and kiss his lips once more, to feel his body pressed against hers, to experience the pure desire of being held by him, and never be let go.

"No." And just like that, the spell was broken. Titus had clearly not been affected by the kiss they'd shared and did not think of her the way she thought of him. He was a rake through and through, nothing more.

A dull pain started to fill her body. They continued to stand in silence, and before the music ended, he slipped from the room. She didn't think it possible, but by the time he departed, her entire being ached, weighed down by grief. She felt as if another chapter of their friendship had just ended.

"Such a lovely evening," one of the guests announced as they left the room.

"I agree. The music was superb," another guest commented.

The chatter swirled about her in snatched sentences until finally she spied Flora approaching. Stamping down her distress, she pasted on a smile, and attempted to not let any of her true emotions show.

The rest of the evening passed slowly. Titus had disappeared, and she felt more alone and out of place than ever before.

By the time she'd returned to her temporary home, all she wanted to do was retire, but just like so many things in her life, her wants were ignored.

"You must tell me everything that occurred this evening," Judith demanded the moment she set foot into the house. "And do not omit one detail."

Portia recounted the evening, and of course, left out quite a few details. She was not a gossip, and not about to disclose any part of her conversation with Titus.

"Was Lord Ravensworth in attendance?"

"Yes," was all she replied.

"Well?" the single word hung in the air. "What did he say? Who else was there?"

What was she to say? She couldn't very well reveal that she'd fallen in love with her friend, that he still didn't know that it was she that he'd kissed, or that she'd asked him to aid her in finding a more suitable husband.

"He was amiable to all the guests and then departed during the musical entertainment." All of which was true.

"And Lord Webber was not invited?"

Not quite knowing what her relative was up to, Portia chose her words carefully. "If he was, I did not see him."

"Hmm." Judith rubbed her hands together. "I think I may have an idea."

Portia did not like the gleam in her half-sister's eye. For reasons she could not place, she suspected her situation had just changed, and not for the better.