“I’m not sure what I should do now.”
“What would you like to do?”
“I’d like to vanish. That was my plan when we were in London and I still want that.”
“No, you don’t. If I had to describe your condition, I’d say you’re madly in love with him. Why would you disappear just when your affair is heating up?”
“He’ll engage himself to Lady Penny and wed her very soon.”
“I’m certain he will,” Fish slayed her by concurring. “His kind never behaves any other way.”
“I can’t stay on the fringe of his world and watch him proceed. I didn’t realize how intimate fornication would be.”
“I tried my best to explain it.”
“Evidently, you weren’t adept at clarifying because I am thoroughly bewildered.”
“Why? Did he hurt you? Did he scare you?”
“No. It was very romantic.”
“Then why this anguish? In my view, you’re being very silly.”
“It was very . . . special to me, and I’m terribly afraid it won’t have been special to him at all. It would kill me to discover that it wasn’t.”
Fish shrugged. “I’ve told you about men and their drives. It’s just physical conduct for them, and you have to separate your feelings from the bodily antics he showed you. Otherwise, your yearning will consume you.”
“I can’t muster your callous attitude about it, Fish.”
“Yes, I see that.”
Fish had never been a maternal female. She was pragmatic and practical, and she never offered sympathy when Libby could desperately use some. In that, she’d always been very much like Uncle Harry.
With Harry, if Libby had voiced the most paltry complaint, he’d ordered her to buck up and cease her whining. He’d remind her she had a great life and she ought to be more thankful for it. His heartless disposition had pushed her to develop a very hard shell, but deep down, she was a gentle soul, and emotional issues wounded her.
Fish didn’t possess the traits necessary for this type of discussion, but if Libby didn’t talk to her, who would she talk to? It wasn’t as if she had a dozen confidantes waiting in the wings. Her immoral act was sinful—and illegal too. She could be arrested and prosecuted for her night of debauchery.
“Could you simply commiserate?” she asked. “Could you be sorry for me?”
“Why would I be sorry? You philandered with a rich, handsome scoundrel. It’s not the end of the world.”
“It feels like it might be.”
“Well, it’s not. Don’t read so much into it. Just . . . relax.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Has Lord Barrett returned to Roland with you?”
“No. I snuck out at dawn and came back by myself. I’ve been agonizing all day.”
“About what? About Lord Barrett?”
“Yes, I can’t bear to ever see him again, but I can’t bear to not see him again either. I’m a complete mess.”
Fish tsked with disgust. “I’m so surprised to find you in this agitated state. Aren’t you tougher than this?”
“Usually, but I never had anything like this happen to me before.”
“You can’t let him have such a potent effect on you.”
There was a liquor tray on the table, and Fish stood and filled a glass with brandy. She handed it to Libby.
“Drink that,” Fish said. When Libby wrinkled her nose, Fish added, “Drink it all. You can’t force yourself to calm down, so the liquor will do it for you.”
Libby downed the contents, shuddering at the strong taste, but it worked quickly. She felt warmer and more in control.
“Better?” Fish asked.
“A little.”
“Then are we finished? If so, I’m busy and need to leave.”
Libby sighed. She’d never had anyone to empathize over any situation, and Fish had definitely never been her mother. Why would she have anticipated a different result?
“What has you so preoccupied?” Libby asked. “Are you hoping to jump back into Lord Roland’s bed?”
Fish grinned. “Yes—if I can catch him in it—but I don’t believe he’s still there. I think he’s down in the front parlor, pretending he’s enjoying the party.”
“What if his sister-in-law stumbles on your mischief? Hasn’t Miss Pendleton sunk her claws into him? I doubt she’d be keen to discover you’d horned in on her territory.”
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“It might wind up hurting you though, and I’m betting she’d be a vicious adversary.”
“I’m not worried about it.”
“Perhaps you should be.”
Fish rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Are we finished, Libby? I won’t be scolded by you. I’m happy about what’s occurred with Charlie.”
“Charlie! Is that what you call him? Oh, my lord.”
“He’s very fond of me, so if you simply intend to complain and chastise, then I can’t listen.”
Libby gazed at her old friend, and she was sad for her. Nothing good could come from her infatuation. It would lead to grief in the end, but under Lord Roland’s shower of attention, she’d forgotten what she’d learned about men. She was eager to forge ahead and damn the consequences.
“I can’t bear to quarrel,” Libby said.
“Neither can I.”
“But I have to tell you a story.”
“Fine, but would you get on with it? From the minute I walked in, you’ve been wringing your hands like a trembling virgin, but you’re not a virgin any longer, and your new condition won’t kill you. You have to regroup so you can figure out how to deal with Lord Barrett. I wish I could help you with your dilemma, but you’re not ready to hear the advice I’d supply.”
“Which is what?”
“You should grab hold of him and have as much fun as you can—for as long as you can. It’s what I’d choose.”
“I want him to fall in love with me. It’s the only way I could keep on with him.”
Fish finally displayed some sympathy. “He won’t ever love you, Libby. You have to lower your standards about it. He seems besotted though, and you have to persuade yourself that you can be satisfied with that level of attachment.”
Libby could just picture that sort of arrangement. He’d rent a house for her in London, and she’d see him a few times a month when he traveled to town on
