A Fallen Woman by Kate Harper

Author:Kate Harper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, love, regency, scandal, regret
Publisher: Kate Harper

Chapter Eight

Nash stepped out onto the snow covered terrace, slipping through a side door so as not to draw attention to himself. He did not want company. He especially did not want the company of a minx like Violet Thursby who seemed keen to dog his footsteps the better to impress upon him how very suitable she was for whatever position he might think to place her in; wife or lover. Violet was both unsubtle enough and inexperienced enough to suggest she might be able to fulfill either.

Nash was not in the least bit interested. How could he be when he was still dealing with the revelation that he was still uncompromisingly in love with Rachel Sheridan? That the revelation had taken place in the middle of a dance floor had been both inconvenient and disconcerting but he supposed such revelations did not come to suit the individual. In fact, they should come as bolts from the blue; he reflected grimly, the better to herald the profound nature of the revelation. He supposed that the knowledge had been edging upwards from the murky depths of his being since he had first set eyes on her after arriving at Thorncroft, only waiting for the opportunity to astonish him.

Yesterday morning he would have said astonish and dismay. Now, he was not so sure.

Somehow, gazing into Rachel’s midnight blue eyes, the rightness of holding her in his arms was so obvious that there was no room for dismay. It was as if the intervening years had been stripped away and he was once again the callow young fool who had so willingly given his heart to a golden girl. Despite the fact that he thought he had retrieved it some time ago, it was achingly apparent he had been wrong.

He still loved Rachel. He would love her until the day he died.

Which left him in the most damnable quandary.

Moving across to the balustrade, he brushed the heaped snow into the garden bed below and sat, indifferent to the wetting his jacket would undoubtedly be subject to. Damp material was the least of his troubles.

How long, he wondered, would he have been able to delude himself that he no longer cared for the girl if he had stayed away? Years? Forever? Perhaps he would have been all right if he had not seen her again, convinced that he was entirely whole when in reality, a little part of him had been missing for a long time. He knew differently now, of course. Rachel was that part of him. Having fallen in love with her, he could never truly love another woman.

Loving a woman had not been high on the list of Nash’s priorities. Loving their bodies and mutually satisfying physical needs was an entirely different matter. He had occasionally wondered – but with no great interest – why he felt so little connection to the females he bedded, but had simply put it down to a male’s natural ability to disconnect and move on. The hunter’s prerogative.

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