In Need of a Noble Bride - Chapter 3

Acting swiftly, Rafael used his hold on Willette’s elbow to quickly escort her into his coach, and, once inside, he wrapped an arm around her, then sat there as tiny sobs shook her body and her tears dampened his shirt as she cried on his shoulder. He said nothing, just softly patted her upper arm. Her sadness entered his very soul, and he silently vowed to settle the score with whatever no-account fellow had caused her such sorrow.

Willette was the one woman he’d ever imagined tethering himself to for all of eternity, but he knew it was never to be. He’d thought about her many times during the past few months, and had considered searching for her in London, but had known it would be futile. She had other goals for her life and they didn’t include marrying a man who would one day become the Viscount Westerly. He’d never heard anyone sing like her. As soon as she’d told him that her goal was to sing on stage at the opera, he’d had no doubt that she would accomplish that, and more.

Her performance at Turnbill that evening they had met had captivated him. It had felt as if she’d been singing only for him, and afterwards, they’d spent hours together. By the end of that night, he had drawn his conclusions about what he was looking for in a wife.

And he knew he couldn’t have the only one he wanted.

While the upper class took great pride in owning boxed seats at theatres, attending performances, and proclaiming to personally know the singers and entertainers, the profession itself was associated with a level of scandal that was not socially acceptable. It was ridiculous. As if scandal didn’t run wild amongst the upper class. The queen’s eldest son ensured that with his many affairs.

The idea of dragging Willette into that vicious world to face their social criticism was enough to gut Rafael. At the same time, keeping the rest of the world from being carried away by her singing talents would be sin if there ever was one.

As if Willette knew he was thinking about her—which she most likely did, considering he was holding her close to his side—she lifted her head, looked at him.

Even red-rimmed, her faded blue eyes were the prettiest he’d ever seen, and her nose, being a rosy shade of pink, looked all the more adorable. And her lips…

Rafael had to agree with the stirring deep inside him. A woman couldn’t look more kissable than she did.

Sitting up all the way, she wiped the remnants of tears off her cheeks. ‘Forgive me, Mr Williams. You must think me a ninny. Weeping and bawling so.’

Watching her face for any expression change, he said, ‘Not at all. I have that effect on women all the time.’