Page 34 of A Courtesan Countess Worth the Scandal
Nora snorted. “No, I always wanted to be a courtesan.” She glanced up at him, evidently teasing. “I jest. When I was younger, I’m not sure what I wanted to do for employment. There weren’t many choices, though my Ma was always insistent that I never ended up on the seam, a seamstress. She worked there for most of her life and the toil of it almost killed her, especially when paired with tending to a blind baby.”
“I am sorry.” He suddenly felt guilty, for she had been right when she told him he had spoken like someone who had never had to want for money in his life. Now, she was a holding a mirror up to him, and showing him his privilege.
She gave him a gentle squeeze around the waist, making him wince slightly as the grip pushed into his bruises. “That’s why I began all of this. A gentleman made me an offer, told me he wanted to be my ‘keeper,’ and I accepted because I couldn’t listen to my Mother’s sobbing anymore, or my Sister’s wails because her stomach was empty.”
“A ‘keeper’? What is that?” His gut clenched at hearing the tale of her woes. It made his own torments pale in comparison.
She laughed. “A man who ‘keeps’ a woman who is not his wife. A loyal prostitute, for his use, and his alone.” Her laughter turned sad. “Unfortunately, I didn’t understand that, either. I thought he loved me. I thought I would be his wife, and then… well, I suppose he clarified things for me. He said he was going to cast me out, and I said I would tell everyone what he had done. My silence on the matter bought me a house for my family, and a parting fee. Since then, I’ve made all my income on my own.”
“That is atrocious!” Liam gasped. “He tricked you?”
“He did, most cruelly. But my naivety is somewhat to blame, too,” she answered. “I should’ve known he did not see a girl like me as his future wife.”
Liam gestured toward the satchel that Nora had discarded by the fire. “Is he within those pages?”
“Never.” Her breath hitched. “As per the terms of our agreement, I can’t speak of him or his deeds, or I’ll lose the house that offers so much security. But, truthfully, he was worse than Sir Arnold in so many ways.”
Instinctively, Liam put his arms around Nora and held her tighter, resting his chin upon her head. Affection did not come easily to him—it never had, thanks to his parents’ behavior toward him as a child—but it felt curiously easy with her, in that moment. He supposed it was because her pain was greater than his, and he felt a deep-rooted compulsion to do something to comfort her.
Do not forget, that is what caused your own grief in the first place—
When he had encountered Élodie in a small village outside Amiens, her story had been similar to that of Nora. He had gone there with his uncle, the summer after graduating from Cambridge, in order to see wondrous sites of historical heritage, and to generally enjoy themselves.
He had been doing just that, until he saw Élodie limping into the village one day. Injured and emaciated, he had immediately gone to her aid, and had insisted on bringing her into their accommodations until she was entirely healed. He had spent every hour of every day nursing her back to health, until she was ready to tell him what had happened to her.
Of course, she never fully told him. She said only that she had been where the fighting was, and it had not ended well for her. She explained that she had escaped and this was where she had planned to die, for there had been no strength left in her. Upon hearing that, Liam had decided, then and there, that he would marry her and take her away from France, and all the ghosts of her past. He had not realized that they would follow him across the Channel, and becomehisghosts, too.
“Have I depressed you?” Nora broke through his private reverie.
He peered down at her, struck by the unusual darkness in her blue eyes. “It made me pensive, that is all. I have had so much in my life to be grateful for, and yet… there are things that have slipped through my fingers, no matter how hard I tried to keep hold of them.”
“Like what?”
He sighed heavily. “My Mother and Father… among others.”
“Are they no longer living?” Her eyebrows knitted together in sorrow.
He shook his head. “I cannot speak for my Mother, but my Father is gone. Although, they had both left my life long before then. My Mother ran away with her lover, and my Father died of the heartbreak. Though I think he rather died of the shame.” He searched her face for a sign to be quiet, but she simply nodded as if to say,“Go on—”
“After my Father died, I was sent to live with my Aunt and Uncle. My Uncle always cared for me as though I was his own, but my Aunt loathed the very sight of me,” he continued. “I believe it was her idea to have me sent to Eton, though I ended up being glad of that. I met my two fondest friends there, who have been more like family to me than anyone, except my Uncle.”
Nora nuzzled into him. “My Father was the same as your Mother. Up and left with some other woman. At least, that’s my guess. My Ma won’t ever tell me the proper story, but a woman knows. It’s her intuition.”
“Does a man have intuition?” Liam was genuinely curious, given that he had missed every indication that his wife was an unhinged deviant.
Nora chuckled. “I’ve always suspected that a man’s pride blinds him from his intuition. We live in a society where a woman’s infidelity or premarital encounters brings about ruination, disgrace, and ostracization. For men, they are championed, or congratulated in private, or given a mild scolding. That builds this sense of invulnerability to ever being the ones who will be betrayed. Many men simply don’t think it’s possible that their wife could ever do that.”
“Some do,” Liam murmured.
She tilted her head up at him, their mouths perilously close for a moment, until he drew his neck back. “That is very true, but some may not realize it until it is too late and their wife has already fled with her lover.”
Would you have left me, in the end, Élodie? You said you would not, but perhaps you would have done exactly as my Mother did.
“Are you married?” Nora nestled back into his chest.
His throat constricted. “No… no, I am not.”
“Good. I shall offer you some advice—never marry if you do not want your heart broken. That is the safest way to protect it,” she said.
