Page 41 of Taming of the Rake
Nodding, she braced a hand against her belly, noting that David’s eyes followed the gesture. “I am, thank you. You needn’t have come all this way, though I do appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
David shifted from foot to foot, glancing to Powell. For the first time in a long while, Regina began to think of the footman’s constant presence as intrusive. Her courtesan seemed to want to say more, but was reticent because they weren’t alone.
When she raised her eyebrows in question, David gave his head a slight shake. “Right. I … well, would you think it odd of me to confess that I wanted to see you for myself? I have worried about you all day.”
Warmth sparked in Regina’s chest at his words, and she closed the distance between them. She stood near enough to make out the lighter striations of blue at the center of his irises, to smell his enticing scent.
“That is very sweet of you.”
He made an exaggerated grimace of shame. “Egad, woman, I do have a reputation to uphold, you know.”
Regina giggled. “It is too late, you’ve revealed yourself already. I shall find it quite difficult to go on thinking of you as a debauched rake.”
“I’ll never be able to show my face in London again. The Society of Rakes will revoke my membership.”
“Is there a such thing as a society of rakes?”
David shrugged. “I would not be surprised if there were. Now, if I discover them, I won’t be allowed to join.”
Her shoulders quivered with laughter she couldn’t contain. Suddenly, the disappointment of her empty womb didn’t seem quite so devastating, because it meant more of this—more time with her courtesan. She couldn’t take David to bed for another day to two, yet found she did not want him to leave. He’d come all this way just to see to her welfare after all.
“You have just arrived around the time I typically take an afternoon walk. Would you care to join me?”
Surprise flickered in his gazed, but he quickly recovered. “Of course.”
That settled, Regina sent for a hat and coat. Within minutes they were setting off with Powell trailing them from a substantial distance—far enough that he could see them but not overhear their conversation.
They conversed about nothing in particular at first, and Regina clung to his arm and enjoyed the pleasant weather. The air still held the chill of January, but a near-cloudless sky allowed the sun to shine down on them, stealing the cold’s biting edge.
They took the footpath snaking over the picturesque grounds of the estate, before arriving at a tree she often sat under to read. David insisted they linger as their position gave them the best view of the manicured lawns and the distant garden.
She helped him out of his coat, and he laid it on the ground for her to sit on before lowering himself beside her. Powell wandered, remaining within sight but pointedly giving them his back.
Certain they wouldn’t be seen by anyone else, she removed bonnet and set it aside, tilting her face up toward the sunlight with a happy sigh.
“This place,” David remarked after a while. “It’s beautiful.”
“I thought so, too, at first.”
“Christ, you must think me such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s all right. I was going to say, I had forgotten that over time. I spent so much time hidden away inside. These past few months have been a revelation on many fronts. This placeisbeautiful, and it is mine.” A sudden thought struck her, and she gave him a flirtatious smile. “And … it is no more than I deserve.”
David returned her smile and reached up to stroke a stray lock of hair back from her face. “Indeed, it is. But, let’s talk about something else. Tell me something happy. A memory from before … him.”
Regina mimicked David’s posture, encouraged by the casual way he leaned back on his elbows as if not caring about soiling his sleeves. “When I was a little girl, my mother would take me for long walks. Our home wasn’t nearly this grand and our land wasn’t much, but it was ours. There was this charming little meadow where we would go to pick wildflowers. Mother would put them in my hair and tell me I looked like a sprite. We made daisy chains and picnicked and … I miss that. I missher. After—”
David clicked his tongue, cutting off her ramblings. “No talk of after. That’s a nice memory. Perhaps you can make memories like that someday with …”
Regina tensed when he fell silent, following his unspoken words to their conclusion. Perhaps she could make memories like that someday … with her child. The child he would give her.
A well of longing opened within her, one she knew would someday be filled by a babe that did not yet exist. And yet, there was something else, too. Something she didn’t want to examine too closely.
David seemed lost in thought, his gaze locked on some distant point.
“It is your turn,” she blurted, desperate to change the subject. “To tell me a happy memory.”
The corner of his mouth ticked with a smile that never fully formed, and he continued staring out at the horizon as he spoke. “My father told the most outrageous bedtime stories. Made them all up as he went along, and never told a tale the same way twice. A pirate ship might be lured to its doom by sirens the first time, but on another night it would be dragged to the depths by a kraken.”
