Page 28 of What a Courtesan Wants
A heavy finger fell over her lips, silencing her. Lucinda glanced up to find Aubrey staring at her, his expression grave yet still somehow gently reassuring.
“If you want to talk about Magnus, then you should, and I will listen.”
His finger fell away, yet she was still left momentarily speechless. It took her a moment to remember where she’d left off with her story. Clearing her throat, she fumbled for words and pressed on.
“He asked me if I were attending the ball that evening, to which I replied that I was but surely the Gaines family hadn’t invited such a boor into their midst. Again, he laughed and said that they’d had a terrible lapse in judgment and asked him to attend, so of course he would be there. He asked me if I were old enough yet to waltz, and whether I would save a dance for him. I told him I would never do such a thing, though if I was allowed to waltz, I would never want to do so with him. Magnus seemed to find this all so amusing, as if he actually enjoyed standing there and letting me berate him. He tipped his hat to me then, and said he looked forward to seeing me at the ball before taking his leave.
“I was puzzled over the encounter for what remained of the day, wondering who he was and why he would stop and speak to me the way he had. I wouldn’t admit it at the time, but I was quite enamored with him, and couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at me—as if I were awomaninstead of a girl. He was the first person to truly make me feel like one. I didn’t understand the signs of desire and was so flustered and agitated, wondering why I’d reacted to him that way. My confusion and thoughts of him plagued me all the way through dinner and preparation for the ball. Imagine my surprise when we arrived, only to be introduced to Lord Magnus Bowery, Earl of Lanhope. I nearly fainted on the spot.”
“That is the only thing that would make this story even more entertaining.”
“I am sorry to disappoint you, but I stayed on my feet and I managed a terrible curtsy, which earned me a scathing look from Mama. When he asked for my dance card so he could sign for the first waltz, how could I deny him? With my parents looking on, I had no choice but to accept.”
“And were you as much a hellion during the waltz as you were in that field?”
“Absolutely not. I was entirely too stunned at first. I managed to ask him why he hadn’t revealed his identity that afternoon, and he said it was simply because he’d wanted a chance to make my acquaintance without the uncomfortable reminder of his status getting in the way. I would never have spoken to him that way had I known, and I told him so. To which he replied, ‘then I am all the gladder you didn’t know, for I wouldn’t have been so thoroughly bewitched by you.’”
“Your husband had quite a way with words.”
“By the end of the dance I was half in love with him. He called upon me at home the next day, and each day during his visit with his family. Our courtship did not last long, but it became clear to me that something monumental was happening. When it became time for him to depart for London, I realized that it was love. I worried he would leave and forget all about me, that I would forever languish for loving him only for him to never return the sentiment. I had no need to fret, of course. Before he left, he promised to return, and in the days leading up to his departure there were long morning meetings between him and my father—during which I later discovered they were negotiating over a marriage contract. Magnus was willing to settle a grand fortune on my family in exchange for being allowed my hand in marriage—though he hardly needed to bother. My parents were so thrilled I’d caught the eye of an earl that all talk of the marriage between myself and my cousin had ceased. A few short months after he left Essex, he returned to officially ask me to wed him.”
“I can admire a man who knows what he wants and sets out to claim it,” Aubrey remarked.
“He would not allow anyone to convince him that marrying me wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had. His children hated me from the start and were appalled at the idea of him wedding a woman as young as his own daughter. But, he loved me, and he would have me, and I could never refuse him—even knowing I hadn’t the first notion of how to be a countess. Those first years in London were some of the most difficult in my life, but Magnus made it bearable. He hired a tutor to school me in all manners of etiquette and deportment. I learned how to properly address members of the peerage, to which I now belonged much to my amazement.”
“You seem to have adapted well. When I met you, you struck me as the consummate lady, as if you’d been born to be a countess. I see that in you still.”
Lucinda let out a dry laugh. “I only became this way with years of practice and after many embarrassing blunders. The other ladies gossiped about me when my back was turned, and thought the same of me as Magnus’s children—that I was an upstart country girl who had used my physical charms to turn the head of a wealthy peer to earn myself status.”
Aubrey’s gaze slid down her body. “Your charms certainly are tempting, but you are more than that, Lucy, and I think Magnus could see it, too.”
She opened her mouth, but then paused, realizing that he’d used the shortened version of her name. It had sounded surprisingly intimate falling from his lips.
“I apologize,” he blurted, realizing what he’d done. “Do you not like to be called Lucy?”
“No, it isn’t that. It’s only … well, I haven’t been called Lucy since I was a girl. I like it.”
They traded smiles, growing silent for a long moment. Lucinda’s gaze fell to his mouth, and she was struck with the sudden urge to know what it would feel like against hers. She noticed the slight cupid’s bow shaping his upper lip for the first time, and the perfect curve of the lower. He would kiss her just as he did everything else: with skill and passion, and a calculated sort of ruthlessness that would leave no part of her unclaimed. As much as she wanted it, a niggle of fear held her back, reminding her that there were still boundaries between them that shouldn’t be crossed. She enjoyed his company in her bed as much as she was coming to enjoy him out of it, but an easy camaraderie and a fierce passion were all they could have out of such an arrangement. To strive for more than that would prove a dangerous mistake.
“I am glad you had Magnus to guide and protect you,” Aubrey remarked suddenly, breaking the silence and the moment of intense heat and longing which had flared between them. “Just as I had Rowland.”
“I could never have survived it without him. When I came home from a soirée in tears because I’d said something stupid, or greeted someone with the wrong form of address, he would simply hold me and tell me that I was the perfect countess, but even more than that I was the perfect wife. That I was his proved enough to make me fit in his eyes. When I discovered I was with child for the first time, I took comfort in knowing my sons and daughters would have all the privileges and advantages I never did. They would grow up knowing all the things I’d tried to learn in a few short years, and become be gentlemen and ladies who could stand head and shoulders with the children of those who disdained me.”
Lucinda glanced down to find she’d pressed a hand to her belly in an unconscious motion, and her heart sank at the reminder that this particular dream could never be. No seed that had taken root within her womb had ever lived to see the light of day, and now she was incapable of creating life in the way so many other women did with little effort. Magnus had never resented that she couldn’t give him children, and while Lucinda had made her peace with it, she could also never forget that it was the one thing she’d wanted to give him and failed trying.
Aubrey’s hand covered hers but he said nothing, his fingers stroking in an affectionate gesture while his gaze radiated empathy and understanding. Lucinda choked back tears and tamped down the need to draw closer to him for succor. No matter how he insisted he was here for more than just pleasure, there was a limit to how much of her past and her pain she was willing to lay at his feet. This pain would belong to her and her alone.
“Anyway, I have belonged as well as I can,” she said, quickly changing the subject. “In the years since I lost him, I have refused my mother’s pleas to return to Essex with her. It isn’t that I despise her company, or that I do not miss her. I only know that I don’t belong there, and perhaps never did. My place is here, even though my choice has left me achingly alone.”
It was the first time she’d admitted to anyone the depth of her isolation. In the first months after Magnus’s death, Lucinda had craved solitude, wanting to be left alone to nurse her broken heart. But, as time had passed her by, she’d begun to crave the things she’d lost—companionship, conversation, and yes, even a warm body in her bed and a pair of strong arms enfolding her.
Aubrey seemed to sense this in the uncanny way he seemed to sense most things, and inched closer, reaching out with one arm to pull her into him. She went without a fight, relief stealing over her as he held her close, his fingers stroking down the length of her drying braid. His lips touched the top of her head and he laid one of his legs over both of hers, snaring her completely in his embrace. The heat of his body seeped into her, his woodsy scent overwhelming her senses, and the coarse scratch of his chest hairs tickled her cheek. It was the most connected she had felt to someone in years, and rather than run from it, she threw herself into it, deciding there was no harm in allowing herself to feel protected and cherished for a little while. She’d forgotten how sweet it could be, though it did occur to her that she might never have felt this way with David or anyone else. It was Aubrey, some essential thing about him that made her feel at peace even the midst of her turbulent and crumbled life.
“You aren’t alone anymore,” he murmured, nuzzling the crown of her head and kissing her again, a sweet brush of his lips. “I’m here.”
Chapter 8
“News out of Devon reports that The Honourable Mr. R will return to London soon with his newly wedded wife, and is said to have several portrait commissions already lined up—proof positive that his fame may not be so short-lived after all. Mrs. R is said to be positively glowing with marital bliss. We await the arrival of a Baby R with bated breath. Perhaps the lady is alreadyenceinte. If any establishments wish to jot this one down in a betting book, I wager there will be a baby sometime within the next year.”
