Page 43 of What a Courtesan Wants
“Aubrey, stop. You couldn’t possibly—”
“Love you? But I do. I love you, and I’m tired of thinking it but not saying it, feeling it but being afraid to let it grow beyond the awareness of it. And I think you feel something for me too, something that isn’t lust or simple friendship. I think you might be coming to love me, and you won’t let yourself.”
She sobbed, forgetting good manners and swiping at her damp face with her gloved hand. “Why are you doing this? Why can’t you be content with the way things are?”
He reached out to take her face in his hands and drew her close, her tears running into his palms. “Because you made me see that contentment isn’t good enough. Not for me, and not for you. We could be more than this, I know we could. And I could make you happy if you’d let me. Please, just let me.”
For a long moment, she remained silent, staring at him with a thousand emotions warring in her eyes. Aubrey felt as if he stood on the edge of a cliff waiting for her to either push him to his death, or pull him back from the brink and save him. He’d just snatched his own heart out of his chest and placed it in her palms, having no notion whether she would choose to treasure it or crush it.
He saw the subtle changes hinting at her inevitable retreat—her eyes growing shuttered, her mouth pinching tight, her chin trembling for a moment before she clenched her jaw to still it.
“I am sorry if I led you to believe things could be different,” she said, her voice the only thing betraying her emotion, coming out hoarse and tortured. “But what we are now is all we can ever be. I cannot give you what you want, Aubrey. I’m sorry.”
The footman returned with her things then, as if Lucinda had willed him to appear. Quickly bundling herself in a fur-lined cloak and muff, she gave him a final look over her shoulder.
“Please give my regrets to Elizabeth.”
Aubrey watched her go with his heart in this throat and his shaking hands clenched into fists. He resisted every instinctual urge telling him to run after Lucinda and force her to face the truth. She had lied to him just now, whether to protect her own heart or Magnus’s memory, he could not know. But Aubrey refused to believe that he’d been alone in his feelings all this time, that her slip of the tongue had been as meaningless as she’d claimed.
But, it seemed what he believed did not matter when Lucinda seemed determined to keep him at arm’s length. No matter what he did, she would never let him get any closer.
“What was that?”
Aubrey turned to find Benedict at his side, his gaze both probing and curious. Annoyance made him bristle as he saw that his friend knew very well what he’d just witnessed.
“A lover’s quarrel?” Benedict prodded.
“Ben, leave it.”
The other man raised his blond eyebrows and pressed on, seemingly unruffled by the gruff warning in Aubrey’s voice. “Because, if it was what I think it was, I’d say you’ve gotten yourself into quite the tangle. She’s a client, Aubrey.”
“You and your fucking bottom line,” he snapped, his frazzled nerves getting the best of him. “Bugger off, you overbearing lout! Haven’t you made enough money off me already?”
Benedict flinched as if he’d been slapped, a flicker of hurt appearing on his face before it was gone. His expression became hardened and implacable once more. He cleared his throat.
“I suppose you’re going after her.”
Anger swelled to overwhelm the despair Lucinda had left him with. Yet again he’d given someone the best of him, and just like before he had been rejected.
“Not a chance,” he ground out, striding for the door. “I’m going for a walk. Tell the guests I’ll return shortly. Tell them Lucinda is ill and I’m seeing her home.”
Benedict did nothing to stop him, and for that Aubrey was grateful. He felt rubbed raw, and couldn’t be held responsible for his actions just now. His chest burned as he thundered out onto the front steps, the cold night air filling his lungs. But, he couldn’t go back inside for a coat, and he certainly couldn’t trust himself to return to the party without his guests being able to see the truth of what must be written all over his face.
He spied Lucinda’s carriage turning the corner, and took the opposite direction, his body fairly vibrating with the need to be in motion.
Damn that woman for doing this to him. He’d been cold for so long, going through the motions and doing what he must to provide for his family and keep his business afloat. Aubrey had been content to do it all for Elizabeth, telling himself he hadn’t needed anyone else. Lucinda had made him want things he’d long ago decided weren’t for him, such as companionship and love, a future in which his life intertwined with someone else’s. She’d made him want it and hope for it, then just as quickly snatched it away.
As he lowered his head against the cold and watched his breath turn to white mist on the air, Aubrey found himself at a loss. What had once seemed so clear had now become a hopeless muddle. What the devil was he to do now?
Chapter 12
“The Dowager Countess of L has been seen more frequently about Town, and quite notably continues to be escorted about by the black draper, Mr. D. One would think that after landing herself an earl the first time, she might aim a bit higher in her search for her second husband, but alas, it simply goes to show that one can polish a plump country goose all one wishes, but it will not make her a swan.”
-The London Gossip, 9 October1819
Lucinda lay draped over the settee in her drawing room, head pounding and chest aching from the outpouring of grief that had overwhelmed her the moment she’d arrived home. First, she had trudged to her room, where she begged Mary to hurry and get her out of the blue silk gown. When she gazed down at the frock, she suddenly hated it. Where before she had thought of it as stunning, the memory of Aubrey standing in his shop, displaying the silk with his beautiful hands, was too painful to bear. Hot tears had streamed down her face as she’d fought to get free of her stays, and she’d been unable to keep her emotions in check. When her maid had inquired after her welfare, Lucinda had banished the girl from her chambers, in no condition to give voice to the sadness, fear, confusion, and elation tearing her apart.
She could hardly make sense of it all.
