Page 51 of What a Courtesan Wants
“I suppose he told you about his broken engagement and how it hurt him. For years after that, I watched him grow cold. He was never cruel to the women he bedded—he does not have that in him. But he was detached, always keeping them at a distance. It is a practice I well understand, one that protects men like us from the pain that has molded us like fire forges sand into glass. But after he met you, I saw the subtle changes; he was opening himself up again. And I didn’t like it, because I knew he’d only be hurt. Your arrangement made it a possibility from the beginning, but your own grief and indecision made it a certainty.”
She reached out to run her fingers along the back of Aubrey’s hand, spreading her fingers so she could touch each of his knuckles. His little finger twitched, but he remained otherwise unresponsive.
“I love him,” she whispered, glancing up to look Benedict in the eye. “I’ve been a fool to not realize it sooner … but I do love him. If he’ll have me, I will never leave him again. Perhaps that means we must talk about what this means for our contract.”
“Later,” Benedict said with a labored groan, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “We will have that conversation during the hours in which I like to conduct business. For now, we will speak as two people who both care about him. I have no delusions about what will happen once Aubrey realizes that he’s won you, and it is something he and I will have to discuss when the time is right. For now, all I can do is ask you not to hurt him again. I do like you, Lucinda, and if you are to be part of Aubrey’s life, we’ll be seeing quite a lot of each other. I would hate for us to be at odds.”
She gave him a tentative smile. “You may rest easy. I cannot promise he will not become cross with me from time to time … but I would never intentionally do him harm. You have no reason to believe me, but I’ll prove myself to you as well as him.”
They fell silent after that, Benedict eventually dozing off with his neck craned at what looked like an uncomfortable angle, soft snores issuing from his nose.
Leaning forward until she could lay her head on the mattress, her gaze turned to Aubrey, Lucinda closed her eyes. Exhaustion overwhelmed her, and there was still so much work to be done. Ensuring the man she loved understood the depth of her feelings would be the easiest part of it. But she had to prepare to finally move on with her life, and as painful and difficult as that would be, Lucinda could avoid it no longer. The time had come to reach out and take what she wanted most … and that meant letting go of the things she’d been clinging to for two long years.
The firelight glinted off the gold of her wedding ring, still nestled on the third finger of her left hand—the mark of another man’s possession of her, the symbol of a marriage that had ended on the day death parted them. She no longer needed it as a reminder of what they had shared, and in truth she never had. The important things were locked away inside herself.
Her throat constricted and her eyes stung but, resolved, she took hold of the ring with the fingers of her right hand. Squeezing her eyes shut, she slowly pulled it free.
Curling her fist around the metal, still warm from its closeness with her skin, she released a shaky exhale, a hot tear leaking from the corner of one eye.
“Good-bye, Magnus,” she whispered.
Chapter 14
“Apparently, there was quite a to-do in the home of the Dowager Countess of L—a dinner party with guests including only the few people of goodtonwho will associate with her. And, the most stunning announcement was made …”
-The London Gossip, 24 October 1819
Aubrey awakened to a dull throb in his head and an ache in his ribs. His mouth was painfully dry, making his tongue feel thick and swollen, and his stomach turned and twisted with hunger. Opening his eyes, he then snapped them closed again when the bright light of early afternoon seemed to burn all the way to the back of his skull.
Where was he?
The last thing he remembered was standing outside Rowland-Drake waiting for a hack to happen by, and then …Lucy. She’d come flying at him through the rain like some unearthly dream, water plastering her clothes to her body. He had tried to steel himself against her, something that had grown harder with each passing day. The sight of her had made his walls crumble into dust, leaving him as open and vulnerable to her as he’d ever been. But, there had been no reason to fear, because she hadn’t come to twist the dagger embedded in his heart. She’d come to soothe his torment and finally offer him the thing she’d held out of his reach for so long.
As he drifted back toward unconsciousness, he remembered—the cold pelt of rain juxtaposed to the hot press of her plush body, a moment in time suspended in euphoria, a soul-stirring kiss.
But then, there had been something else. A shout of warning, a carriage turning too fast and careening around the corner toward them. There had only been seconds to react, and pushing Lucinda out of the way had been his first reflex. There hadn’t been time for him to do anything before an explosive pain slammed into his side, throwing him to the ground. He’d skidded, bumped his head, then descended into muffled darkness. Lucinda … where had she gone?
“Lucy!” he cried out, coming upright and opening his eyes—which proved to be a terrible mistake.
Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he fell back against the pillows while clamping his lips shut against the urge to retch.
“Easy,” said Benedict’s voice from his side. “You took quite a blow to the head, and the doctor says you’ll be dizzy for a bit. Slowly … that’s it.”
Aubrey took his time now, opening his eyes and letting Benedict slip an arm under his shoulders to prop him up with more pillows. His friend looked like hell in rumpled clothes that weren’t his own and hair that stood on end from the scrape of nervous fingers.
“Where is Lucy?” he asked, a cursory inspection of his surroundings revealing that he was in her bedchamber. “Is she all right?”
Benedict waved a dismissive hand. “She’s fine, you are the one who was injured. The woman turned into quite a little harridan over you, you know. Screamed and railed at me, my driver and footman, the doctor. Wouldn’t rest until she’d been assured a hundred times that you wouldn’t die.”
Aubrey smiled at that, though he felt torn knowing she’d cared enough to act that way, but hating that she’d been so afraid. The woman had already been forced to endure the death of one man. He would hate to put her through that a again but would put her own safety over his every time.
“How did you …”
“I came to retrieve you for our night at the theater, remember?” Benedict replied. “I arrived just in time to find you unconscious and bleeding in the street. I must now insist that you kindly refrain from doing that again. Once was enough for me, thank you.”
Pressing a gentle hand to the back of his head, he winced at the feel of the bandages and the freshly stitched wound they concealed.
“It was enough for me as well. But I feel fine aside from a headache and aching ribs. You needn’t worry that you’ll have to bury me anytime soon.”
