Page 37 of What a Courtesan Wants
“To the utter shock of those of thebeau mondestill occupying London this late in the year, a certain lady finally came out of mourning last evening. The Dowager Countess of L ended two years of deep mourning, appearing at the King’s Theatre in a decadent evening gown of violet silk. More shocking than her sudden resurgence into society was the man she attended the opera with—none other than the negro linen-draper, Mr. D, a pretentious social climber who has managed to latch onto many influential people of the ton. By attaching himself to the wealthy widow, has he finally gained a foothold into the world of the peerage?”
-The London Gossip, 22 September1819
Aubrey leaned against the doorframe of the drawing room overlooking the bustling street, parted drapes allowing in the light of the morning sun. He felt more relaxed than he’d expected, silently observing Lucinda and Elizabeth as they shared tea and pored over fabric swatches. A soft smile played over his lips as he watched them laugh and talk as if they were old friends. Lucinda looked younger than her years, dressed in a day gown of soft mauve, a few curls falling free of her chignon to frame her face. Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she discussed gowns, paying calls, and dinner parties with her new sponsor.
To think, a little over a month ago he would have been appalled at the very thought of bringing a keeper into his home and allowing her to mingle with his family. But, this had none of the seedy or indiscreet connotations he’d first ascribed to such a notion, and Lucinda looked well situated amongst the tasteful decor of his home with his niece for company.
His Elizabeth and his Lucy, sharing tea and laughing together as if they’d been doing it for years.
Your Lucy? When did you begin thinking of her that way?
Sometime around their first outing to the theater, he supposed. Something had happened between them that night, something poignant and frightening. It had been like a fissure opening in a dam, and it had only widened over time, allowing tender emotions and deeper intimacy to flourish between them. In the weeks that followed, he spent as much time with her out of bed as he did in it. Most of their outings and meetings involved Elizabeth, to whom he’d given an allowance to add to her growing wardrobe and trousseau. Lucinda guided her in selecting the perfect accoutrements to her new gowns, even purchasing some things herself. She appeared before him each day in a different color—pinks, blues, greens, yellows. Like a spring-blooming flower, she carried light and vibrancy with her everywhere she went, and if he’d thought her beautiful before, Aubrey had been unprepared for what the sight of her out of widow’s weeds would do to him.
The new clothes announced to the world that she was out of mourning, opening herself up to the possibilities of a new future. And Aubrey could not help but feel as if they were speaking to him as well—telling him that there might be more beyond a simple arrangement if Lucinda could bring herself to love him.
Did hewanther to love him?
At some point, she had lodged her way into the crevices of his broken heart and begun pulling them together. Thinking back to his botched engagement didn’t hurt nearly as much as it once had, for he was coming to realize that what was blossoming between he and Lucy ran far deeper than what he’d had with Philippa.
But, he still saw the fear in her eyes when he began prodding too much, getting too close to tearing down the last of her defenses. He sensed that the last barrier standing between them might just be insurmountable, and if he tried knocking it down he might just disturb what had been built over the last several weeks.
Wasn’t it better for him to be content with what they shared for the time being? He’d never been so fulfilled by his past arrangements, and he would be happy to remain Lucinda’s for as long as she wanted him. But, what then? When she was ready to be done with him, would Aubrey be able to let her go?
Christ, I’m losing my mind.
“I suppose this household ought to prepare itself for a new missus,” Mrs. Baines murmured, appearing at his side as if from thin air.
Startled, he gazed down at the old woman, who never ceased to amaze him with how easily she could skulk about on silent feet. Despite her corpulent frame, she moved as swiftly and silently as an assassin when she wished to.
“Who, Lucy?” he asked, furrowing his brow.
Mrs. Baines gave him a knowing look. “So, it’sLucynow, is it?”
Aubrey cursed himself for a fool. As far as anyone in his household knew, Lucinda was only an acquaintance who had offered to sponsor Elizabeth due to a connection through Benedict. That was all he wanted any of them to know.
“We’ve become friends of a sort,” he hedged. “She has been good to Elizabeth. She is planning a dinner party next month, after Lizzie’s birthday and coming out. We will attend and let Lady Bowery make the proper introductions to the sorts of people who can make a difference in the kind of man she marries.”
“Hmm,” Mrs. Baines murmured, narrowing her eyes at him. “Seems like she’s been good toyou,too.”
“I’ve no idea what you mean,” he said, waving her off.
Mrs. Baines chuckled, the boisterous sound drawing the attention of the two women in the morning room. Nudging his ribs with her elbow, Mrs. Baines then turned to depart for her morning walk—which she would take alone with Elizabeth occupied.
“Play daft all you want,” she whispered. “Just know I’ve noticed you sneaking about to meet with her, coming home smelling like lavender and humming to yourself when you think I can’t hear. I see what’s happening here better than you do.”
Aubrey watched the old woman walk away with a sinking feeling in his gut, because he understood what was happening more than he let on. He was falling in love with a woman who gave every indication that she didn’t intend to love him back.
Damn it all to hell.
“Uncle Aubrey, you simply must hear Lady Bowery’s plans for the dinner party!” Elizabeth called out from deep inside the room. “It’s going to be a marvelous time!”
Pasting a smile onto his face, he stepped into the room, making a beeline toward the sofa where the two women shifted to make room for him. Lucinda’s questioning gaze told him she noticed his strained demeanor, so he gave her a reassuring smile and forced himself to relax. The next few weeks would be all about Elizabeth, and Aubrey would throw himself into the planning of her coming out with Lucinda’s help. He could not allow himself to think beyond that.
“Oh, look … a letter from Mother,”Lucinda murmured, flashing an amused smile at Magnus’s portrait as she sat at her writing desk to open the newly arrived missive. “Let’s see what news there is from Essex.”
Lucinda hadn’t written to her mother since just before deciding to begin her arrangement with Aubrey, having been too busy enjoying her time with him and helping plan Elizabeth’s coming out to think of it. Despite living in the country, her mother hung onto every bit of gossip she overheard, and such talk had often involved Lucinda once she’d become a countess. Now that she was officially out of mourning and making the social rounds again, the gossip rags had been making mention of her—and, of course noting that a certain linen-draper had been acting as her escort. Weeks had passed since their night at the theater—plenty of time for word to have reached her mother’s ear.
“She’s glad I am finally out of mourning, as I look abominable in black and hues of gray, while bombazine does nothing for myplumpfigure. Yes, she actually wrote plump … it’s right here.”
