Page 42 of What a Courtesan Wants
“Don’t do this,” she choked out. “I’m begging you.”
Aubrey had no choice but to release her as they joined the others for their final change and end of the cotillion, his head spinning and his heart pounding as he struggled for composure. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and take the kiss she’d been denying him from the beginning. He wanted to kiss her and kiss her until she broke and told him the truth she tried to deny. She couldn’t take it back now that she’d alluded to it, and Aubrey wanted those three sweet words too badly to let the matter drop.
Lucinda finished the dance with stiff steps, her head erect and her eyes unfocused as if she were elsewhere. As Elizabeth ended the music with a flourish, Lucinda snatched her hand away as if she’d been burned. He felt the separation like a knife wound to the chest, hands shaking with the urge to pull her back to him.
“I have to go,” she said, the words nearly imperceptible. He only detected them because he was watching her so closely, and saw her mouth form the words. “I can’t …”
She whirled to flee, skirts in hand. At Hugh and Benedict’s quizzical glances, he merely shook his head and looked away. His friends knew him too well and would be able to see what he could no longer hide.
“Is everything all right?” Elizabeth asked, her concerned gaze fixed on the open door and Lucinda’s retreating back.
Aubrey fumbled for an excuse that would be acceptable and avoid creating suspicion among his guests. This night was too important to ruin with a scene.
“Lady Bowery has become overheated and has stepped out for a breath of air. I will go ensure she’s all right.”
Before anyone could volunteer to come along, Aubrey spun on his heel and pursued. He waited until he had closed the doors behind him before breaking into a run, catching Lucinda up in the front hall.
“My things, please,” she said to a footman, voice icy with imperious command. “And I’d be grateful if you would send for my carriage and driver.”
“Right away, my lady.”
As the footman scurried off, Aubrey shot a glance at the second servant standing watch at the door, giving them both curious looks. He was a temporary hire—one Aubrey didn’t want gossiping about what went on in his home.
“Leave us.”
The servant blinked as if taken aback, but seemed to decide it was best to obey.
Lucinda kept her back to him and her hands folded before her, her spine drawn up as straight as a rod. Aubrey circled to face her, arms folded over his chest.
“Lucy, enough of this. What you said … if you meant it …”
“How could I have meant it?” she exploded, the words spewing from her as if through a pressurized geyser. “I didn’t even know what I was saying before the words just came tumbling out.”
“Often, the things we say without thinking are the truest things that can come out of our mouths.”
She gave an adamant shake of her head, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment and taking a shaky breath. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. So, explain it to me, Lucy.”
Her eyes were filled with tears as she looked at him, the sadness creeping back into them. He hated the sight of it after watching her have such a good time. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he simply let her leave? In the morning, she would feel better about it, and he would have had time to convince himself that it had been nothing. They would meet in the bedroom as they always did, and no words would be required other than his commands and her acquiescence.
But he knew very well what was wrong with him, and he couldn’t back down without putting an end to it one way or another.
When she offered no response, he released an exasperated grunt, running a hand over his hair. “Very well. If you will not speak, then I will. Would you like to hear all the things I love about you?”
A tear slipped down her cheek, then another, her lips parting as if in shock. “Aubrey …”
“I love your eyes. They’re quite the most beautiful shade of blue I’ve ever seen. I love your mouth, even though you won’t let me kiss you. I dream about it, you know … all the time. I have imagined kissing you so many times and in so many ways, I do believe that if you ever let me touch my lips to yours I’ll go mad for wanting to try them all at once.”
“Aubrey,” she tried again, shaking her head as if urging him to stop.
But he couldn’t stop, not now. Desperation made him bold, and he was tired of being held at arm’s length and pretending he was content with the way things were.
“I love the way your nose wrinkles when you laugh, though you don’t do that enough for my liking. I wish you would laugh more often. I love the way you chew your thumbnail when you’re deep in thought, and the way you smile in your sleep as if you’re dreaming of something that makes you happy.”
“I didn’t know I smiled in my sleep,” she said, her voice thick with surprise that he would even notice such a thing.
“You do,” he murmured, reaching out to swipe a stray tear off her cheek. “You also toss and turn and snatch the blankets, but I never mind because I often grow overheated at night. And that leads me to something else. I love—”
