Page 79 of A Proposition for the Comte
He began to laugh because here was a joy he had never felt in a woman’s bed before. Gratitude and contentment and surprise.
‘When did you learn?’
‘At boarding school. My father found an institute for me that was well regarded and singularly academic. I can hold a conversation in Spanish and German, as well.’
‘That does not surprise me.’
This time the laughter was her own.
‘Why not?’
‘Because you are unlike any other female I have ever known and I mean that as a compliment. Your intellect is a part of that.’
‘Harland hated it that a woman could think.’
‘Because he could not himself?’
She was still, her eyes misty and sad. ‘I wish you had seen me then, before...’ She stopped. ‘Before I lost my way in life.’
‘Have you found it again?’
Sitting up, she kissed his mouth in a fashion that made his blood run hot.
‘I have.’
‘Good. Then fight for your truths, Violet, and don’t let anyone tell you different.’
He kissed the tip of her nose and stood. ‘Get back into bed and I will go down to find us something to eat.’
She could not remember feeling so happy in all her years. Perhaps at school she’d had some moments of things seeming easy and interesting, as if there was a whole world out there just waiting for discovery.
But now Amaryllis and the children were safe, she was in a home well-guarded and secure, and Aurelian was beside her.
She wanted time to stop right now, to freeze into this second.
She wanted him to think that she was honourable and wise and clever and all the other things she had tried her hardest to become.
I want you more than I want life itself.
How had he meant that?
Want in the sense of carnal desire or want in the way of a yearning and permanent need?
Celeste Shayborne had said something in the same vein when she had spoken to her quietly after her husband and Aurelian had needed to find something in the library.
‘The Comte is a man who has had many others depending on him in his life. He has always been a chameleon and a warrior as well as a dweller, too, in the darker places of the world, but he needs to settle down now, to be at peace with all that he has been and done. I think you of all people will understand that for you remind me of myself.’
Violet could not in all the world imagine any similarities. Celeste Shayborne had worked in intelligence in Paris but here in England she looked to be the perfect lady. The dingy secrets of her past with Harland were nothing to be proud of but there was a second as Celeste had spoken that Violet had felt a vivid and startling connection. It was as if her shadows were known and understood.
She shook her head. Such fancy and whims were like castles in Spain.
Aurelian was back with a platter of food even as she thought this, wine was there, too, a red she did not recognise and to one side lay a small bowl of marzipan sweets.
‘From the Yuletide,’ he explained when he saw her looking.
To have a man bring her food in bed was a glorious treat and she sat up fully as he laid down a napkin under the large pottery plate.
‘I brought my chef from Paris when I came the first time and he liked the countryside here so much that he stayed.’
