Page 62 of In a Rake's Embrace
Her fierce pride stirred inside her chest. “Friends allow friends to repay generosity.”
“Is it important to you to repay me?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
He leaned in, his gaze steady and affectionate. “Very well. Repay me with loaves of bread whenever I want.”
“Thomas?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think we will remain friends after the auction? How likely will we ever cross each other’s paths again?”
He faltered into remarkable stillness, his expression turning almost cold and indifferent.
“Do not answer it,” she said, her chest tightening.
He nodded once, reaching for another slice of bread. His gaze on her face felt too piercing, yet she could not read what he thought. Agatha felt excessively silly for asking the question, even as the ache inside her chest deepened.
They sat in comfortable silence, children’s laughter drifting through the window. Agatha’s heart twisted with gratitude and that thumping ache.
“Agatha,” he murmured, his gaze softening, “If you do not object, I will visit you again here.”
The words settled over her like a warm blanket. The idea was laughable: a man of consequence like Thomas returning to this modest cottage to call upon one like her. It stung, though, knowing that his life would always remain worlds apart from hers. Even now, he and the physician stayed at the village inn, their small home too cramped to accommodate such esteemed guests.
“Everyone will be in an uproar over the delay in the auction,” he said, his tone even, controlled. “To capitalize on it, we should start our return journey to London today. I’ll arrange for Dr. Preston to stay another week to ensure little Carson fully recovers.”
Agatha reached across the table, her fingers grazing his hand. To her surprise, he didn’t pull away. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Thomas lowered his gaze to their joined hands, a look of contemplation crossing his face before he lifted his eyes to hers. His expression held an intensity that made her pulse race.
“Would you consider being my mistress?”
The question landed like a blow, so unexpected and shocking that she jerked her hand back, her heart pounding furiously.
“What … what would that mean?” she stammered, a painful warmth filling her cheeks.
“It would mean,” he said steadily, his gaze unwavering, “that you wouldn’t need to auction yourself. I would provide a comfortable home, with servants to tend to youandan allowance for your needs. I’d take you to London, Paris, Venice … wherever you want. And,” he added, his voice softening with the slightest hint of hunger, “I would take you to my bed whenever we both wanted. I’d try not to get you with child.”
A maelstrom of emotions crashed over Agatha, an unfamiliar ache tightening her chest as she struggled to control her expression. She hadn’t realized how foolishly she’d hoped for something more, even as she knew better. It was foolish, she knew, to feel hurt. A man of his stature could never offer her anything beyond a fleeting arrangement. Blinking against the sting of tears, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
“I gather there’s still a chance one might fall pregnant even if attempts are made to prevent it,” she said, her voice steady though her heart felt anything but.
“Yes,” he replied, his tone equally controlled.
“So, if I bore your child … they would be a bastard.”
His expression grew more remote. “I would see to your care and the child’s. You’d want for nothing.”
The weight of his offer, so practical and devoid of genuine commitment, settled heavily on her. She withdrew her hands, lifting her chin as she met his eyes. “I could never accept such a position,” she said quietly.
A flicker of disappointment crossed his face before he masked it with a jaded smile. “I thought as much,” he murmured. “Very well. I’ll draw up a bank draft—”
“No,” she interrupted, her voice firmer than she felt. “You don’t owe me anything. And I won’t accept your charity, as I could never repay it.”
They sat in silence, and though the intimacy of the moment shattered,she held his gaze. Though he would never be hers, she would hold fast to her dignity and the choices she made, guiding her life on her own terms.
“Very well,” he said.
