“It is no longer what I want.” She moved toward the stairs. “We should hurry. The day is getting away from us. We’ll never reach Chester before dark if we don’t leave soon.”
She stood by the stairs and waited for him.
Sirius could sense the conversation was done and followed her.
Courting Pia would not be easy, but then it never had been.
∫ ∫ ∫
2 1
* * *
His face was mangled. His body was covered in boils. Open sores covered his hands. Smaller bumps cluttered over the rest of his body. No space was left unmarred by the dark marks.
Ginter’s face was worse. His nose was gone.
Pia hadn’t seen him in many weeks when he’d arrived home as he had. Barely able to walk and coughing up blood, he’d demanded that she bed him. If he were to die, she would die with him. It had been his verdict, and her only saving grace had been his physical weakness.
She’d locked herself in her room and had wept as he’d shouted for the servants to open the door.
His features, his words would haunt her forever. As her husband, he’d have had every right to bed her. He’d have killed her if he could.
His mistress had written Pia on Ginter’s behalf just a fortnight before his return. The woman had claimed there had been a grand party, but that Ginter was not feeling well enough to return home.
Two weeks later, Pia had begun to believe she’d never see him again.
She’d learned to smile in that short amount of time.
She’d let her guard down and had begun to do the things she’d once enjoyed, like painting pottery.
Then he’d returned. His monstrous appearance had matched what was inside of him.
He’d banged on her door until he’d fainted and then Pia had called for a footman to go and get a doctor.
Deliriously, he’d blamed Pia for his demise. He’d wanted the doctor to tell the constable that. He’d wanted her dead.
He’d died a few hours later and the doctor, who happened to be a friend of her aunt Melody, had promised that no one would know the truth of Ginter’s sickness. Otherwise, people would forever think Pia infected as well.
Even as a poor widow, Pia had never forsaken her freedom. As Sirius had said, there was so much suffering in the world that happiness had to exist, and Pia was certain she was experiencing it. She was happy, or at least content, and it would have to be enough because she would not marry.
Sirius had the lantern on the carriage. He sat sideways and was reading. He’d offered her a book, but she’d refused. Her mind was far too occupied for her to even pretend to read.
So instead, she watched Sirius from under her lashes and tried to figure out what she would do about him.
She should likely leave. Gillian was happy. She didn’t need Pia around. Pia could return to London. Certainly, Aunt Melody could find something for her to do.
Sirius lifted his head and then turned to her. With a finger holding his place in his book, he asked, “If Adam were here, would you wed him?” He glared. “Never mind. The answer is clear. The question was doltish at best.”
“And what do you imagine my answer to be?” she asked.
“You’d marry him. You loved him.” His tone said he was annoyed.
“I don’t know if I would marry him, Sirius,” Pia confessed. “I have asked myself the same question before and I don’t know.”
“You would,” Sirius said. “If I were Adam, you would have welcomed my courtship.”
She stared at him, but when she found herself looking for Adam in his face, she turned away. “As I said, I don’t know. In the end, I couldn’t trust Adam either.”
Sirius turned his body to her.
She leaned back as he leaned closer.
“What do you mean Adam couldn’t be trusted? You’ve been treating his memory as though he were a god. Now, even he falls short of your dream husband?”
She swallowed. “I don’t think you understand. I don’t dream of a husband, Sirius. I do not want one.”
“What did Ginter do? I know about the mistress. What else?”
She shook her head. “I won’t say.”
“Why not Adam?” Sirius asked. “After everything you both went through and shared. You loved him.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “We went through much together. He knew everything about me. He knew about my family. He knew I had no one but after a simple misunderstanding, he abandoned me.” She hated being left. Everyone left her. Even Aunt Melody had left her for a time.
“A simple misunderstanding?” Sirius asked. “You pushed him, and he hit his head. I could have died that night.”
“What?”
“Adam,” he corrected. “Adam could have died that night.” He looked away.
Pia’s head began to ache. She pressed her fingers to her temple. She was glad she wasn’t the only one who got Sirius and Adam mixed up, but his words didn’t help matters. “He didn’t come back. He didn’t even let me explain myself. So, do you know what that means?” She put her fingers down. “He didn’t love me.”
“Not so. He loved you.”
“I won’t believe it. I refuse. He left.”
Sirius lowered his voice. “Pia, he had to leave. You know that.”
“He promised to come back.”
“He believed you’d rejected him.”
With her arms outstretched, she said, “But I didn’t. I loved him.” She dropped her arms.
Sirius remained close as he continued his study of her. “If he could do it all again—”
“He can’t. He’s dead. You can’t speak for him.” She glowered at him. “You can’t speak for the dead. It is not your place.”
He pressed his lips together and growled before he pulled away. “Very well, I shall only speak for myself then. I want you and you want me.”
“We’ve only known each other for a matter of days.”
“Have they not been some of the wildest days of your life?”
She stared at him. “You mean between forcing me into your carriage, into your clothes, and then having your hands…”
His slow grin set her heart racing.
She forced herself not to look away. “You don’t know what I feel.”
He lifted a brow. “Don’t make me prove you wrong in this very carriage.”
She lowered her gaze and took a breath, but it failed to cool the spark of arousal. After what Ginter had done to her, she didn’t understand her longing for the man across the carriage from her.
That was what upset her, her growing need for him when she’d never needed another man before. “I do… desire you, but I don’t need you, my lord.” She looked at him. “I learned to never need a man. Not my father nor Ginter, and eventually, I learned not to need Adam either, but it took time.
“Over the years, I stopped seeing him in every boy who dared to step foot on my father’s estate. I stopped rushing to my room to see if a letter had been left for me. It took time, but I learned to enjoy my fond memories of the boy who had once been mine with the understanding that the man he became did not belong to me.”
Sirius closed his eyes. She heard a strange noise and saw his hand crushing the book. “Pia, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault. I have fond memories of him, and I clung to them, because except for a few good times with my grandmother and aunt, Adam defined my happiness. He was everything good in my life.” She placed a hand on Sirius’ knee and didn’t speak until their eyes met. “He took my dreams to the grave with him, Sirius. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you want.”
∫ ∫ ∫
2 2
* * *
She could and she would. Sirius would simply have to find a way to get her to see him as a safe bet and convince her to give him a chance.
A voice in his head told him that lying was not the way. He needed to tell her the truth, yet she’d already said she couldn’t trust Adam. Knowing he was Ad
am would no longer aid his fight for her hand.
It was hard to know what to do. His truth didn’t only affect him but everyone under his care. If the wrong person found out the truth, Gillian, her girls, Adalina, Babbette, and Georgiana would all be in terrible trouble, their lives ruined forever.
He covered her hand with his own. “Very well. You shall have your heart’s desire.”
“I do hope we can be friends.” She smiled.
Sirius felt his heart crumble inside his chest. He was sure if his emotions had a face it would be bruised black and blue by now.
“Friendship it is,” he said.
She pulled her hand away and straightened. “Excellent. Now, perhaps you could tell me more about the military?”
“It is not something I can discuss. I’m sorry. It is best you pretend that I never brought it up.” He placed a finger over his lips and grinned.
She returned his smile and placed a finger over her own lips before taking it away. “I’ll never say a word to anyone about it. Thank you for telling me.”
He nodded and returned to the sanctuary of his book. How was he supposed to pretend to be nothing more than this woman’s friend?
∫ ∫ ∫
2 3
* * *
Pia pressed lightly on the pedal to turn the wheel, gliding over the clay that spun just underneath her fingertips. Her vase grew, yielding to her hands in a way that few things would. If only life was as simple as clay.
“This was a wonderful idea.” Gillian sat beside her at another wheel. They were down in the basement of Sirius’ manor. Pia, Gillian, and Georgiana had taken the girls for a walk through the property and not far from the stables, Pia had seen a kiln and known exactly how she wished to spend the rest of the week.
Gillian had directed a footman to go and buy the supplies they would need and at night, when the house was asleep, Pia had slipped into the kitchen and mixed together what she knew would produce the best porcelain.
She’d written her aunt all about it. She and Melody had been exchanging letters since Pia’s arrival. She knew her aunt would be delighted to know what she was about at present.
A day later, Pia, Gillian, and Georgiana were at the wheels and today Adalina, Babbette, and Gillian’s daughters Mercy, Maisy, and Daisy painted designs on the clay pots and bowls that had already been formed.
“I’d never have thought this activity so soothing,” Gillian said. “You said your aunt taught you how to do this?”
Pia nodded. She dipped her hand into a jar of water and brought it back to the clay on her wheel. With small strokes, she worked the clay higher.
It had actually been her aunt’s lover, Lord Balam, who’d taught her how to use the wheel.
For many years, the English didn’t know how to make the coveted Chinese hard-paste. Their efforts ended with mixtures that were neither as strong or as white as the Asian paste. But just over a hundred years ago, a French Jesuit revealed the secrets in a book, making porcelain available to all.
Georgiana sighed on Pia’s other side. She was working on the bottom of her bowl, making its stand round like a shallow pond. Leaning away from her work, she said, “If only men were so easily molded. Then we could smooth all our troubles away.”
Pia and Gillian laughed, but the last thing Pia wanted was smooth. Something inside her wanted rough and callous. She wanted a naughty mouth and dangerous words to make her toes curl. She’d been thinking about Sirius since their trip from Liverpool. He’d been away on business for over a fortnight.
She missed him. She could smell him in the air, mostly whenever she walked past his office and at night, she dreamed of the feel of his mouth at her throat and couldn’t help but think how wonderful it would feel elsewhere.
Though she’d never experienced the pleasure that filled her mind, Melody had taught Pia enough that she was no longer green where intimacy was concerned.
She prayed the roads were kind to him and that he’d return soon. He’d told no one of his exact location and all Pia could do—when she wasn’t thinking about the way he’d touched her— was think about the blood she’d seen on his hands.
He had enemies. He was a spy. She wanted him safe.
She wanted him and though marriage was not something she wished to try again, she didn’t want to lose Sirius.
Much as she lost Adam.
She also didn’t understand why she couldn’t think of Sirius without thoughts of Adam invading her mind. Adam had also had bloody knuckles while growing up. They’d been scraped with open wounds, which was why the sight of Sirius’ hadn’t so much startled her as it had raised more than a few questions.
Yet she’d always believed Adam had been defending himself against his brothers. Did Sirius have a need to defend himself? She couldn’t think of a single man who would look at him and dare think to fight him.
Adalina tapped her shoulder and woke Pia from her thoughts. “I wish to learn to use the wheel.”
Pia stood and then gave her apron to Adalina. Once the girl was seated, she walked her through the steps, telling her how to work the foot lever and positioning her hands. Adalina made a few mistakes, which upset the girl greatly, but with a little encouragement and a great amount of water, they eventually got it right.
They made a bowl.
“How does it look?” Adalina asked.
Pia grabbed her arms and gave an encouraging squeeze. “It looks wonderful.”
“Truly?” Adalina smiled. “Perhaps, in another year, under your teaching, I can be as good as you.”
Pia stilled and wondered why Adalina assumed she’d be around for another year.
She’d bonded with Babbette and Adalina in the last few weeks, but Adalina more so, which Pia thought odd. If anything, she’d have thought the oldest to be more wary about her presence, but Adalina all but clung to her side most days.
The young woman asked Pia a hundred questions and for the last three nights, Pia had been braiding Adalina’s hair.
She’d noticed how Babbette and Adalina stared at their cousins and their interactions with Gillian, but while Babbette seemed most content with Georgiana, Pia perceived that all Adalina wanted was a mother of her own.
She had no idea how to tell the girl she would not be around for another year. Perhaps, not even another month. That thought pained her.
Pia didn’t realize how much she’d wanted her own children until Adalina and Babbette.
“You’ll have no reason to wait another year,” Pia said. “You are talented. I don’t think I could have made a better bowl myself.”
Soft wonderment filled Adalina’s eyes. “Thank you, Lady Pia.” Adalina leaned into her and Pia gave her a quick embrace that didn’t require their clay-covered hands.
They laughed.
Over the girl’s shoulder, Pia caught Georgiana’s eye. The woman was wiping away tears.
Dread filled Pia. She couldn’t have anyone thinking she would stay for long.
But there was no denying the fact that if she wanted to, she could.
He hadn’t proposed by presenting her with the expected question but had proposed the idea of marriage in general and made it clear that he wanted her to be his partner.
She enjoyed her time with him. She didn’t know if she could enjoy the rest of her life with him.
“That bowl looks good enough to eat out of,” Sirius said.
Pia straightened at his voice. Immediately, she lifted her hand to brush her hair back and cringed when she felt wet clay on her cheek.
Sirius reached out and tucked the hair behind her ear. His finger trailed down her throat, the side that he’d marked, before he retracted his hand. The marks he’d left were gone, but Pia covered the place anyway and tried to keep the desire from her eyes. She glanced around and saw the others were watching them.
“So this is what you’ve been making in my kitchen.” Sirius reached for his handkerchief and began to wipe at Pia’s cheek.
Startled, Pia took the clo
th. “T-thank you.”
He seemed unbothered by the looks they were getting as he smiled. “Cook said she was quite confused when she heard banging, spotted dough, but had been told it was not to be eaten.” He hadn’t bothered to look away from her since he’d walked into the room.
She wondered what had come over him. When they’d parted, it had been on the understanding that they would be no more than friends. Pia could not handle more than that. Not mentally, anyway.
Yet she could see the determination in his gaze. His thoughts were clear.
It had taken her days to convince Gillian that nothing had taken place between her and Sirius while they’d been away. Now, she’d have to work twice as hard to convince her friend again and with the way Sirius’ gaze claimed her, Pia would have to have quite a few little talks with herself.
He looked magnificent. He didn’t have to wear black. He could have worn a band for his brother, but Pia said nothing, because never before had she seen the dark shade look so good.
It had only been weeks, yet Pia’s eyes were soaking him in as though they’d suffered from a drought and finally found their water source.
Friends. The word mocked whatever was going on between them.
She worked to get her breathing under control. She failed and then realized that she actually had to breathe in order to do it.
She took a breath.
Adalina spoke. “You’re not mad at us or Lady Pia, are you, Papa? I like her.”
Sirius’ eyes moved down to his daughter. “It is not a skill that a young lady requires, but I see no harm in it.” He lifted a brow. “So long as you don’t think to sell any of this.”
Adalina relaxed and smiled. “No, Papa. I wanted to make something for you.”
He returned her smile. “I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.”
Immediately, the other girls also wished to make the Earl of Gordie something. They approached him with excitement and held up each of their painted objects for his inspection. He studied each piece and even added wonder to his tone as he praised each child individually.
The Secret Pleasures of an Earl: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 11