“Come in.”
Jane opened the door and peeked around the edge. “I know you wanted to rest, but may I join you for a moment?”
Lucinda nodded with more gusto than was required. Her friend could surely help her take her mind off Mr. Riley. Or at least help her determine if she needed a doctor for her physical state.
“Of course. Please join me.” She moved toward the bowl of fresh cool water on the dressing table. “Do you mind if I wash my face?”
“No.” Jane sat down in one of the chairs by the fire.
Lucinda could feel her gaze on her back as she took a cloth from beside the basin and wetted it. She was a bit surprised when the water touching her skin didn’t sizzle, but took it as a good sign that she wasn’t about to burst into flame right there in the bedchamber.
“You seemed a little anxious downstairs,” Jane said when Lucinda had set the washcloth aside. “And I wondered if you were having second thoughts about staying here with us for a few weeks?”
Lucinda turned on her with a frown. “Why would you think that?”
Jane shifted. “I-I know it is uncomfortable for you to be around Nicholas because he and Anthony were twins. Seeing him with me must also be… odd. We do try to be discreet, I hope you know neither of us would ever cause you pain on purpose.”
Lucinda blinked at her friend. “Oh no, Jane. If I seemed out of humor, I promise you it wasn’t because of Nicholas, or anything you two did or didn’t do in my presence.” She moved to the sitting area and took a place across from Jane with a shake of her head. “You know, it is odd to be with Nicholas, I admit. Though they were twins, they were very different men, but sometimes Nicholas does turn his head just so or phrases something in a way that makes me catch my breath.”
Jane nodded. “I cannot imagine how difficult that must be.”
“I think there will always be some residual effect like that, but to be honest it has gotten easier over the past few months, especially. Watching you two together was very strange at first, but I think it has actually helped me. Nicholas and you are nothing like Anthony and I were, though both relationships were built on a solid foundation of love. It reminds me that Nicholas is not his brother. And with time marching on, the sting fades every time I see Nicholas.”
Jane almost went limp in the chair and the relief on her face was palpable. “I’m so glad. We both care for you deeply and neither one of us wants to see you pull away from our family because of-”
“I know,” Lucinda said and reached out to take her sister-in-law’s hand. “And slowly, but ever so certainly, I’m realizing I won’t have to. I promise you. They say time is the healer and that may not be completely true, but it does dull pain. It does smooth the edges of a sharp memory.”
Jane nodded and Lucinda could see she was thinking of the brother she had lost. Then her brow wrinkled. “But if it wasn’t Nicholas who caused your strange behavior, then why?”
Lucinda tensed. Was her reaction to Rage’s unexpected presence so obvious? She hadn’t realized she had betrayed herself so fully.
“Wait,” Jane said and her gaze met Lucinda’s. “You were talking to Rage. He didn’t say something that upset you, did he?”
“No!” Lucinda hastened to assure her. “Rage- Mr. Riley has never been anything but proper toward me.”
Except for those meaningful looks and the fact that his touch gave her shivers.
Jane nodded. “And he never would be. At least not purposefully.”
“Hmmm.” Lucinda looked at the edge of her sleeve as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “It seems Nicholas trusts him greatly, not just as a friend, but by allowing him to handle some of his financial dealings.”
“Yes,” Jane said slowly, as if she were uncertain about the question. Then she tilted her head slightly. “Rage is a very good man, rough around the edges though he may be.”
Lucinda nodded. There was no reason for her to be interested in these things, but she was regardless.
And Jane must have sensed that, for she said, “You have been a widow for nearly two years, Lucinda. Have you ever thought that you might…”
“Might?” Lucinda asked when Jane hesitated.
“Perhaps develop an interest in another man.” Jane shifted uncomfortably.
“No!” Lucinda said as she moved to her feet and paced away. “Yes. No.”
“Very certain of you,” Jane said with a gentle laugh.
Lucinda turned and shot her sister-in-law a look, though she was anything but angry. “There have been men who have expressed an interest in me, after my year of mourning ended, of course. But it is evident they were only interested in either my money or the standing my name and family connections could bring to them. With the girls being so young and with the pickings rather… slim, I haven’t thought about it.”
“But you haven’t ruled it out,” Jane offered.
A shrug was the only answer Lucinda could provide. She hadn’t spoken out loud of such an idea to anyone. At first to do so had seemed like a betrayal of Anthony’s memory. Now… well, now it had been so shocking for so long that she had a hard time not feeling like she was doing something wrong by even considering taking another man into her life. Or her bed.
She was struck by a sudden and strong image of Rage’s angled face moving down toward hers, his mouth claiming her with all the animal possession pent up within him. Shocked by her wayward thoughts, she immediately shook it away.
“Are you well?” Jane asked and got to her own feet. “You sucked in your breath very suddenly.”
Lucinda squeezed her eyes shut. Good Lord, whatever was happening with her, she had to remember herself.
“Jane, the idea of finding some kind of romance or… whatever it is that one would find with a man as a widow is a bewitching one to be sure. But it isn’t realistic. At this time in my life, my concentration must be entirely on my children. They are the most important thing in my life now.”
Jane nodded. “Of course. But-”
“But?”
“The children aren’t here now.” Jane shrugged lightly. “Anything you did while here in our company would have no effect on them.”
Lucinda swallowed hard. She had no idea how to respond to that statement. It seemed her sister-in-law was encouraging her to enter into an affair of some kind. Perhaps even with Rage Riley. And though the idea was utterly inappropriate, out of character and completely preposterous… it didn’t feel wrong. Not as it should.
“I have kept you too long,” Jane said softly. “I’ll leave you to your rest. I apologize if I’ve overstepped with any advice I may have given. It was kindly meant, I hope you know that.”
Lucinda nodded and smiled as Jane slipped to the door and out into the hallway. But when she was alone, the smile drifted away. She had claimed to want a time alone to rest herself, but it was more than clear now… this visit might be many things, but restful was not one of them. Not if Rage Riley was going to be there.
~~~
The cravat around Rage’s neck felt like a noose and it was growing tighter with every passing moment. That was always the way of these events. Stone invited him out of kindness, he supposed, though sometimes he wondered if it was just to have a partner in his own discomfort at being a “gentleman”. Tonight it had been a mere dinner party, attended by a scant handful of other couples from the shire. A dinner with too many forks, too many courses, too many polite questions about weather and crops and politics that did not interest Rage in the slightest.
But this night had one thing none of the other nights had. Lucinda.
Lucinda sitting down the table from him. Three spots exactly and across a narrow expanse of wood and china. Close enough that he occasionally heard the lilting tones of her voice when she murmured to the people around her. Or the melody of her laugh when she responded to something clever someone said. He’d even caught her glancing his way once, though her gaze had darted away just as quickly.
Now the i
ntimate group had gathered in a parlor, sitting around tables to play whist or gathered in small clusters to continue their supper conversations. Rage stood in the corner of the room, arms folded, just waiting for it all to end so he could stop pretending he was comfortable.
“Mr. Riley?”
He stiffened and slowly turned to find Lucinda at his elbow. He had been trying very hard not to stare at her since the party had moved to the parlor. At supper he could disguise his regard by pretending to be engrossed in the stuffy conversation of the companion on his left, but in the parlor, prying eyes might notice if his gaze found Lucinda too often. That kind of gossip would only embarrass her and he refused to allow that.
And yet here she was.
“Good evening, my lady,” he said softly.
“Would you mind if I stand here with you for a few moments?” Lucinda asked with a sheepish smile. “I am having difficulty finding any good topics of conversation with anyone here and I’m starting to feel quite awkward in the attempt.”
“You, awkward?” Rage chuckled. “I hardly believe that is possible. There is no one with more grace that I have ever met in the ton or outside of it.”
Lucinda’s cheeks darkened at his compliment and the pink traveled lower to disappear into the demure scooped neckline of her dark green gown.
“Thank you for that,” she said softly. “I appreciate it more than you could know. I do feel so out of place, I’m happy to hear that my discomfort is not as noticeable as I feel.”
“And why would you be so uncomfortable?” Rage asked, truly confused by the idea that someone so beautiful and refined could ever feel she didn’t fit into a world tailor-made for her.
She shook her head and little blonde tendrils of hair shivered around her face. “I have been away from Society for almost two years, at least in any real way. I attended events, but no one expected much from me due to my state of mourning. Now they begin to expect me to…” She laughed. “… behave like the woman of my station that I am. It’s very vexing.”
Rage couldn’t help but laugh with her. “At least you know what your station is. No one knows what to expect of me and to be honest, I have no idea how to behave a good portion of the time. I feel as though my every move is being analyzed to prove or disprove the particular watcher’s predetermined opinion of me. And so I stand in the corner like an angry statue and hope to be unnoticed.”
“As if that could happen,” Lucinda said just under her breath, but Rage heard her nonetheless. Then she glanced up at him. “So it seems you and I have circumstances that are the mirror image of each other. Perhaps we should agree to save one another during our time here.”
Rage stared down at her, captivated by her beauty, intrigued by her openness toward him, mired down by a desire for her that he had felt the first moment he saw her, but had always known he could not pursue.
Except now… could he?
“Do you need to be saved?” he asked, his tone low and meaningful.
She was silent for a moment, looking at him with the same intensity with which he stared at her. Her blue eyes had dilated, the pupils almost impossibly large and black. She shivered almost imperceptibly and in that moment, that wild and charged moment, he realized that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. She hadn’t always been, not when she loved her husband, not when she was mired down by mourning and pain… but now, with time lessening her grief and with nothing to tie her down, she could not hide the interest that flickered in her stare and was written on the tense lines of her body.
“Do you?” she finally croaked out.
He stepped toward her, not inappropriately close, but close enough that her breath caught. She swallowed, but did not speak because at that moment one of the men who had been sitting near Rage at supper stepped up.
“Was Mr. Riley speaking to you on his very interesting views on the lower class and education?” the gentleman said with an indulgent smile for Rage.
Rage gripped his hands into fists at his sides. This was another reason why he hated these events. Pompous fools with no real idea of anyone outside their own sphere seemed to view him as a sideshow.
“Lord Blythestone,” Lucinda said with a welcoming smile, though Rage saw that her eyes did not hold the warmth of emotion that her lips did. “How lovely to see you.”
“As it is to see you, Lady Stoneworth,” the gentleman said and he gave a lecherous look at Lucinda that made every hair on Rage’s neck stand up straight. Blythestone looked at Lucinda like she was a sweet made for his pleasure.
Rage wanted to box him into the ground, but that wasn’t his place. Not unless Blythestone decided to take his leering into true action.
“You look beautiful, as always. It is nice to see you out of your mourning colors.”
Lucinda’s lips thinned. “Thank you.” She glanced at Rage briefly. “You two must excuse me. I need to talk to my sister-in-law for a moment.”
“Of course.” Blythestone bowed low as he took her hand and pressed a brief kiss to it. “I hope to speak to you again during your visit.”
“Indeed,” Lucinda said, her tone chilly. Then she smiled at Rage and the coldness was gone. “Mr. Riley.”
He nodded as she slipped away into the crowd toward Jane. The two spoke for a moment and both frowned as they looked toward Blythestone. One more reason to despise the man, for interrupting their conversation and driving Lucinda away.
“Attractive woman, to be certain,” Blythestone said with a knowing look toward Rage. “Hope her lack of widow’s weeds means she’s finally open to a bit of wooing. She’s certainly dragged that out long enough.”
Rage glared down at the “gentleman”. He might be of the same class as Lucinda, but he wasn’t fit to shine her shoes, let alone to “woo” her. The very idea left the taste of bile on Rage’s tongue.
“From what I understand, she loved her husband quite deeply. A longer mourning period is to be expected.”
Blythestone rolled his eyes. “Women and their sentimental ideals. When my wife died, that mourning period was the longest year of my life.” He looked across the room at her and grinned. “Good lord, but she is beautiful. They’ll be fighting over winning her in London this fall, that is for certain. Hope to get a leg up while she’s so close by.”
Rage pulled his arms against his chest all the tighter, mostly because he feared he would take a swipe at this idiot if he didn’t gain some control over himself. “Well, good luck with that, my lord. If you’ll excuse me.”
He didn’t wait for the answer, but turned on his heel and headed away from the slimy little prick, out of the parlor and up to his own chamber, where he knew his rest would not be steady, or his dreams peaceful.
Chapter Three
Rage had predicted his evening with perfect clarity. He’d spent hours laying in his bed, thinking of Lucinda, just down the hallway, and whatever connection he had felt between them. By the time dawn came, he had found himself wondering if he could have only imagined the spark he’d felt when they touched or talked the day before. After all, he had met her more than a handful of times and never felt anything more from her than a friendly regard for the best friend of her brother-in-law. Perhaps he was only taking his own feelings and laying them over her, pretending there was more there than there really was.
He’d had his horse saddled as the sun came up and had been riding her over the property for almost an hour, trying to clear his head. Trying to figure out how to shake off this strange desire that had seemed to explode within him the moment he saw Lucinda in the foyer.
He urged his filly over the crest of a hill and there, in the distance was a female figure walking through the grass in a slow, steady cadence. As he edged closer, he realized with a start that it was Lucinda, herself, he had stumbled upon.
She hadn’t yet noticed him as she stood with her back toward him, looking over the rolling countryside, so he still had the option to leave her be, ride back to the estate and pretend he hadn’t seen her. B
ut running hadn’t ever been Rage’s mode of operation, even when it was, perhaps, the best option. So instead he knickered at the filly and rode the few hundred yards between them at a trot.
Lucinda half-turned when he was a few lengths away and her face lit up with a smile as she raised her hand in greeting. “Good morning, Mr. Riley.”
“My lady,” he said as he swung off the horse and took her reins to lead her the last few feet. “I thought that was you. What are you doing out so early?”
Lucinda laughed as she stepped up and began to stroke his horse’s nose gently. “You forget, I have two young children. I am always up early in London thanks to their often excitable love for the morning. Rising with the rooster is a harder habit to break than I thought it would be when I pictured myself here in the country, laying languidly in bed until all hours of the late morning.”
Rage swallowed hard. Her vivid description made him think of the very same thing, only he added himself to that image of her in her bed. And languid wasn’t the word he would use to describe their morning activities.
“Indeed,” he croaked. “Well, perhaps your routine will change after a time.”
“Perhaps. Of course once that happens, it shall be time for me to return home and then it will be difficult to rise with the sun.” She smiled. “And what of you? Somehow I always pictured you as a night owl, carousing until all hours and only rising to take your supper and do it all over again. What is your excuse for being out so early in the morning?”
Rage stared at her for a moment. He hadn’t realized his activities had been of such interest to her. The idea that she had such vivid imaginings about them was rather interesting.
“I am not like those aristocratic toffs. I have always liked the night, that is true, but the morning is the best time to ride.”
Lucinda nodded as she looked at his horse. “And you have the prettiest filly to spend that time riding. What is her name?”
Rogue for a Night Page 2