Someone to Love

by Cheryl Holt

  He gestured to the food. “I thought we’d dine buffet style and serve ourselves.”

  “That will be perfect.”

  “Can I chase the footmen away? I’d like to have you all to myself without them hovering.”

  “I guess you can chase them away. I can’t imagine you’d ravish me in your garden.”

  “You might be surprised by what I’d attempt with you.” He waved toward the trees. “There’s a bench over there. We could commit all sorts of wicked acts on it, if I could lure you over there.”

  “If that’s the case, I can guarantee I shall remain right where I am.”

  He nodded to the footmen, and they trudged off, hating to depart. No doubt they were anxious to eavesdrop so they could gossip later in the kitchen. She and Luke were silent until they disappeared inside, but one of them was a sentinel at a window, ready to rush back if Luke motioned for assistance.

  It would be lovely to be rich and pampered. Did he realize how fortunate he was? Probably not. In her experience, wealthy men took their affluence for granted. The more elevated the bloodline, the more convinced they were that they deserved every boon with which they’d been showered.

  “Shall I fill a plate for you?” he asked. “Or will you join me to evaluate our options?”

  “I believe I’d like you to wait on me hand and foot.”

  He grinned a grin she felt clear down to her toes.

  “If I spoil you rotten, will I win a prize?”

  “Don’t be greedy.”

  He went over to the buffet and snooped under the lids, then he peered over his shoulder. “They’ve brought enough to provision an army.”

  “Then I shall be a disappointing guest. When I have to perform at night, I never eat much in the day. It makes me tired.”

  “I’ll serve you tiny portions. What would you like? There are slices of beef and some fish in a white sauce. I see various steamed vegetables, a pudding, and two kinds of pie.”

  “Let me sample all of it. We’ll decide if your chef is earning his wages.”

  “I must admit I don’t really know. I’ve only just arrived in London myself. I’ve been off in the navy, remember? I haven’t had much of a chance to appraise any of my properties or servants.”

  She noticed that he’d said properties, as in plural. Again, she thought it would be lovely to be rich. She wasted so much energy worrying about money, trying to hoard it, trying to accumulate a sufficient amount so she didn’t have to fret.

  Her current situation was typical. She’d rented her house for three months, not being able to ever plan farther ahead than that. She liked the city and hoped she’d book plenty of work so they could stay where they were. If not, they might have to sign on with a traveling troupe where they’d journey around England, having to hunker down during the winter months and praying their funds lasted until spring.

  She was never overly concerned about herself, but she had Simon and Fish to consider. She would never permit them to suffer. She would never leave them behind.

  Luke carried over several plates, the food piled high and nearly falling off the edges. He placed two of them in front of her and two in front of his own chair, then he sat across from her and whipped out his napkin, laying it on his lap.

  She was completely fixated on him, and she distracted herself by pouring them both a glass of wine. He lifted his and toasted her with it.

  “Here’s to us,” he said.

  She blanched. “Us? There is no us.”

  “I’m declaring there is, and I always get my way.”

  “Fine, you bully. Here’s to us.”

  They clinked the rims together.

  “And here’s to our new friendship,” he added.

  “Are we friends?”

  “Yes, and we’re going to become more than friends.”

  “What would that indicate?” she asked. “I’m not marriageable material for you, so where would I fit in your life?”

  “You could be my mistress,” he blithely announced.

  “In some foreign world where corrupt people reside, that might happen. But in the world where I reside, it’s not in the cards.”

  “We’ll see what you wind up giving me in the end.”

  She snorted with amusement. “You’re so vain. Should I tell you how many men over the years have voiced a comment like that to me? It’s why I made you promise we wouldn’t quarrel when you can’t persuade me.”

  “I don’t care how many there have been in the past. You didn’t like any of them as much as you like me. I might be worth it.”

  The cocky statement had her laughing. “You are so full of yourself.”

  “Yes, I always have been.”

  He dug in ravenously, as if he’d been starving in a famine, and she was fascinated by every little detail: how he held his utensils, how he stuck his fork in his mouth, how he chewed.

  She’d never dined intimately with a handsome gentleman before. Generally, she avoided this sort of encounter, and she still couldn’t deduce why she agreed to participate in this one. Pathetic as it was to admit, she simply liked him much more than she should.

  Finally, he noticed she wasn’t eating, and he halted, his fork dangling in mid-air.

  “Don’t you like the food?” he asked.

  “It’s delicious,” she said, even though she hadn’t tried a single morsel.

  “What’s wrong then?”

  “All of this is too odd for me.” She gestured around the garden. “You, this mansion, this picnic. I’m overwhelmed.”

  “You are not. If I had to describe your condition, I’d say you’re totally in your element. This kind of garden and house are exactly where you belong. I wouldn’t deem it unusual to learn you were reared in a palace.”

  “I like fine things. It would be futile to deny it.”

  “You mentioned your Uncle Harry wasn’t your uncle after all. Were you ever able to determine who your parents were? You’re so magnificent. If you confess that your father was a king, I will absolutely believe it.”

  She smirked. “My father wasn’t a king.”

  Luke raised a brow. “You found out who he is then?”

  “Yes, recently—after Harry passed away.”

  She was stunned to find herself blabbing portions of her secret to him. She hadn’t even told Fish or Simon, but he simply encouraged candor. Tidbits were begging to leak out, and she couldn’t shut up.

  “Tell me about your father,” he said. “Is he noble? Is he British? Might I be acquainted with him?”

  A myriad of replies flitted about in her head. She sifted through them, struggling to figure out the best response.

  After she’d realized the import of Harry’s old letters, she’d been dying to apprise someone of the discovery. She’d tamped down the urge though, having convinced herself to tread cautiously, to ponder the angles and ramifications. She had a very tender heart. If she stepped forward and was denounced as a liar—which was very likely—she’d be crushed.

  Her greatest wish was to fit in somewhere, to have a family—a real family—where she was a cherished member. She now knew where she’d originally come from, but she couldn’t fathom how to barge back to that spot and demand she be accepted. Her story was—like the monologues she performed on stage—too fantastical to be true.

  “I’m certain you’ve never heard of him,” she said, and he scoffed with disgust.

  “You’re lying to me again. Why? Is he a criminal? Is he a notorious scoundrel? What?”

  She tsked with exasperation. “I might confide in you—someday. And why are you always so sure you can perceive when I’m lying.”

  “Your face is an open book to me. We shouldn’t ever gamble.”

  “Trust me. We won’t.”

  He pointed to the food, and she pretended to swallow small bit
es. Mostly, she pushed it around with her fork while they talked about everything and nothing. They finished by sharing a piece of pie, with him feeding her from his own slice. It seemed terribly intimate, and she hadn’t understood that sharing a meal could be so personal.

  Ultimately, he declared himself stuffed, and he shoved their plates aside and leaned toward her. He studied her in that severe manner he had, his fabulous blue eyes digging deep.

  “What should I do with you?” he murmured.

  “What a silly question.”

  “How shall we carry on? I’m interested in your opinion.”

  “I will be happy to dine with you or to join you on a carriage ride whenever you choose to invite me. I’d love to see some of your horses too. We could take a fast canter together.”

  She’d already decided that she’d have to devise ways to avoid him. He was entirely too enthralled, and she was beginning to worry that she was too, but she wouldn’t lead him on and have him assume they could have more than a casual meeting.

  “I don’t suppose you’d ever agree to a night out at the theater,” he said.

  She chuckled. “Since I’ve spent my life on stages, it’s not much of an enticement.”

  “If I could walk in with you on my arm, all the other men would be green with envy.”

  “I’m afraid it’s an experience you will just have to miss.”

  He downed the last of his wine, then he patted his thigh. “Come here.”

  “Why?”

  “I intend to kiss you senseless. We had pie to conclude the meal, but you are the real dessert.”

  “I don’t like the gleam in your eye. It’s obvious you’re planning mischief.”

  “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You are so stubborn.”

  “So are you.”

  He rose and stepped around the table, and he lifted her and slid onto her chair, then he snuggled her onto his lap. She could have protested or leapt up and escaped, but the sad fact was that she’d wound up precisely where she’d been desperate to be.

  “There’s a potent attraction sizzling between us,” he said.

  “No, there isn’t. I constantly suffer through flirtations like this.”

  “This isn’t a mere flirtation. How shall we proceed?”

  “I’m not the woman you imagine, and I’m definitely not the woman you seem to be seeking. I’m acquainted with dozens of trollops who would be delighted to have an affair with you. If you’re looking for carnal companionship, I can introduce you to some of them.”

  He snorted at that. “I’m not looking just for carnal companionship, and with you voicing a word like carnal, I’m convinced you’re not quite as innocent as you claim to be. It makes me want to try harder to wear you down.”

  “We’re not at the spot where you’ll get grouchy, are we?”

  “No. You could never upset me.”

  “Even if I’m not loose with my favors?” she asked.

  “Even then, but I think you’re lying about it. I think you’re reeling me in like a fish on a hook. Are you hoping to stir me to an insane level of infatuation in order to drive up your price?”

  “You are being absurd, and I have no price.” She rolled her eyes with annoyance. “You’ve insulted me, and I’d like to leave. Will you take me? Or will you force me to find my own way home?”

  “If that’s how you presume I’d act, you’re the one who’s being absurd.”

  She struggled to scoot away, but he gripped her waist and wouldn’t let her go.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m being an ass.”

  “Yes, you are, and if you’re not careful, you’ll spoil a perfectly lovely picnic.”

  “You simply tempt me as I’ve never previously been tempted.”

  “I wish I could prevent it, but I can’t fathom how I would.”

  “I blame it on Fate,” he bizarrely said. “The gods are pushing us together.”

  “Why would they?”

  “Perhaps they want to see what sort of collision will occur.”

  “Perhaps.”

  He started kissing her then, and she heartily joined in. From the moment he’d strutted into her parlor, the air had been charged with yearning. It was probably best to dispel some of it before she departed, for of a certainty, she would have to hide from him in the future.

  He wouldn’t like it, but she was only scheduled to perform at the theater for another week, then she’d agreed to attend the house party Simon had arranged. After that, she couldn’t predict where she’d be.

  For the next few days, she would have to enlist Fish and the theater manager to keep him out of the dressing rooms. If he became particularly recalcitrant, she would vanish from London until his ardor cooled.

  She prayed it wouldn’t end like that. Once he realized she wouldn’t succumb to his advances, he’d likely lose interest very quickly.

  As always happened with them, their embrace heated up, and they continued forever. He simply kissed her, then kissed her some more. He didn’t attempt any genuine mischief, didn’t begin grabbing for buttons or laces. He did yank the combs from her hair though, so the lengthy locks floated over her shoulders and he could riffle his fingers through the soft strands.

  Eventually, they slowed, then stopped. She rested against his chest, her face buried at his nape as he caressed a lazy hand up and down her back.

  “Would you come up to my bedchamber?”

  She laughed, but miserably. “I can’t.”

  “I’d ask if you’re sure, but I suspect you are.”

  She drew away and studied him, committing every detail to memory. She reached out and traced a finger over his nose, cheeks, and lips. He had such a luscious mouth. It was absolutely made for kissing.

  “I’m heading to the country tomorrow,” he abruptly announced. “Will you miss me?”

  At the news, she was swamped by an enormous wave of disappointment, but she concealed it and grinned instead. “I would never admit that I might miss you. You’re already much too vain, so I wouldn’t dare stroke your massive ego. It doesn’t need stroking.”

  “Tell me you’ll miss me,” he insisted. “Say it.”

  “All right, you rat. I’ll miss you.”

  “That’s more like it.”

  “How long will you be away?”

  “Almost three weeks. I wish I didn’t have to go, but the plans have been in place for ages. I can’t skip out on any of them.”

  She was saddened to hear about his trip, but relieved too. It solved numerous problems with regard to him.

  After she concluded her limited run at the theater, she’d leave London too, for the house party. Then she would order Simon not to seek further engagements in town for a while. She’d sneak off to a spot where Luke would never search for her.

  Not that she expected he’d search. His attention span for a doxy—as he definitely deemed her to be—would be very short. As the old adage went, out of sight, out of mind. He’d forget all about her.

  “What will occupy you for three whole weeks?” she asked.

  “I have pressing business at my estate. My deceased brother left a terrible financial mess for me to clean up. I have many issues to deal with there.”

  “Will you return to town after you’re finished?”

  “Yes. Will you be impatiently waiting for me to arrive?”

  “I’ll be here,” she fibbed, “but whether I’ll be waiting for you is another matter entirely.”

  “I’ll call on you the minute I’m back.”

  At the notion, her pulse raced, proving that she liked him much more than was wise and she’d allowed the situation to spiral out of control.

  She sighed. “To what end, Luke? There’s no reason for us to soc
ialize.”

  “It makes me happy, which seems like a very good reason.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  He brushed a kiss across her lips. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t fuss over it.”

  “I won’t.”

  “It would be wrong to simply walk away from you.”

  “It would be wrong, wouldn’t it?” she said. “We’ve hardly started.”

  “Yes, and it will be thrilling to see where this wild ride takes us. I can’t imagine what direction we’ll ultimately travel.”

  She could imagine it quite clearly. He’d dote on her until he grew bored, then out of the blue, he’d declare himself to be over her. They’d part, and he’d never ponder her again.

  She, on the other hand, would suffer the loss forever. On top of the emotional calamity, she might wind up with a bastard baby thrown into the mix. Then what? She’d have to beg him for assistance, hoping he’d toss her a few coins to help her support her child.

  She wouldn’t live that way. She couldn’t.

  For him, an amorous fling was all tantalizing sport that was practically expected from a man of his station. For her, it was nothing but peril and disaster. He’d mentioned that Fate must have pushed them together, and she suspected that might be true, but so what?

  In a different world, if her young mother hadn’t been insane, Libby might have been the precise girl Luke required. But in her current pathetic condition, she could never be his.

  “Now then,” she said, “I’ve had a wonderful afternoon, but I have to be going. I have preparations to complete before my show.”

  “I guess I can let you leave.”

  She slid off his lap, and she leaned down and picked up the combs he’d plucked from her hair. When she straightened, he was still on the chair, his mood visibly glum.

  “Don’t be so morose,” she said. “You’ll see me in three weeks.”

  “It’s an eternity, and I’m humiliated to admit that I am devastated by the prospect of our pending separation.”

  “It will pass like that.” She snapped her fingers to indicate the brevity.

  “I could stop by the theater tonight. We could have supper afterward.”