Lorena knew that the tavern maid had no clue just how very accurate her claim to be. Lorena was very lucky. More than lucky. She was blessed. If they married, it would be a love match and she was sure her parents would be proud.
Mary-Ann motioned her head into the tavern. “Well, do come in. I’ll get Herbert, my husband. He owns the Dockhand.” Then she moved from the door and down a shadowed hall, swinging her weight from side to side. Lorena wondered how a woman so full with child managed to work late and yet be up so early in the day.
They followed her down the dark hall and Lorena looked through a walkway at the part of the establishment where she’d been the previous night. Very little looked familiar to her, but she was surprised at the sheer number of people who were sitting at tables, drinking.
They were shown to a small dining table in a kitchen. Mary-Ann instructed them to take a seat, then left.
They were only alone for a moment before a very thin man with nearly white hair came in. Lorena looked him over to see if he resembled what she remembered of the man who’d jumped from the window two weeks ago.
He didn’t. Lorena was very sure that the man who’d jumped from the window was younger. His hair had been dark. Also, the man before her, who she suspected to be Hubert, moved on stiff legs, and Lorena couldn’t see him jumping out a window.
“How might I assist you ladies?” Herbert asked with an expression that told them nothing.
Lorena said, “You saw a man jump from the window of Lord Ashwick’s home the other night.”
Herbert nodded. “I did. Told everyone who would listen it was my nephew.”
“Your nephew?” Sophia asked.
“An actor,” Herbert told her. “He lives in the house behind Lord Ashwick’s and he has reason to have a mask, being an actor.”
Lorena studied Herbert. “Why do you blame your nephew?” Surely, no man would wish to accuse their own family of a crime that came with severe consequences. If Herbert were right, his nephew’s life would be very well over.
“Levi told me he owed someone a great deal of money,” Herbert said. “What better way to get it than to steal it? He’s an actor and not a brilliant one. He’d never make enough to actually pay his debt on his own.”
“Where were you when the house burned?” Sophia asked.
“At my sister’s,” Herbert said. “I was sitting by the window in her drawing room when I saw my nephew run by, wearing a white mask.”
“And you’re sure it was your nephew?” Lorena asked.
“I’m sure,” Herbert told them. “It was Levi. Would you like some ale before you leave?”
“No,” Lorena quickly said as she brought herself to her feet. Then she took out a coin and proceeded to hand it to Herbert.
Herbert held up his hands. “What I offered came without a fee.” Then he turned and left.
Mary-Ann, who’d been standing in a corner of the room, showed them to the door and told them to return… if they brought the Men of Nashwood. Since Lorena knew that would never happen, she simply waved and left.
Sophia said, “Where to now?”
“Home,” Lorena told her. “Ashwick is taking me to the park.”
Sophia nodded, found a hack, and they were on their way. During the ride, Lorena wanted to know more about Sophia but decided she would wait until Sophia was ready to share her story. Then Lorena would share her own.
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CHAPTER TWENTY
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Lorena smiled from under her parasol as Ashwick’s curricle entered Green Park. She’d thought them to go to Hyde Park, but Green Park, Lorena decided, was by far her favorite. Unlike Hyde, there were no buildings to obscure the view, which often reminded Lorena of the country. It was situated between the city and the palace, running along the King’s Palace’s gardens and St. James Park.
“Why did you choose here?” she asked Ashwick. Though Hyde Park would have made more sense, it was too early for them to be fashionable, so their location didn’t matter much… so long as they didn’t enter St. James Park. A woman lost her reputation by going there. It was much too close to where the gentlemen’s clubs were located.
Ashwick turned his charming gray eyes to her. “I don’t know, but I prefer the view here. It reminds me of a place known for its endless grass. No ponds, just field.” Then, as though she didn’t know where he spoke of, he said, “It reminds me of your family’s estate and some of my most cherished memories.”
Lorena grinned. “Oh, like the time I set that squirrel loose on your lap.” That had occurred the first year of his visit.
“Or,” Ashwick went on, “the day I trailed mud into the foyer and you came running in, slipped, and fell on your bottom.” Another event from Ashwick’s first visit to the Valdeston estate.
Lorena cringed and said, “I can still feel the pain.”
He leaned over. “If you need me to look it over for you, you need only ask, my lady.”
Lorena’s entire face heated. “Never!”
“No?” He’d turned his eyes back to the road, but when he happened to look at her again, he laughed.
“I don’t find any humor in this discussion.” She couldn’t imagine anyone looking at her… there. Did men truly do such a thing?
“Lorena,” Ashwick called.
She turned to look at him, still frowning at the thought of exposing her bottom to anyone.
He studied her eyes for a moment. His eyes darkened. “When we make love, I plan to see and touch every inch of you.”
Lorena’s eyes widened and she asked, “Is that truly necessary? You didn’t have to see me when we were in the garden.” She thought he might be the best man to pose her questions to about their physical encounter, but she was much too embarrassed to do so. She supposed when they married, Aunt Matilda would tell her what went on between a man and a woman, but there was another part of her that thought her aunt’s talk would come much too late.
Just staring at Ashwick and having him so near her sent her aflame. It was as though her body had been a lantern that had sat untouched for years, only to have Ashwick’s flicker of light bring her to life.
Ashwick stopped his curricle close to a few others and turned to her. His eyes moved over her, flickering to her eyes and mouth, before meeting her eyes once more. “My love, what you and I did in the garden was not making love.”
Lorena’s eyes widened. “What more could there be?” He’d most definitely been up her skirt, boldly moving over her bloomers, and thus rubbing over the sensitive flesh between her legs. Her breathing came rushed at the memory.
His lips rose on one side. “Much more, my love.”
“I can’t seem to think of anything else when you’re around,” she confessed. “I don’t think it ladylike.”
Ashwick smiled and his eyes darkened. “I’ve no idea what other ladies think of when they are with the man they love, but when you are with me, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Lorena smiled.
His voice lowered and he growled. “I can’t wait to touch you.”
Lorena’s eyes widened again. “You mean… under my clothes?”
He groaned and she watched his chest rise and fall with his every breath. Then while still holding her eyes, he said, “Yes.”
“Oh,” was all she said. Her mind had gone blank except for the image of what it would be like to have Ashwick touch her.
Ashwick, in a blink, turned and climbed down the curricle. He walked around and helped her down. Her feet had barely touched the ground before he began escorting her from the road. Quickly. He’d placed his hand on her arm and was traveling fast.
“Are we in a hurry?” Lorena asked, glad she was not a short woman, or she’d never have been able to keep pace.
He slowed his feet and turned to her. “I’m sorry. I was simply trying t
o outrun my thoughts.”
“What thoughts?” she asked.
He gave her a look that was heated and dark. “You don’t want to know.”
But she did want to know. She wanted to know everything, and she wanted to learn it from him.
He was still staring at her when he said, “Damn,” and turned away and started walking again.
“What?” she asked.
“Don’t look at me that way,” he told her. Warned her.
Lorena decided a change of topic was well overdue. “My brother tells me you’re turning his townhouse into a gentlemen’s club.”
This seemed to slow his pace and he said, “Yes. I think it was Calvin’s idea, but I’m not sure. Perhaps we all came to the discussion at the same time.”
At their slowed pace, Lorena was able to take in a glimpse of the sun that broke through a parting in the clouds before it was hidden away once more. “I could easily imagine Calvin wishing to open a club. He does like the tables.” Her eyes closed just as the sun came out again, and moved her parasol to the side just to feel the sun for a second or so. It was those seconds, she knew, that kept her from having the palest skin, but she couldn’t help herself. The sun was such a rarity and it felt heavenly.
“You seem very close to Calvin,” Ashwick said.
Lorena placed the parasol back over her head as the sun went away and looked at Ashwick. “I suppose we are, but no more than I am with any of the other men.” Then she grinned and said, “And definitely not as close as you and I are.”
Ashwick grinned at those words and asked, “When do you plan on telling me yes?”
She smiled. “Soon, I hope.” If Herbert’s nephew Levi was the reason that Ashwick’s home burned to the ground, then she and Ashwick would be together very soon.
“You hope?” Ashwick asked with a lifted brow. “What stops you from saying yes now?”
To avoid speaking the truth, she said, “Your mother loathes me.” It was a different truth. A real truth and she regretted saying it the moment the words left her mouth.
“My mother doesn’t hate you,” Ashwick told her.
Lorena stilled, remembering Lady Ashwick’s eyes on her the night of the party. There was no doubt in Lorena’s mind that the woman had simply been waiting for Lorena to doing something in error, and she hadn’t had to wait long. The entire house had witnessed it. They’d all been rushed from the building, choking on smoke, and blaming Lorena. Never mind that it wasn’t truly her fault.
“Your mother does, indeed, hate me,” Lorena told him without looking in his direction. She kept her gaze on the trees they passed.
“My mother hates everything,” Ashwick said. “So, you shouldn’t think yourself alone.”
Lorena turned and found his eyes to be on her. She frowned and shook her head, wanting to tell him that his mother loved him, but unsure if it were true. He’d already told her that his mother never told her she loved him. That made Lorena’s stomach turn. There was a chance that Lady Ashwick didn’t love her son, but if that was true, Lorena didn’t wish to make it worse for him.
Still, she pulled on his arm to stop his feet from moving and when he was facing her, she said, “I haven’t told you just how much I love you today.”
Something resembling pain and happiness filled his eyes and touched Lorena’s heart. A bittersweet feeling that made her want to toss her parasol to the ground and wrap her arms around him.
But in such a place as the park, she could do nothing but hold his arm and his eyes. She squeezed her fingers around him and he smiled.
Then she said, “I love you.”
He held her eyes a moment longer and released a shaky sigh. “I don’t believe I’ll ever get used to hearing it.”
“You will,” she told him.
Then he lifted a brow and asked, “Much the same way I’m to get used to you sneaking into taverns at night and causing a world of trouble.”
Lorena bit her lip.
Ashwick leaned forward and said, “Oh, yes, I plan to speak to you on that now that you’re sober.” Then he added, “Never again.”
She met his eyes and promised, “Never again.” She had no need to anyway. Herbert had given her all the information she needed.
He stared at her, narrowed his eyes and said, “That seemed far too easy. Are you well, my dear?”
Lorena only smiled and whispered, “Everything is perfect.”
Ashwick grinned and they resumed their walk. Because of the hour and the location, they met no one they knew. That suited Lorena perfectly. It was almost as if she had Ashwick to herself in a world of their own.
A haven.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
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Dinner was at Mr. Taylor’s. Since Sophia had informed her father that Lorena knew all the Men of Nashwood, he demanded that Lorena send invitations to them all. She was not surprised when all their plans had changed and all ten of them had arrived at her beckoning. She did love them terribly.
What she hadn’t loved, however, was that it was the very night that Mr. Taylor decided to unveil his revelation. He’d managed to have a dress he’d been creating changed into one that not only fit Lorena, but transformed her body. The evening gown was in midnight blue, and though the color almost resembled black, one looked at its cut and the lace at her bosom and no one would mistake her for being in mourning.
“It’s too much,” Lorena told her friends. She’d had Jane help her into the dress in Sophia’s room and now she stood in front of Sophia’s looking glass with no one clue as to who the woman in front of her was.
The lace seemed to make up most of the area of her breasts, exposing her, and yet at the same time, not truly doing so. It was teasing and she thought Mr. Taylor’s revolution had something to do with ensuring that Lorena was never again accepted into the best houses in London.
She mentioned this to Genie, Maura, Jane, and Sophia, as they stood in the room, staring at her.
“You look gorgeous,” Genie breathed.
“And not only are you to be a countess, but you’re nearly family to the Men of Nashwood. To ignore you would me to ignore them all and the ton knows better.”
It didn’t stop Lorena from not being liked. “I can’t wear this.” There weren’t even sleeves. Not truly. Only more lace. “Sophia…”
“I love it,” she cried, almost skipping in a fashion that Lorena would have reserved for Genie, but Genie was too awestruck to perform any sort of movement.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Sophia called, not even asking who was at the door.
Her lady’s maid hardly reached the handle before she jumped back as the door swung open and Mr. Taylor came inside.
He paused in front of the others. He had one arm cross on her stomach and his other hand rested on the one that crossed his body with his fingers at his chin. “Spin,” he told Lorena.
“Mr. Taylor—”
“Spin.”
“Mr. Taylor—”
“Now.”
Lorena wondered if every man in her life would forever tell her what to do. Then she spun. When she was once again facing him, she tried again, “Mr. Taylor—”
“Who painted her?” Mr. Taylor asked.
“Kitty,” Sophia said, referring to her lady’s maid, who was clearing up the makeup.
“Well done,” Mr. Taylor told her.
Kitty turned to Jane and said, “I’ll teach you all that I know.”
“Excellent,” Jane said, her eyes wide as she studied Lorena, looking as though she’d never seen her before.
“Stop it,” Lorena told her.
Jane jumped back.
“All of you,” Lorena went on. “I am not wearing this dress.”
“Let’s get her downstairs,” Mr. Taylor said and turned toward the d
oor. “I want the reaction of every man in the drawing room.”
Lorena’s eyes widened as she now understood precisely why Mr. Taylor had wished her to invite them. He wanted to put her on display. “You can’t do this to me,” she cried.
Mr. Taylor stopped at the door. “It’s not me, darling,” he told her. “It’s the revolution.” Then he was gone.
Lorena took a breath and said, “I don’t even know what the revolution is.” She’d found out that it also included new undergarments. This, she liked. The undergarments she wore were the softest that had ever touched her skin. But the dress was an entirely different issue.
And before she complained further, Sophia’s hand closed around her arm and began to show her out of the room. Genie was giggling behind her.
“Oh, I can’t wait to see Ashwick’s face.”
Lorena’s heart fluttered in her chest. She tried to breathe but found it a challenge. “I don’t wish to see his face,” she managed. She didn’t want to see anyone’s face, believing they’d all look at her and laugh. She’d never worn anything like this before. It was humiliating. “Have mercy,” she whispered to the ceiling.
Sophia helped Lorena down the stairs, but by the time Lorena’s feet touched the landing, she felt dizzy and knew herself likely to faint. She couldn’t breathe.
“Lorena?” Maura called, now coming to stand before her with a worried expression. “Breathe, dear.”
Lorena’s eyes widened, and she wanted to say, can you not tell that I am breathing? But she didn’t have the air to sacrifice.
Aunt Matilda magically appeared before her with a determined expression on her face. “Eyes on me,” she demanded.
Lorena held her eyes, thinking them so much like her mother’s. Aunt Matilda was so beautiful and she wore clothes like no other woman Lorena knew. She had a confidence that Lorena would never have.
Lady Lorena’s Spinster’s Society ( The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 15