He bowed. “I am honored. What sort of fete are you planning?”
“The very best sort—an intimate one.” She raised her eyebrows as if trying to imply something. “Only our closest friends will be there, which is, of course, why you must come. I know how intimate you and Lila are.”
Her tone had the same insinuating quality as her expression, and the combination made him uneasy. She seemed to imply that she knew some secret about them—perhaps that they had traveled together. Had Lila been foolhardy enough to reveal that? If so, she probably didn’t realize her cousin would presume more had happened than what in fact had.
“You needn’t look wary,” she said. “Naturally, I am the soul of discretion.”
“Naturally.” He tried to erase all expression from his face. She did seem to believe he and Lila were lovers, but he wondered what her purpose could be in flaunting her knowledge to him. Was she threatening him?
Her smile widened. “I imagine that since she has been staying with me, you two have been quite impatient for some time alone. Well, I promise you shall have an excellent opportunity tomorrow evening.”
For an instant, the image she conjured sizzled in his mind...Lila in his arms, under his mouth once again—until he drilled his thoughts back to reality.
Felicity didn’t mean to threaten him, he noted, but to conspire. And the evening she had in mind sounded like a wild one. He wondered if the antics might prove enough to open Lila’s eyes about her cousin.
They just might...especially if he attended and spurred along the sort of carousing he suspected could occur. With the right encouragement, he had no doubt Felicity would expose the all the excesses of her character.
“What time shall I come by?” he asked.
When she smiled this time, he was able to match her expression. His plan excited him—though perhaps part of his exhilaration came from the idea of holding Lila again, still burning in the back of his mind.
He would have to be careful with how far he took his strategies. The trick was to lead the rest of the party into indiscretion without leading Lila–and himself.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lila took a last nibble of dessert and set down her fork, glad she’d managed to finish without a crumb escaping to her lap. Though she had tried to refrain from borrowing another gown, the purple velvet creation Tess had urged upon her had proved too tempting, especially when her new friend declared the color lent her eyes a violet cast. She had always found her black irises so colorless.
“I see that everyone has finished.” Felicity dropped her napkin on her plate and rose. “Will you gentlemen stay here for your port, or would you care to withdraw with the ladies?”
Lila stood along with the others, pausing to adjust the neckline of her dress. She had never taken much interest in fashion, but she loved the way the velvet cascaded from her shoulders like the drape of a Greek caryatid. The effect even emphasized the moderate curves of her body. She had never before felt so feminine.
“Mr. Wyndam?” Felicity asked.
Lila glanced up to see Tristan direct his gaze away from her and toward her cousin. Apparently she wasn’t the only one taking notice of her new femininity, and the knowledge gave her more pleasure than she would have expected. She had never striven for femininity—being female had so often seemed a disadvantage. But it occurred to her now that in believing so she had played into a false premise, sustained by a male-dominated society.
Starting this moment, she vowed she would let herself enjoy her sexual identity.
“I see no reason to stand on ceremony,” Tristan said. He, too, had dressed to the nines, his bottle-green jacket providing the perfect foil for his chestnut hair.
Lest she be caught staring as well, Lila picked up her champagne and looked into her glass. She truly would miss Tristan when he left Paris, presumably any time now, since he had completed his business here. This evening could be the last she would share with him for a long time.
“Count Goldoni?” Felicity asked, addressing her own dinner partner.
A well dressed Italian with thick, dark hair graying at the temples, Domenico Goldoni smiled at his hostess. “Why would we want to waste a single moment away from such lovely creatures? Pray allow us to take our port with you this evening.”
Her eyes sparkled like emeralds. “How could we deny you?”
Lila looked on with amusement, the warmth she already felt radiating through her body. Romance seemed to be blossoming between the pair, and if her cousin could be happy with this man, she wished them all the best.
“Everyone else agree?” Felicity scanned the others’ faces.
The count paused to translate for his friend, Signore Giuseppe Rapallo, who listened with vigorous nods, while Tess appeared unaware of any question, studying her fingernails.
Lila responded with a grin. “You know how I feel about convention.”
“Excellent.” Felicity picked up her drink, and the count moved to her side to escort her. As they started out of the room, she said over her shoulder to the others, “I have a parlor game for us to play, and I cannot wait to begin.”
Signore Rapallo drifted up alongside of Tess, and Lila captured Tristan’s arm, enjoying the firm feel of his arm, even through the woolen sleeve of his jacket.
“Do you know what game we are to play?” he asked her as they followed the rest into the drawing room.
She shrugged. “Perhaps charades or another acting game, so our foreign speakers won’t be disadvantaged.”
Felicity directed them to sit near the hearth on a settee that proved a bit of a squeeze for two people. While Lila secretly savored the sensation of Tristan’s thigh grazing hers, Tess and the signore settled on an adjacent recamier. Felicity and her escort took their places in two armchairs pulled closely into the group. Parson’s tables, complete with inkwells, had been placed by each of the couples’ seats.
“This is cozy,” Lila said, accepting a glass of ratafia from a maid with a tray of drinks.
A footman, borrowed for the evening from the count’s staff, served the men their port, while a second resident maid provided each person present with a sheet of parchment and a quill.
The servants exited and Felicity pressed her palms together with anticipation. “The game I’ve chosen is designed to acquaint us all with each other. Since some of us are complete strangers, while others know each other intimately, I thought this exercise would be particularly helpful in equalizing our relationships.”
Tristan rubbed his chin. “Sounds like a surprisingly productive game.”
His interest surprised Lila. Perhaps he saw this as an opportunity to learn more about her cousin. The idea appealed to her, too. She looked to Felicity. “I think it’s a grand idea. Even you and I are sorrowfully lacking in knowledge of each other. How do we play?”
“It’s quite simple.” Felicity moved her chair closer to the count’s and slid one of the parson’s tables up against their knees. “One of us will pose a question, then we shall all take a moment to consider and write down an answer. Once everyone has had sufficient time, we will work around the circle sharing our thoughts. I know the game sounds as though there is nothing to it, but Tess and I have played before, and the discussions always grow quite intriguing.”
The count offered a quick Italian explanation to his fellow countryman, then looked back to Felicity. “What sort of questions does one pose?”
She gave him a wide grin. “Any sort one likes, Domenico. Perhaps Tess will oblige us by starting.”
“Certainly.” Tess brushed a dark curl back behind one ear, revealing a lobe bedecked with a glittering diamond. “We’ll start with something basic. My question is: What is your all-time favorite literary work?”
Domenico interpreted and everyone picked up their quills, but Lila sat for a moment, trying to decide between several choices. Though A Vindication of the Rights of Woman had solidified many of her strongest beliefs, she wouldn’t exactly apply the term “favorite” to
such a pensive work. And while she had found the theme of Frankenstein fascinating, she feared choosing it might appear suspect, since she had met the author the previous evening. She thought of another novel she had read and loved half a dozen times, but it seemed somehow not significant enough to pick, too romantic.
“Is everyone ready?” Felicity asked.
“In a second.” Lila scribbled down the last title and returned her quill to the table. “That will have to do.”
Her cousin beamed. “Lila, why don’t you go first, since you were the last to finish?”
“Oh, dear.” She grimaced and took a sip of the sweet, almond-tinged ratafia to wash down her shyness. “Well, I daresay I should have picked a more consequential work, but the truth is that I have read this book several times and enjoy it more with each read. I chose Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.”
“You did?” Tristan asked, while the women gushed their approval and the Italians worked on translating the title. He looked amused. “Is that not a little...conventional for you? I mean, marriage is a strong theme in the book.”
He had struck upon the chief reason she had hesitated in her choice. She twisted her mouth in thought. “Yes, but the conventional aspects don’t ruin the story.”
“So Lila is more romantic in nature than you believed,” Tess said to Tristan. “You see how useful this game is? You have learned something about her already.”
Tempted to argue but not sure she had sufficient grounds, Lila held back and took another draught of ratafia. “Let’s hear what book Tristan selected.”
He smirked and turned his parchment for her to read.
“Pride and Prejudice!” She broke into laughter.
Tess lifted her eyebrows. “So you are a romantic as well.”
He bowed his head in consent. “I have a soft spot in my heart for Elizabeth Bennett. I like a woman who is willing to revise her opinion after weighing all the evidence.”
“Is that so?” Lila knew even before he shot her a sideways glance that he referred to the evidence he wanted her to weigh—but she felt too merry to be annoyed by his hint. She pursed her lips, still smiling. “Don’t forget that Mr. Darcy dismisses his first impression, as well.”
“And they end up the most well matched couple in the universe,” Felicity said, holding up her drink in a mock toast. She caught the count’s eye, and he clinked his glass against hers.
Observing the exchange, Lila felt a pang of longing for that sort of playfulness. She looked at Tristan and found him watching her again. This time he didn’t turn away but gazed back at her, his expression serious. Did he think they would make a well matched couple?
Her smile faltered, and she couldn’t seem to look away from his eyes. Of course, they couldn’t be a couple at all—but the longer they stared at each other, the more convinced she became that he contemplated the possibility. His gaze felt so intense. She believed if they had been alone, he would have kissed her, a notion that jabbed her with longing. To be alone with Tristan again. She wondered if she could seize one last chance for such a meeting before he left for London.
Felicity’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “What did you choose, Domenico?”
“Another romantic selection, though I have no shame in my preference.” He gave her a long, slow smile. “Petrarch’s sonnets to Laura.”
“Love poems,” she murmured.
He nodded. “What is your choice, caro?”
“A naughty one.” She bit her lower lip. “Roxana by Daniel Defoe.”
Lila heard Tristan snort beside her and looked at him with curiosity. “I am not familiar with Roxana. Is it a novel?”
“Yes,” Felicity said, breaking a mutual stare with the count. “A story about a woman who lives her life to the fullest. You would like it.”
Signore Rapallo made his first attempt of the evening in English, addressing Tess. “You choose?”
She smiled and lifted her parchment, as if she needed to read her selection. “Another naughty one, I am afraid: The Decameron by Boccaccio.”
“Boccaccio?” With a peal of laughter, he turned his answer toward the rest of the group. “Il Decameron” was scrawled across the top.
Tess, Felicity and the count all laughed heartily, and Tristan leaned closer to Lila, one eyebrow raised. “Are you familiar with that one?”
She shook her head, beginning to feel naive.
“You would find it amusing,” her cousin assured her, still giggling. “A group of noblemen hiding from the Black Death divert themselves with bawdy stories.”
“Really?” Lately, the subject of sex had haunted Lila’s mind more and more. Gathering that the others present were all more sophisticated than she in this realm, she felt foolish. “I shall have to read it.”
The other women gave her wide grins, and the men must have worn similar expressions, though she didn’t dare check. Instead, she sipped her ratafia. “Who else has a question?”
After an instant’s hesitation, Tristan said, “I do.”
Lila looked at him, reminded that he likely had an ulterior motive for playing. She wondered what sort of topic he would introduce. Surely he wouldn’t strike too close to the matter of her cousin’s morals.
Felicity lifted her drink and leaned back in her chair. “Ask away.”
“I am not certain I should.” He glanced at Lila, then turned back to her cousin. “My topic may be a bit indelicate, but given the last answers, I am curious...”
Lila nearly choked, fearing he would indeed ask about Rebecca.
Felicity, however, appeared no less than delighted. “We are among friends. Ask what you will.”
“Yes, please,” Tess said. “In fact, the preface to your question makes me curious.”
“Lila?” he asked, peering at her from the corner of his eye.
After the other women’s comments, objecting would make her look even more naive than she did already. Besides, she had a natural resistance to showing trepidation. She lifted her chin. “I am intrigued.”
“Good.” He gave the other men an almost sly look. “I think my Italian counterparts can appreciate this. My question is: What setting would you consider the best place to make love?”
Lila’s mouth fell open, while everyone else laughed and murmured translations to Signore Rapallo.
Tristan now avoided her gaze, looking down to pick up his writing materials.
As the others quieted and followed his example, she shook off her shock. At least he hadn’t asked about Rebecca—but, good Lord, what a question. And she had to think of an answer!
Surprisingly, one came to her immediately.
In a way, it was a “naughty” one, but once in her head, she could think of nothing else. Seeing that everyone else had begun writing, she lifted her quill and followed suit.
“Would you like to start again, Lila?” Felicity asked.
She set down her quill but shook her head, both excited and shy about her answer. “You start this time.”
“Very well.” Her eyes gleamed as she peeked over her parchment at the count. “I chose a villa on the Italian Riviera. I picture a bedchamber with windowed doors opening out onto a veranda. Beyond it, morning mist clusters over the water...”
“Che bella,” the count said, smiling back at her. After lingering a moment, he broke away to interpret for his friend.
Lila sighed. “What did you choose, Count?”
He laughed. “A similar motif to your cousin’s. I would like to make love in a gondola in the Grand Canal in Venice.”
Signore Rapallo snorted, clearly able to pick out the chief words. He waved a dismissive hand and said something in Italian.
The count grinned at him, then said to the rest of the party, “Giuseppe declares my choice commonplace. He chooses no less than the master chambers in the Doge’s Palace.”
“Grand,” Tess said, casting an admiring look at her partner.
Lila had to agree. A yearning little knot began to twist inside of her. All
of the ideas tantalized her, but she would never make love...anywhere.
Tess looked down at her paper. “I am afraid my choice is not quite so magnificent. My favorite spot for lovemaking has always been on a big bearskin rug on a hearth, though I suppose a bearskin rug in the Doge’s Palace would be finer than one in my own chamber.”
She grinned at Giuseppe while his friend interpreted for him, and Lila noted the phrasing of her declaration. Tess had actually lived her fantasy. She, as well as Felicity, had experienced lovemaking. Lila was the only one who had not—the only one in the room, no doubt.
Her focus shot to Tristan’s face, though he sat watching the rest of the party. She had to assume he’d had women before, as sexual experience didn’t stigmatize men. Nay, in this world, remaining inexperienced was the disgrace for them.
The knot inside her tightened with envy of the unknown women who had known his body the way she wanted to. She felt cheated and victimized by her place in society. It was all so unfair!
She moistened her lips. “What did you choose, Tristan?”
He looked at her, solemn rather than capricious like the others. “I’ve always wanted to make love within a stone circle. An ancient structure so mysterious, seemingly impossible—almost magic in its very existence—seems a fitting complement for the ultimate human expression.”
She stared back at him. For a moment, they were the only
two people in the universe.
“Bravo,” Tess said. “Do we have stone circles in France? Lila, if I were you, I would seize him now and be off posthaste to find one.”
Lila looked at her, surprised to hear someone encouraging the preposterous compulsion she felt. Taking in the other woman’s soft smile, she got the impression Tess meant what she had said.
“No, no,” Felicity said. “Before you two run off, we must hear Lila’s answer.”
Lila turned to her and saw that she wore the same satisfied smile as her friend. Both these women had experienced lovemaking out of wedlock. The prospect of her doing the same didn’t shock them.
For the Love of Lila Page 13