by Micki Miller
“Would the three of you care to join us?” Burke said.
Lady Prudence Hortence made a valiant attempt to hide her shock. Pru had never stepped so much as a toe over his threshold. Short of business, he rarely had visitors, and he never entertained. He kept his home a private sanctuary. All his sexual exploits, without exception, took place in the women’s beds. He’d never invited even one of them to share his.
“Brandy sounds lovely,” Lord Sennett said, answering for his trio, an unmistakable spark glinting in his eyes.
So, the man had not lost hope for this seduction for his wife. Lord Sennett must not have approached anyone else for the task. There was no reason for this to please Burke, yet it did.
Sennett placed his hand on the small of his wife’s back. If the displeasure she was unable to hide was any indication, the man would get an earful on the ride to Burke’s home. Burke struggled to keep the corners of his lips from rising.
“Yes, indeed,” Lord Da Ville added with a smile. “Splendid idea.”
Neither of the women were even close to happy with the change of plan. Beside him, Lady Hortence smashed the toe of her yellow slipper on top of his foot while her fingernails dug into his arm. Burke smiled through her quiet protestations, finding an inordinate amount of humor in the way Lady Sennett strained to mask her panic. Before she could summon a reason to cry off, though, the parties were all heading to their respective carriages. He hoped the lady would not invent an excuse to go home on the ride.
“We had plans for this evening,” Prudence said as soon as the carriage door was closed. She’d not yet even settled into her plush seat across from him before her hard-edged complaint bore into his ears.
“Our plan was to attend the opera. We have done so.”
Pru folded her arms across the ample display of her bosom. After but a few seconds, she pried open her tight lips to say, “I cannot for the life of me understand why you would want to spend time with them. Those men, there is something odd about the two of them. I can’t quite put my finger on it. And his wife—”
Before Prudence could besmirch Lady Rose Sennett, which he had no doubt she about to do, Burke said, “If you do not feel up to socializing tonight, I will have my driver deliver you to your house.”
Both her high-arched brows rose halfway up her forehead. Burke half hoped she would throw one of her fits and demand he take her home. After a moment he assumed she used for contemplation, weighing entrance to his house against sharing the evening with others, Prudence flattened her features and brooded in silence for the remainder of the ride.
Half an hour later, the five of them sat fireside in Burke’s gold parlor, named so for the gilt draperies hanging at each of the three tall windows and the broad, matching trim of the oriental carpet centered in the spacious room. Gold brocade adorned the backs of two pearl-white sofas. Shimmering gold thread wove through the pearl and black fabric of the eight chairs spread about the parlor.
When they’d entered the foyer with the white marble floor and crystal chandelier, Timmons, Burke’s trim, silver-haired butler collected their cloaks. After handing them to a maid, Timmons followed them into the gold parlor and saw to it each guest held a snifter of fine, French brandy, except for Rose who requested tea.
Rose sat on one of the sofas, flanked by Ashton and Lewis. Across the low, Chippendale table, on the other sofa, Burke sat with Prudence. They discussed the opera they’d just seen, followed with an exchange of some small pleasantries, during which they all consented to the use of their given names.
“So, tell me of the progress with the Foundling Project,” Burke said to his guests, though his eyes were on Rose. He wasn’t teasing her this time. He was in all truth curious, and caring more, now that he’d seen the condition of the ancient building the children called home.
“Rose, it turns out, is quite the business woman,” Ashton said with a proud nod toward his wife. “She not only procured the parcel of land we wanted, but managed to bargain it down to a reasonable price. The final papers are being drawn up and will be signed in a few days.”
“As I told you, Ashton,” Rose said. “Lord Darington deserves much of the credit.”
“Burke,” he said, reminding her to use his name. He liked the sound of it from her lips. Soft lips, according to his clear memory. Soft, sweet, malleable beneath his.
Lewis said, “Yes, Rose, but it was still you who secured the deal.”
“Here, here,” Burke said, raising his crystal glass in a toast. “To a new home for the children. To the woman who made it all possible.”
All but Rose sipped from their drinks. “You are all too kind,” Rose said, before shifting her eyes toward Burke. “From the start there’ve been many parties involved in this endeavor. I merely put to use the information you passed on to me.”
To Rose, Burke said, “What’s impressive is the clever way you made use of the information, Rose.” To Ashton he said, “Perhaps I should take your wife’s counsel on my next business venture.”
“If you are a wise man, you will,” Ashton said without a trace of anything less than sincerity.
“Rather masculine, isn’t it?” Prudence said from beside him. The point of her chin lifted above her stiff posture to the very verge of condescension. “Unseemly, even. A woman engaging in business matters? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Burke slanted a hard glance her way before saying, “Not at all, Prudence, dear.” He shifted his attention back to Rose, softer, intent. “I find it rather refreshing to see a woman make good use of her talents, rather than hide them for fear of appearing unfeminine.”
Burke did not need to turn toward his companion for the evening to know Pru was furious. He also found he did not care.
“Prudence,” Lewis said. “Have you noticed the sky on this clear night? The constellations are quite visible.”
Ashton stood and offered his hand to Prudence. “Yes, let’s see how many we can find, shall we?” At her hesitation, he added, “Nothing is as lovely as stargazing with a beautiful woman.”
Prudence gave him her shy smile, the one Burke knew she reserved for people who did not know her better, and took Ashton’s hand. The two of them followed Lewis to the tall windows on the far side of the room.
“I want to apologize,” Burke said to Rose. The remark surprised him more than it did her, he was sure.
Burke couldn’t remember the last time he made an apology. It wasn’t in his nature. He made good decisions, he answered to no one, and in all frankness, it was rare he happened upon a reason or situation where an apology was required.
Not that he regretted kissing her, or touching her. He wanted to do so, her own husband had requested such, and there was no doubt the lady had enjoyed herself. She’d not protested, not with words or with actions. Rose hadn’t shown a smidgeon of hesitation during their brief moment of passion. Quite the opposite. The moment she lifted her lips to his was a moment he would always keep treasured. What he didn’t like was the idea of Rose carrying any guilt over their mild indiscretion.
“Yes, well, I too behaved in poor manner,” Rose said on a quiet sigh. She flicked a backward glance to see the others engaged in conversation at the window. “Why don’t we both just pretend it never happened, shall we?”
“I’m afraid such a thing would be impossible,” Burke said.
She tipped her head, frowning a tad in a way he found utterly adorable. “I don’t understand.”
“A man doesn’t forget the sweetest wine he ever tasted, the loveliest sunset he ever had the good fortune to behold, or enchanted kisses from the most tempting woman ever to cross his path.”
Burke almost laughed at his own waxing. He’d never said such things to a woman before. Even if he could take it back, though, he would not. He meant every word.
Her pink-hued lips parted slightly, and even as he called his sanity into question, Burke longed to kiss her again.
She twisted her hands together once, twice, before s
hooting a glance over her shoulder to make sure none of the others listened in. “Lord Darington…”
“Burke.”
“Burke. What happened between us, what we did in your carriage, well, it was a mistake.”
Leaning in, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes boring into the blue depths of hers, Burke said, “Tell me you did not enjoy it.”
The moment the last word left his mouth, an adorable blush claimed her face. She sputtered before taking a sip of her tea. She set the cup on the saucer with a mild clatter, and folded her hands in her lap.
“Tell me,” he prompted.
“I…well…I…”
“The truth.”
After letting out a breath, she leaned in, too. It was apparent in the sternness of her expression, the edge in her voice, and the flicker of displeasure in her eyes, agitation had absolved her shame.
“Fine, yes, I enjoyed it. And don’t you dare grin. For a man with such an austere reputation, you certainly do grin a lot.”
No, actually, I do not.
“I will not apologize,” he said.
She grinned herself, then. “You just did.”
“Not for kissing you.”
“Then for what?”
“Because it left you feeling embarrassed about something as natural as life itself.”
Her gaze widened, before growing thoughtful. For a moment they sat there peering into each other’s eyes, thoughts churning, different, but only in accordance to the vast degrees of dissimilarity of their experience.
“Burke,” Prudence said at her approach to the sofa. “I’ve grown quite weary and I believe it’s time for me to retire.”
Rose stood. “Yes. I believe I’m ready to go home now, too.”
Burke summoned Timmons, who proceeded to dole out their coats. He helped Prudence into hers while Ashton did the same for Rose. At the street, where their carriages awaited, the group bid their farewells. Burke waited until his guests rolled away in their carriage before escorting Prudence toward his, where his coachman stood at attention.
She halted, tugging on his arm for him to wait. His feet stopped and he dragged his attention from his mind’s wanderings and gave it to Prudence.
“You know, Burke, we don’t have to leave. The night is yet young, and…” Pru finger-crawled up his arm and over his jaw. “I’ve never seen the inside of your bedchamber.”
It was like having a strong spider creep about his body. He took her hand, anxious to be alone with his thoughts. “I don’t share my bed. You’ve known that from the start, Pru,” he said. He nodded to his coachman, who then opened the carriage door.
Wandering ruminations stunted what little conversation they shared on the ride to her house. Her aggravation honed a sharp edge to what few words she spoke. At her door, Burke wished her goodnight.
“You’re not staying?”
“Not tonight, Pru. I’m tired.”
She slipped her hand beneath his long, unbuttoned coat, her fingers pulsing down his chest and over his belly. “I believe I can revive you,” she purred.
Burke took her wrist in a gentle but firm hold. “Another night, my dear.” Following a bare, passionless kiss on her cheek, he pivoted and strode down the paving stones.
As he walked back to the street where his coach awaited, Pru’s front door slammed, the message resounding in the otherwise quiet night. She was finished with him. That was fine. They’d run their course and they both knew it was time. He had no doubt Pru would have him replaced with a new lover in a fortnight, if not sooner. And he cared not a wit.
“I’ll be walking home tonight,” Burke told his coachman as he passed.
The coachman sputtered at this odd turn. “Do you want…sir, should I follow you?”
“No,” Burke answered, his pace never slowing.
Chapter 6
The rain had slowed to a light drizzle and thick rays of late-day sunlight succeeded at breaking through the cloud cover to chase off morning’s chill. An eastward breeze still blew with some strength, though it, too, was losing might. The world appeared pointed toward positive progress.
As soon as the carriage door enclosed them within, Rose and Lewis could shed their detached decorum. They clasped each other’s hands, laughing, before sharing a tight, congratulatory hug.
“The papers are signed; the deal is done. You did it, Rose!” Lewis said, as excited as she.
“We all did, all of the efforts of the committee, you, Ashton, Lord Darington. I really had very little to do with it.”
“Nonsense. The deal closed on the way you pled our case. In fact, I think you left Lord Cavendish in a bit of a quandary.”
“Whatever do you mean, Lewis?”
“I believe at this very moment the man is all in a lather trying to decide what to do first, dance with the bank draft we left him, or run about town bragging of his charitable generosity.”
Rose gave into full laughter, as did Lewis. When they calmed, Rose said, “There is so much to be done now. We still have enough to begin construction, but we’ll need to raise more money to finish the building.”
“You’ve a small committee to help. Now that we have secured the land, or rather, you have, I believe we can count on the ton to jump aboard whole-heartedly.”
“Oh, Lewis, do you think they will?”
“Undoubtedly! A charity ball is most favored. Extravagance and debauchery for a good cause, it’s catnip beneath their twitching whiskers.”
Rose laughed again, and threw another hug around her dear friend who returned her heartfelt affection in kind.
When they settled back, Lewis made an abrupt turn in the conversation. “So, you and Lord Darington seem to get on well.”
Rose blushed again, thinking of that kiss, that wonderful, shameless kiss. “Yes, he seems a fine man.”
“Very attractive, too.”
Rose cocked a brow at him. “Both you and Ashton certainly do sing his praises.”
“Well, if you don’t object to me speaking my mind…”
“Lewis, of course I don’t. You must know you are as dear to me as Ashton.”
He laid his hands atop hers.
“Ashton and I love you with all our hearts, and we both want nothing more than to see you happy. Life is so short, Rose, and positively overrun with trials.”
Rose touched a gentle finger to the scar on his forehead hidden by a fall of his soft, ginger hair. She and Lewis had both left their homes under such horrible conditions, and knew all too well the awful way their lives could have gone. They were both ever grateful at where fate had deposited them.
“I know,” she said.
Lewis took her hands in his and squeezed, pumping them once to stress his words. “Take your pleasures where you can, love. You know you have Ashton’s blessing.”
“Oh, Lewis, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“So, you’re considering it?”
A blush warmed her face as she sat back, folding her hands in her lap.
“Good,” Lewis said with encouraging emphasis at her unspoken answer. “All you must do, Rose, dear, is tell Lord Darington. He will take care of the rest.”
“I couldn’t!” Rose said at a near shout. “I wouldn’t know what to say. And even if I did, it all seems so sordid, so improper.”
“I used to feel the same way about my…myself. Ashton taught me propriety is a mere matter of perspective. In the end, as long as you’re not causing harm to another, there is no harm.
“You make it sound so simple.”
Lewis sighed. “Life struggles for simplicity. However, the whole of it can be quite wondrous. All one must do, is open oneself up to the possibilities.
“Like you and Ashton. Your views are much like my husband’s. Both of you keep such a liberal outlook. Is…is that how you and Ashton stay so happy?”
At the very mention of Ashton’s name, Lewis’s entire face lifted in joy. It then sagged a little at his recounting.
“When I first m
et Ashton,” Lewis said. “My family had turned their back on me. From a very early age, I believe, it was clear to them I would never live up to their expectations. I had money and a home, but my heart was desolate and they would never understand why.”
Lewis quieted. He swallowed, gave a slight shake of his head, and then continued.
“They put every effort into ‘correcting’ me. Women were presented to me like sweet cakes at a tea party, prettied and ready for courtship, almost on a daily basis. I did make an effort to please my family. It was torture, trying to be what I wasn’t. I thought I would live alone with my shame for the rest of my life.”
“Ashton has spoken to me of his loneliness before he met you. He says you saved him from a life of emotional isolation.”
Love’s joy misted Lewis’s eyes. “And here I am quite sure Ashton is the one who saved me. And you, dear, are a hero to us both.”
Taken aback, Rose said, “You two had already found each other. Perhaps I helped ease the living situation a bit, but hero is much an overstatement.”
“Not at all, dear. The way matters are now, I’m more than happy and my life is better than I ever dared to dream. Ashton would say the same. Your presence in the house, as his wife, has made it all much easier for both of us. Ashton never gave up hope we’d find a way to live together. Though your path to us was treacherous, and I’d not wish such a thing on anyone, we are ever grateful it led you to us. You came to our rescue, Rose.”
“I suppose we all rescued each other.”
“I suppose we have. So, in answer to your original question, yes, being open to possibilities allowed them a way in.”
The carriage slowed and then stopped in front of their home. The pair stepped out of the carriage and into the warming day, the wind, now little more than a stiff breeze. Small puddles remained on the ground, but they were already shrinking as they dried in the broadening sunlight.
The front door opened and Ashton made haste getting to the street. He must have been waiting for them at the window. The image brought a smile to Rose. Their home, filled with love and acceptance, was indeed a dream come true.
“It’s done, Ashton,” Rose said, throwing her arms around him. “The papers are signed. The land is ours!”