by Darcy Burke
“A bit.” He felt slightly off balance. This was not the behavior of someone who loathed him. Perhaps she was trying to make the best of their marriage, as he was hoping to do.
She glanced toward the open neck of his shirt, and he could have sworn she blushed the barest amount. “You should go upstairs and clean it. Perhaps apply some of the salve you used on your hand.”
He was tempted to ask if she would help him, but that sounded rather like flirting, and he didn’t flirt. But he wanted to. With her.
She lowered her hand, and he was unaccountably disappointed. “That was very kind of you to allow them to keep their cat, especially after he wounded you.”
“Cats are cats. My mother used to let us tend the kittens at Woodbreak when we were children. I’d all but forgotten that.”
“How lovely,” she said softly, her eyes sparkling with warmth. Again, he was struck by her demeanor. How could he think she still hated him as she had in the beginning? “You like cats then?”
“I never gave it much thought—not in years. But I suppose I don’t mind them.”
“I love that he seems to be a family member for the Haddocks. I feel as if we caught a glimpse of who they really are today.” She glanced away briefly. “It makes you think about how we all put up a façade for the roles we play, whether we are in service or peers of the realm.”
She was talking about him. Did she see him as having a façade?
Or was she referring to herself? Was she now playing the role of happy countess in order to have a child?
Her gaze dipped to where her gloves lay on the floor. “I should be going.”
Constantine went to retrieve the accessories. When he handed them to her, his fingers brushed her hand, and the connection raced through him, heating his blood and quickening his pulse. Ignoring the sensations, he asked, “Where are you off to?”
“I’m visiting the modiste to pick up a ball gown. Then I shall pay a call on Mrs. Renshaw.”
“Do you have plans for this ball gown?” He wondered if it exposed as much of her back as last night’s ensemble.
“I thought I might wear it to the Hargrove ball on Saturday. Are you planning to attend?”
“I will now that you are.”
Another flash of surprise brightened her gaze. “Will we go together then?”
“I can’t see why not. If I’d known you were going to the rout last night, I would have accompanied you.” It was the courteous thing to do, and they were, for better or worse, married.
You want to go with her, a voice at the back of his mind whispered.
“I assumed you would be late at Westminster, as you so often are.” The typical stiffness of their dialogue had crept back after the ease of their earlier conversation. Because of a cat. Perhaps he should have Haddock find another.
Could that conviviality extend to the bedchamber? Or would things continue to be tense? Last night had been a slight improvement, but Constantine still felt as though there was a canyon between them. Perhaps he should consult with Lucien’s tutor. What harm could come from a meeting? As Lucien had said, they didn’t need to have sexual intercourse for Constantine to learn what he needed to.
“I can make accommodations,” he said with regard to accompanying her to events.
“Oh. I should not have assumed,” she said softly. “I’ll endeavor not to do that in future. Shall we make a point of sharing our social plans?”
“I think that would be beneficial. And don’t apologize. I have been too busy, and perhaps I should not be. I should have accompanied you to the rout last night, and I should not have left.”
She hesitated a moment, her eyes locked on him with perhaps a glimmer of disbelief in their depths. “I had Evie at my side.”
Evie. Evangeline Renshaw. “You have become quite friendly with Mrs. Renshaw. I didn’t even realize you knew each other. I will pay more attention to your friends and acquaintances.”
She arched a brow at him. “Why? So you can decide if they are appropriate?”
His eyes widened briefly. “Heavens no, why would you think that?”
Her lips parted, and she glanced away. “My apologies. I am used to my parents dictating everything I did, including who I could become friends with.”
“I understand,” he said wryly. “My father voices his opinion on nearly every aspect of my life.”
“He still does that?” At his nod, she added, “Well, I’m…sorry. He should recognize you are your own man and don’t require his opinion—or approval—about anything.”
Her support lit something inside him, spreading an unfamiliar warmth. “Yes, he should.”
“To answer your question, Mrs. Renshaw and I have only recently become acquainted. I like her a great deal. She’s been very helpful, particularly with my new wardrobe.”
“Then I shall thank her. The gown you wore last night was stunning. As is your walking costume.” He glanced over her but didn’t dare look too long lest he start undressing her in his head once more.
“I was afraid you didn’t approve of my dress last night.”
He heard the uneasiness underlying her tone and regretted his behavior at the rout. “I was surprised by it.” By you. “I apologize if my comments made you upset or uncomfortable. You must wear what you wish.”
“Even if it displays too much flesh?” The question was dangerously close to flirtatious.
Constantine still couldn’t bring himself to flirt in return. Because what if she wasn’t being coy? What if she was genuinely concerned? He wanted to alleviate any apprehension she may have. “I trust you to dress appropriately. I cannot, however, promise not to feel a strong possession if other gentlemen feast upon the display.”
Possession.
Her attention dipped to his open neckline once more, provoking another flash of longing. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmured.
“I need to go change before my racing club meeting.” He said this in response to his state of undress and also to prompt himself to go. Strangely, that was proving difficult. “Afterward, I plan to call on my father to discuss your becoming Cassandra’s sponsor.”
Her red-gold brows rose. “Thank you.”
“You’re certain this is what you wish? You’ll have to attend a great many events, and my father will be watching to see how Cassandra’s Season progresses.”
She hesitated, and he glimpsed conflict in her expression. “Yes, I’m sure. I want to do it.”
“Very well. I’ll speak with him and let you know what he says this evening. Shall we dine together then? I will not be at Westminster since it is Wednesday.” His lungs squeezed as he awaited her response.
Exhaling, she smiled. “That would be lovely.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. Mayhap she wasn’t just seeking a child at any cost, and there was more behind her new behavior. “Excellent, I’ll look forward to it.” He stood aside and gestured to the door. “After you, my lady.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t move for a moment, then took a final glance at his exposed neck and left the study.
Perhaps there was hope for them yet. Another reason to move things along with the help of a tutor. Constantine would send a note to Lucien immediately.
Chapter 9
Sabrina sat across from Evie at a round table in her drawing room. Her butler had placed a plate of biscuits and a pot of tea between them. As Evie poured their cups, Sabrina pulled an invitation from the Phoenix Club from her reticule. She’d received it earlier that day but hadn’t mentioned it to Aldington. It wasn’t that she’d planned to not tell him, but she’d been nervous about his reaction. Plus, with the Grayson situation, the issue hadn’t come up.
She’d been too distracted. Pleasantly so.
“Is that what I think it is?” Evie asked, setting the pot down.
“I think you know,” Sabrina said with a smile. “You must be the reason I received it. And Lucien, I should think.”
“We did recommend you. Highly.” Evi
e arched her brows playfully as she moved a cup toward Sabrina. “I’m so pleased the membership committee saw fit to extend the invitation, but I am not surprised.”
“Why? I realize I’m the wife of an earl, but he is not a member.” Even if he was the owner’s brother.
“Unlike other clubs, status, like gender, has nothing to do with whether one is welcome at the Phoenix Club. One’s individual character is far more important. The Phoenix Club is a haven for those who are more concerned with finding a place where they feel welcome and comfortable. Where they can be their true selves and not what Society expects or demands them to be.”
Sabrina hadn’t known the club served such a purpose. And it was all her brother-in-law’s doing. Why had she ever been intimidated by him? Because he was handsome and confident? That seemed so silly now. “Lucien possesses a surprisingly thoughtful nature.”
“He goes out of his way to help anyone, but that’s not what Society expects of him.” Evie stirred her tea. “I think that’s why he does it.”
“I admire that he is confounding expectations.”
“That’s what you’re doing too.” Evie’s mouth curved into a satisfied smile. “Aldington was rather flustered by you last night. Does he know about the invitation?”
Sabrina shook her head. “Since he is not a member, I assume he does not approve of the club. He’s rarely mentioned it and when he has, it’s been with disdain.”
“He has never been invited. That may be the true source of his derision.”
Now Sabrina was even more nervous about sharing the news with him. “How can I tell him I’ve been invited when he has not?”
“He can’t hold it against you,” Evie said firmly. “You’ve nothing to do with who is invited and who is not.”
While that was true, her concern came from more than that. “I don’t want to cause any strife between him and Lucien. They seem to struggle sometimes as it is, and I would hate to contribute to any difficulty.”
“You can’t feel responsible for their relationship. They’ll get on fine—or not—with or without you. Besides, it seems they have reached an accord as of late. In any case, I hope you plan to accept the invitation. I’d love for you to join me at the assembly on Friday.”
“I do, and I would enjoy that too.” Even if she was apprehensive about her husband’s reaction. The entire interlude with the Haddocks and the cat had been so lovely, as if he too wanted to find some harmony in their union. But then there was last night, which they’d rather neatly avoided talking about. “I shall have to think of a way to break the news to Aldington.”
“He won’t be angry, will he?”
Sabrina sampled her tea. “No, he doesn’t typically get angry. Frustrated perhaps, especially since I’ve returned to town.”
“Because he doesn’t know what to make of you.” Evie took a biscuit from the plate. “Oh, but his reaction at the rout was delicious. He hated that other men were flirting with you and perhaps that you seemed to enjoy it.”
“You really think he was jealous?” Was that the reason he’d come to her chamber last night? Could it be that he actually wanted her? Or did he merely feel a sense of possession because she was his wife? He’d used that word earlier, and it had provoked a sharp, primal response within her.
“He certainly seemed to be, or perhaps he thought you were provoking him.” Evie looked at her expectantly.
Sabrina certainly hadn’t done so on purpose. “I wasn’t flirting.”
“No? You sparkled with vivacity and charm. What’s more, you looked completely at ease.”
She hadn’t been. Inside, she’d been a tangle of anxiety. Laughing softly, she said, “Then I pulled off quite an act.”
Evie cocked her head. “Are you saying that wasn’t really you?”
“It was me. Rather, the new me. But it takes effort.” She realized it was akin to assuming a role on the stage, or what she imagined that might be like. It all took effort, and she was more than willing to do what was necessary to get what she wanted—a child. That was still her primary goal in all of this, and after last night, she needed more help. “Aldington visited my bedchamber last night,” she said softly, not quite meeting Evie’s gaze.
“My goodness, why didn’t you tell me that straightaway?”
“I suppose I am still rather embarrassed—or at least self-conscious—about the matter.” She winced inwardly as she recalled her behavior in bed, then grabbed a biscuit from the tray and took too large of a bite in order to avoid saying more.
Evie’s brows pinched together. “You’re feeling comfortable with yourself, yes? Your body, I mean.”
“Er, I thought so.” Sabrina frowned down at her teacup. “But when he was there and things were…happening, I was still incredibly nervous. I didn’t know what to do with him. With my…reaction.”
“What happened?”
Sabrina lifted her gaze. “I kept making noises, which seemed to bother him. Or at least surprise him. So I put my hand over my mouth to stop from doing it. And I didn’t touch him, and I should have. I did, however, have an orgasm.”
Evie didn’t exactly frown, but her brow creased with concern. “Well, the last part is an improvement, isn’t it?”
“Definitely, but it was still awkward. We seem to suffer from an inability to communicate our…desires.” Why was this so unbelievably painful to discuss? And it was even more difficult to do so with her husband—Sabrina couldn’t even summon the nerve!
“I think you may both benefit from a situation where your reticence can be set aside. As it happens, Lucien and I have come up with a plan that will facilitate this.”
Sabrina drank some tea to wash down the biscuit. Her mouth was suddenly drier than it was a moment ago. “I can’t even begin to comprehend what that could be.”
“Lucien has determined that Aldington has some sort of wall that he must break down with regard to you and sex. He’s suggested that Aldington work with a tutor to breach that wall.”
Sabrina was glad she hadn’t taken another drink of tea, for she most definitely would have swallowed it down wrong. “A tutor? Who would do that?” His mistress, perhaps?
Evie gave her a sly look. “You, but Aldington won’t know that.”
“Me?” Sabrina gaped at Evie. “I could never. I hardly know what to do.” As evidenced last night. “I’m an utter failure when it comes to him.”
“But you haven’t been in finding pleasure—you had an orgasm last night. This is progress! Now, you just need to allow yourself to respond. You must absolutely make whatever noises you want, and you should touch him. If he doesn’t know you’re you, would that make these things easier to do?”
The idea that she could act a role returned to her mind. When she’d put on the cobalt gown last night, she’d looked and felt like a confident, elegant countess, perhaps for the first time. It had helped her to actually have the confidence to not only attend the rout, but as Evie had said, sparkle. And when she’d donned the seductive dressing gown to entice Aldington, she’d looked like a woman who was eager for her husband to join her in the marriage bed, and again she’d felt more self-assured, even if it had been fleeting.
“He wouldn’t know it’s me, so I could be anyone…” Her mind chased that thought, conjuring things she might say—or do—to him if he didn’t know it was her. “Aldington agreed to this?”
Evie nodded. “I received a note from Lucien just before you arrived.”
He must have decided today then. Apparently, he’d seen last night as a failure too. A new wave of anxiety threatened to overwhelm her, but she refused to succumb. She wanted a child, and this was how she was going to get it.
“Who does Aldington think this tutor will be?”
“A former courtesan who is eager to help someone. And who enjoys sex.”
A laugh burst from Sabrina. “This will take quite a bit of playacting from me.” She paused. “Why isn’t his mistress performing this task?”
Evie shook
her head. “He doesn’t have one and apparently never has.”
Sabrina was surprised to hear this. Why had he not ever taken a mistress? “But now he’s willing to meet with a former courtesan?”
“Apparently he recognizes he needs help in how to seduce you. You needn’t have sexual intercourse with him or touch each other at all, really. You must simply play the role of an expert in these matters.”
Another laugh leapt from Sabrina. “Simply.” The wild scheme was beginning to take root in her mind. “You really believe I can do this?”
“I do.” Evie’s eyes glowed with conviction. “You have the book, you’ve discovered what you like, you even had an orgasm with your husband. Just focus on being assertive and letting down your guard.”
She was to give him lessons in seduction. There was something strangely arousing about being with Aldington without him knowing who she was. “I’m still trying to determine how this will work. And whether I can summon the courage—and skills—necessary to behave like someone who enjoys sex.”
“But you do,” Evie said simply. “Or you will, when you have more of it. You’ve enjoyed having orgasms, have you not?”
“Well, yes.” An unavoidable blush rose up her neck and into her face. “How is it he won’t know my identity? Is it to be pitch dark?”
“Mostly. He will also be blindfolded, so there will be no chance for him to see you. Just in case, you must also wear a mask, in case the blindfold slips at all.”
“I would have to disguise my voice, I would think.”
“Yes, that’s probably a good idea. Can you do that?”
“I think so. What if Aldington realizes it’s me?”
“He won’t, unless you think he might recognize your body when he touches you.”
A laugh bubbled inside her, but Sabrina didn’t let it out. “If he can, I’ll be impressed. When is this to happen?” She needed plenty of time to prepare.
“Tomorrow night.”
Sabrina had picked up her teacup and practically sloshed the remaining contents down her lap. Setting it back down with a clack, she gaped at Evie. “That’s too soon!”
