The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance)

by K. L. O'Keefe

  Leona leaned back in her chair, sighing. She turned her eyes to the window and saw the sun peeking over the horizon, signaling dawn. She’d stayed up the entire night watching over him, her mind begging for his recovery. The sun baked the sky red—the same color as Leona’s eyes, no doubt. She wasn’t accustomed to staying up as long as she did. Her eyes were so heavy, she felt like she had stones attached to the bottom of her eyelids.

  With a groan, Leona rose from her chair and shuffled to the other side of Tristan’s bed. She rolled into bed beside him, wrapping her arm around him as carefully as she could, because she didn’t want to hurt or disturb him. As soon as her head fell on the pillow, she couldn’t last another second.

  Even if the morning would hail bad news, she had to sleep.

  * * *

  A few hours later, a tap on the shoulder jolted her from her sleep. Leona sat up, her heart racing, her mind immediately remembering the reason for her anxiety. She wondered who tapped her—and she wondered what they had to say. She could feel her insides wrench with trepidation.

  She looked over her shoulder, only to find that it was, in fact, Tristan who had tapped her. He was sitting up in bed with a tray on his lap, balancing two bowls of soup. He smiled when he saw her.

  “I’m sorry to wake you, my love,” he said, “but I didn’t want the soup to get cold.”

  Leona rubbed her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing. “Tristan?!”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re…” She rubbed her eyes again, making sure she wasn’t hallucinating or stuck in a dream. “You’re… awake! How are you feeling?”

  “I’m doing rather well, all things considered,” he said with a chuckle. “Actually, the doctor was here just a moment ago. I told him to whisper, because I wanted to let you sleep, and--”

  “I would have wanted to be awake for that!” Leona gasped. “What did the doctor say?”

  “The fever’s gone, the wound’s closing… the doctor seems to think I’ll make it.”

  Leona clasped her hands over her mouth, stifling an excited trill. “Are you serious?!”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But I’m not that surprised. I thought everyone was overreacting a bit.”

  “Tristan!” She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him, nearly knocking the bowls of soup off the tray. “Oh, Tristan… I’m so happy!”

  “Don’t burn my lap, dear,” he laughed. “The soup’s still hot.”

  “You’re talking about soup? How can you act like nothing amazing just happened? You almost died!”

  “Not almost,” Tristan disagreed. “I came close, but to say I almost died is going too far.”

  “You made it sound like you had given up… you were telling Andrew to watch over me!” Leona reminded him. “You must have thought you were going to die, because you were saying the most terrifying things, and I was so scared of losing you, and now… to see you sitting up like this, looking healthy and handsome… it makes my heart want to burst with joy!”

  “Handsome?” He laughed. “Coming close to death must have done me some good, because I don’t recall ever being handsome.”

  “Stop making jokes!”

  Tristan moved the tray from his lap, wrapped his arms around Leona, and kissed the top of her head. “I’m so sorry you were worried. I was worried, too.”

  With a sob, Leona buried her head against his chest. “Don’t ever do that again, you stupid man!”

  “I love you, Leona,” he whispered into her hair, “I love you so much. I’m so happy to be here with you, saying these words to you…”

  Lifting her head, Leona tried to pull his shirt off his shoulder. She wanted a peek at his wound, but it was bandaged. “No more duels,” she admonished him. “That was so stupid of you.”

  “Yes,” he seconded. “Colossally stupid.”

  “And no more dying,” she warned him. “No more fevers, no more bleeding…”

  “Right,” he said with a nod. “No more of that.”

  “I know the doctors all say you have a weak heart, but that just means you’ll have to love me more and more to keep it strong.”

  “That’s easy,” he said, “because I love you more and more each day. No… I love you more and more each minute!”

  “Liar.”

  He wrapped an arm around her neck and made growling noises against her head. “I’m not lying! My love for you is immense. It’s indescribable. I’ll need to learn French to be able to express my love for you, as I’m sure they’re better at romance than we are.”

  Leona laid a finger against the bandage, caressing it gently. Tears sprung into the corners of her eyes, but Tristan leaned forward and kissed them before the tears could fall.

  As relieved as she was, she couldn’t help but fear the day when she’d wake up and he wouldn’t be sitting up in bed, waiting to tease her. She knew there would be a day when she’d find him, and he wouldn’t open his eyes. Her entire body shuddered at the thought.

  “Tristan?”

  “Yes, my love?”

  “I need you,” she began, “I need you in my life. I’m so happy everything happened as it did… and I’m glad I made all the mistakes I made, and I’m so happy to be sitting here with you right now. I never want to lose you. I never even want to come close to losing you. …Are you sure you’re alright? You’re not going to fall ill again a few hours from now, are you? Are you sure you’re well?”

  “If you’re asking me if I could sprint like a horse, I’m afraid the answer is no,” he said with a grin. “But if you’re asking if I’m feeling better, my answer is... very much so.”

  “Thank goodness,” she said. “Now… give me the soup. And both bowls, if you please. I’m terribly hungry.”

  Chapter Thirty Six

  “Alright, Andrew… umm… Andrew.” Tristan kept trying to get his friend’s attention, but it was no use.

  “You’re really going to live?!”

  “Yes, Andrew. …Andrew?” He tried to prod at the side of his friend’s head, but it didn’t work. Andrew wouldn’t release him. “Andrew, it’s getting a little awkward now,” he laughed.

  When Andrew walked in and saw Tristan sitting upright in his bed, he ran over and leapt on the bed, clung to Tristan’s feet, and started weeping like a baby. And he kept at it for at least ten minutes.

  “Are you sure you’re going to live?” Andrew repeated the question for the tenth time.

  “For the moment, yes. Now, let go of me. What if Leona walked in and saw you acting like this?” Lowering his voice, Tristan added, “Or worse yet… what if Mary saw you?”

  “Oh, God.” Andrew rose from the bed, his back curling upright like a sprout toward the sun. “You’re right. I’m acting like a baby.”

  “No, I understand. I’d be equally as distraught if you were in my position and I was in yours.”

  “You would?”

  “Of course.”

  Andrew threw his arms around Tristan, embracing him unabashedly. Even if it was unmanly, he didn’t care. He was thrilled to know he wasn’t going to lose his friend.

  Tristan gave Andrew a shove and laughed, “Right… I’d be distraught if I were you, because I’d be a man who was completely unable to win the affections of the only woman I love!”

  “Love?” Andrew returned the shove, momentarily forgetting his friend had just risen from a deathbed. “Who said anything about love? I don’t… love her.”

  “We’re talking about Mary, right?” Tristan asked with a roll of his eyes. “Of course you love her.”

  “I do not!”

  “Yes you do, actually.”

  Andrew stood up straight with his hands on his hips. “I do not!”

  “Keep telling yourself that. You might actually start to believe it.”

  “Well, let’s assume you’re right… let’s assume the thing you’ve been nagging me about for the last two weeks is actually true, and I do love Mary,” Andrew began. “What can I do about it?”

&
nbsp; “What can you do about it?”

  Andrew nodded rapidly. “Right. Yes. Hypothetically, of course.”

  “Hypothetically… you could do what any man would do in your situation.”

  Andrew waved his hand in circles, encouraging Tristan to continue his thought. “Which is…?”

  “You could do what any man in love would do… if he has any sense at all.”

  “Of course, none of this applies to my situation,” Andrew specified. “Anyway, how did the conversation turn to this? Once again, we end up talking about my petty dilemmas when yours are far worse.”

  Tristan clasped his hands behind his head, wincing a bit because his shoulder was still sore. “I haven’t a single dilemma in the world. I’m the happiest man alive, you know.”

  Andrew leaned forward inquisitively. “Really? The happiest.”

  “Yes. I have the best friend in the world, I love my wife, I’m going to be a father, and I’m alive,” he said. “What more could I possibly ask for?”

  * * *

  A feeling of relief washed over Andrew as he recalled Mary’s words. He remembered what she told him in the garden, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  Not long ago, Mary stopped him in the hallway to inquire about Tristan’s state. When she heard the good news, she looked genuinely pleased—but there was also a hint of promise in her eyes. He could see a hint of wickedness in her secretive smile.

  With a happy sigh, Andrew fell onto his bed. If he got his wish, if she was true to her word, Mary—his Mary—would finally submit to him. The woman he’d furiously pursued for the last several weeks of his life would finally succumb to him. He closed his eyes and tried to picture his hands on her body, molding to her curves. The mere thought made unmentionable parts of his anatomy stir to life.

  His pleasurable thoughts were interrupted by Tristan’s words, resounding in his head. For a moment, he was troubled by Mary’s feelings on the arrangement. Would she be happy with what he offered her? Would being his mistress make her unhappy? Andrew cradled his head in his hands, trying to banish the discouraging thought.

  As he sat on his bed, groaning and rubbing his face, another revelation dawned on him. But he didn’t have time to come to terms with it, because a knock on the door woke him from his reverie.

  “Uh…” He clenched his hands at his sides. “Come in…”

  It was Mary, just as he feared. She was already here.

  “Ah… Mary. Yes, uh… come in.” She took a few timid steps into the room, stalled by the hesitation in his voice. “And don’t you dare call me Mr. Lamb. It’s Andrew from now on, alright?”

  Mary smiled. He knew her too well, because she was about to greet him the unfavorable way. “Hello, Andrew.”

  “Hello.” Andrew raked a hand across his brow, surprised by the amount of sweat on his forehead.

  “Hello,” she repeated with a chuckle. “You… still wanted me to come, didn’t you?”

  “Of course I want you here. Mary… I, um…”

  “What?”

  Andrew chuckled at his nervousness. When had a woman’s presence ever left him so muddled? He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to sound foolish or rude, or do anything to scare her off. If it was any other woman, he’d be removing her dress in an instant. But this was Mary. He cared too much.

  Mary turned her eyes to the floor and nibbled on her fingernails, and he knew she was just as nervous as he was. He thought it was adorable.

  They were silent for what seemed like an eternity. Andrew started to wonder if her willingness was enough to satisfy him. He wanted a challenge, and he got one. Now that she seemed willing to share his bed, wasn’t that enough? Did he really want to take her purity? At the same time, he was terrified of voicing his thoughts on the matter. He didn’t want to dismiss her now, for fear that she might think his attentions had been nothing but a joke or a ploy. If she ended up thinking he didn’t really care for her, he could never forgive himself. The truth was--

  “Well,” Mary’s spoke again, interrupting his thought. “Now what?”

  Andrew took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Come closer,” he said.

  As demurely as ever, Mary tiptoed to his bed and sat at the end of it. She was like a child trapped in the body of a thirty-year-old woman. Her innocence made him more conflicted than ever.

  She folded her hands in her lap and waited for further instruction.

  “Come even closer.”

  She inched toward him, ever-so-slightly. With an impatient chuckle, Andrew reached over and seized her by the waist, pulling her close to him. He pulled her legs across his lap so she was practically sitting on him. “Is this alright?” he asked.

  Her slow nod tugged his heart.

  Andrew reached toward her and started plucking the pins from her hair, releasing her dark tresses from the tight bun on the back of her head. “I’ve always hated your hair like this.” Her brown hair floated over her shoulders as it fell. “It looks gorgeous like this.”

  “Mm.” Her face was as red and hot as a flame.

  Andrew took some of her hair in his hand, leaned forward, and breathed it in. “It smells delightful, too. I always thought it would.”

  Mary closed her eyes. She didn’t want to say anything to make him stop, but the fact of the matter was, being this close to him made her feel like she was going to swoon. He was the handsomest man in the world. Every time he touched her, it felt like lightning coursed through her body.

  Andrew ran a finger along her cheek. “I hate myself for being so cruel to you. I was a… and forgive me for saying this… a bastard back then.”

  “No you weren’t!” Mary laughed.

  “No, it’s true. I was,” Andrew overruled. He wrapped his arms around her knees, holding her in place. “I hope you know I feel much differently now. I care about you more than you know. Every time you walk into a room, it’s as if my entire body is crying out for you.”

  “That must be a very odd feeling,” she said with a chuckle.

  “You’re terrible. Don’t tease me.” He raised one hand, using it to capture the back of her neck. At the same time, he bent his head toward her, capturing her mouth with his. He suckled her lips, he had a taste of her tongue, and it was even more amazing than all the dreams he’d had of her.

  The kiss left her speechless.

  “Did you like it?” he asked, keeping his voice as gentle as he could. “Do you like kissing me?”

  “I did,” she confessed. “I liked it very much.”

  He held her hand in his, cradling it in his palm like precious glass. He felt like his heart was crawling out of his chest, desperate to protect and take care of her. As he stared at her hand, he couldn’t help but consider all the labor it had been forced to do. All the linens it had been forced to wash. All the dust it must have scattered. If it was up to him, she would never have to lift her pretty little fingers again.

  He wanted to give her that option.

  As if reading his thoughts, she asked, “So… tell me about this townhouse in London. What’s it like?”

  “Oh… it’s…” It took him a moment to figure out why she’d brought it up. “It’s rather large.”

  “That’s where I’ll be staying, right?” Mary asked, “when I’m your mistress?”

  Andrew’s eyelids fluttered. It was as if she’d twisted a dagger into his chest.

  “Oh… well…” Discouraged by his reaction, Mary’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t… I don’t have to be your mistress, I suppose. I just want to be with you, Andrew. If all we have together is tonight, I… I really won’t mind too much.”

  The dagger was thrust deeper into his chest.

  “Please don’t say you’ve changed your mind about me!” There was a hint of panic in her voice. “I want to be with you! I know I’m quiet and I know I’m not perfect, but… I’ve never done anything like this before. I wish you’d tell me what to do…”

  “Mary…” It was just one word, b
ut his voice was gravelly and sullen.

  “You still want to be with me, don’t you?” Fearful of rejection, Mary started to retreat from his lap, but he grabbed her and held her in place. “I thought… well… I kept worrying about what it would be like to be your mistress, and I kept worrying you’d tire of me someday, but now your silence is giving me all these new worries. I just wish you’d say something!”

  Andrew pulled her squarely unto his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing her as tightly as he could. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Mary. I don’t want to do this.”

  Mary whimpered. Her sadness settled around her heart like ice. She tried to fight her way off his lap, but he was holding her too tightly. “You don’t want me?” she shrieked, shoving his arms away from her, battling to twist herself free of him.

  Andrew burrowed his head against her shoulder and sobbed. His reaction, while curious, immediately calmed her fears.

  “Andrew, what’s wrong?” She gently caressed his head. “What’s wrong?”

  His arms tightened around her. He never wanted to let her go. “I love you!” he shouted. “I love you, Mary. I’m so sorry.”

  “You… love me?” she repeated slowly. “But why are you apologizing?”

  “Because I’ve been a fool this entire time, unwilling to admit my feelings to myself. I’ve belittled you, and I’ve hurt you, and I’ve acted like a damn fool.”

  Mary lifted his head so she could kiss his forehead, and was touched by the sight of tears in his eyes. “Andrew…”

  “Oh, how I love you!” he exclaimed. “I can’t even put into words how I feel… how I want to worship every inch of you and keep you close and give you everything in the world. All I want to do is cradle you in my arms and keep you with me forever. You talk about me tiring of you? You’re in more danger of tiring of me, because I want to be with you all the time and I can’t stand the thought of losing you!”