He took her hand in his. Her gaze snapped up, blue eyes narrowed, and she pulled away.
“You lied to me. You came to us under false pretenses, a false identity. You made love to me as another man! I gave you everything, and it all meant nothing.”
“I’m still me,” he said weakly, under the verbal onslaught. He was unprepared for this, for having to defend himself and his actions, but he shouldn’t have been.
“No, you’re a viscount,” she vented. “Someday to be an earl. You are not the impoverished tutor I thought you to be.” Those blue eyes were welling up with tears. “You took away my choice.”
Her choice. The unspoken significance terrified him.
“Bianca, you have to understand,” he said quickly, “I never meant to deceive you. I’ve tried to tell you again and again.” Her eyebrows raised but she was unmoved. “This whole mess . . . Reggie said your father would never let me woo you until your older sister was married. I just wanted a chance to get to know you.”
“There is a difference between getting to know me and deceiving me. Surely your goal could have been attained through more appropriate means.”
Her tone was cold, growing icier with each word. Though she still stood merely inches from him, she was distancing herself. He had to stop this, make her understand.
He ran a hand through his hair.
“But would I ever have gained such access? The midnight conversations? The rambling walks? It was Colburn’s idea and I stumbled after cautiously, but I am glad that I did. I love you, Bianca.”
“Blame it on Reginald, yes. How even more cowardly of you. So my father might reject your suit. You jump immediately to deception. What am I to think of the manner of man you are? How am I to entrust myself to you ever again?”
Ever again. He—no, Lucian Dore, impoverished tutor—had had her love. He was intensely jealous. Of himself, yes but no, not himself, of the role he had played.
“Do you have nothing to say?” she pressed and he opened his mouth to speak but she was already turning away.
“What have you embroiled yourself in, Asquith?” Bagley asked, joining Luc as he stared at Bianca’s retreating form.
“Love, cousin.”
“Really? A damnable way to go about it.”
With a sigh, Luc finally turned to Bagley and shook his hand. “Where did Thomas go?”
“The boy? I sent him off to watch the archery. Thought it for the best.”
“Thank you. I’d say it’s good to see you again but . . .”
“Ruined your plans, did I?”
Luc grimaced. Yes, in a way Bagley had, but he could hardly blame the man. He shook his head. “Though I’d appreciate your discretion for the time being, no. The one who made the mistake is me.”
He had professed his love before. And when she had heard those words last, her heart had melted inside her body, she had glowed from the warmth of them. Now, she felt a wrenching despair, a mixture of pleasure and pain. She was angry with him. He didn’t seem to understand how devastating this betrayal was. How it changed everything. He has taken away her choice, just as Kate had. With this betrayal, his love became a prison as much as her life had ever been. If only he understood, perhaps she could forgive him.
Forgive? She shook her head at her ridiculous thoughts. Nothing made sense at all.
She stalked away from them, reaching the gaggle of guests even as she realized that among the crowd was the last place she wanted to be. She spotted Alice and instinctively headed toward her friend.
“Might I steal you away a moment?” she asked, even as she forcefully dragged her friend away from her conversation with the Stanbury twins.
Bianca marched her across the lawn and ushered her behind the hedgerow to where a marble bench provided a picturesque view of the pond in the distance.
“I’m in trouble,” she stated. Alice, in the middle of settling herself on the bench, shot her a doubtful glance.
“The tutor? I told you nothing good could come of letting yourself fall in love with him. Evil as Kate is, you will not be isolated here forever.”
“But I am in love with him,” Bianca objected before she remembered that at that very moment she was not quite in love. She was far too irate. Still, she had to fill Alice in on all the events of the last three days. “I let him . . . take liberties.”
Alice’s shocked gasp sent a hot blush to Bianca’s cheeks.
“He asked me to marry him and I said yes. We were planning to elope.”
“Where did my level-headed friend go? You have never been the impetuous, reckless one. Always telling me when I’m being ridiculous.”
“I know.” Bianca moaned. She was an infuriated, confused mess. “I just . . . at first I thought him forward and odd. Then I realized he was shy and sweet and utterly charming. And now . . . now I think him a complete cad!”
“What happened?” Alice demanded. “Not that taking liberties isn’t caddish behavior, but clearly you approved of those.”
Bianca blushed again. Just the mention of those liberties filled her head with wicked images, with erotic memories that were better forgotten because never again would she feel his hands on her, his mouth . . . oh, dear Lord, his mouth!
“He . . . he lied to me!”
Bianca sat on the bench, as well, and buried her head in her hands, overcome by a new emotion. It was all so embarrassing. Perhaps he was not the dancing master but the whole abysmal situation was nearly as bad.
“Bea? What did he lie about? Is he already married?”
“No!” The idea was so shocking, Bianca sat up. “No, he lied about who he is! He’s not a tutor. Not even remotely. In fact, I’m quite certain his family would be shocked to learn he had taken up such an employment. A future earl working as a common servant?”
Alice choked. “Future what?”
“You heard me. Earl. Mr. Bagley, you met him the other night, is his cousin and recognized him. I cannot tell you how embarrassing that moment was. I had to beg him not to say anything to anyone else. If anyone will unmask the fiend, it will be me. And I’ll make him pay first.”
“Mr. Dore? Heir to an earldom?”
“Not Dore. Dorlingsley! Viscount Asquith. Heir to the Earl of Finleigh.” Alice’s eyes widened and Bianca shook her head. “Stop gaping about the fact that he’s titled. Can you believe the effrontery? To make love to me under an assumed name? To trick me in such a way?”
“Bianca.” Alice shook her head in disbelief. “You’re going to be a countess!”
“Hah. As if I’d marry a man who deceived me so.” Bianca paced the length of the room, her fury growing again as she fed it with righteous indignation.
“You mean you would have eloped with a poor tutor of no family and no living, but you would reject him because he’s a future earl?”
Put that way, in Alice’s reasonable tone, it all seemed so ridiculous. Bianca giggled. “Yes?”
“No.” Alice shook her head, laughing, too. “No, you will not reject him. I was wrong when I said nothing good could come of this. At least you were compromised by a quite eligible man.”
“How did he manage to go incognito? How did the servants not gossip? Did no one in the Colburns’ household other than Reggie know his true identity? And Reggie! That mischief-maker. He vouched for Luc.”
“That is curious. Oh, another positive aspect is that your father can hardly reject his suit now, can he? He ruined you, after all.”
Could her father reject Luc’s suit? Nothing had been done that was irreparable.
“He did take your virtue, right?”
“No, not that I didn’t want him to. He refused.”
“How gentlemanly?”
They giggled again. It was good to have told Alice. She made everything feel lighter, manageable. Bianca was not trapped in another prison of Kate’s creation. Luc has been misguided, to be sure, but she had no doubt that he did love her. Therein lay the difference.
“Perhaps you are right. Perhaps
nothing matters but that I love him. And his title might sway my father’s stubborn mind.”
Alice grinned. “All’s well that ends well, right?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
* * *
Luc searched for Thomas, but when he saw the boy by his mother’s side, he didn’t approach. He needed to think. And what if Thomas had said something to his mother about the scene he had witnessed? He ran through the conversation. Unless Bagley had said something else after Bianca and Luc had walked away, there was nothing incriminating said.
He wandered behind the chairs set up to view the archery competition. He watched Frederick Graughton prime his bow, but his thoughts were far away.
It hardly mattered what Thomas did or did not say. Soon everyone would know. He couldn’t pretend anymore. Bianca was right, and though he had known the deception to be a foolish idea from the start, when it seemed to work, he had stifled his misgivings. Enjoyed falling in love and receiving love in return. But he’d taken advantage of her, in the greatest possible way. Even if he couldn’t regret his actions, he knew they had been wrong. But if he lost her he would regret them forever.
He wouldn’t lose her.
He’d beg her forgiveness and somehow, she’d come around.
He looked up. Saw Mr. Mansfield in the distance and suddenly his mind cleared. It was time.
Mr. Mansfield was pouring himself a glass of punch when Luc approached. There was a footman at one end but otherwise the area was currently unoccupied.
“Mr. Dore,” Mansfield greeted him jovially. “Enjoying the afternoon?”
Luc tried to force a smile and failed. “Might I speak with you in private, sir?”
“What is this long face?” Mansfield said, clapping him on the back. “Is my son being naughty? Do say yes. He is too quiet and well-behaved for his own good. When I was a boy—”
“No, sir. I regret to inform you that all is well with your son.”
“Oh.” Mansfield frowned and then gave Luc a more considering look. “Is something amiss?”
“I am.”
“You are giving your notice?”
“I suppose I am in a manner of speaking.” He looked about. Other than that footman several feet away the area was still clear. “I . . . Dore is not my name. I am Dorlingsley. Of the Sussex Dorlingsleys.”
“Relation to the Earl?”
“His only son.”
Mansfield was silent, but his fingers drummed on the table. Luc had come to know this meant he was deep in thought.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to court Bianca.”
Mansfield’s patient visage darkened quickly. “That is the one answer I will not tolerate,” he said, slamming his glass down on the table.
“My intentions are honorable.”
“Then why not approach me like a man? Why steal into my home under a cover of lies? And Lord Reginald! That fiend.”
“I am deeply sorry, sir. I never intended disrespect or . . . I simply didn’t think of the consequences beyond—”
“You are the sort of man who gives young noblemen a bad reputation. Gadding about, doing as they wish, no care for anyone else.”
Luc flushed. He had heard that slur against the aristocracy before but had never considered it an apt descriptor of himself.
“And what of my son?” Mansfield continued, working himself up into a florid rage. “I trusted you with him. In my home! I should call you out for this.”
“Mr. Mansfield, please, I know I am deserving of all your ire, but I love your daughter. I want nothing more than to make her my wife.”
Mansfield paused, breathing heavily. His eyes narrowed on Luc.
“I am furious, Mr.— Lord Asquith, and I am currently hosting a party. Now this scandal. What will people think?”
“No one knows. Other than Bagley, but he’s my cousin.”
“Other than Bagley,” Mansfield repeated. He took a deep breath. Seemed fractionally calmer. “I don’t know whether to throw you off my property or introduce you to the guests. You’ve put me in a very difficult position.”
Mansfield’s growing calm gave Luc hope and he pressed his point.
“Accept my suit. Grant me Bianca’s hand.”
Mansfield looked down at his desk, ran his fingers across the wood surface. “She loves you?”
“Yes,” Luc said fervently, and then sucked in his breath. “At least, she did. Before she learned that I was not who I said I was.”
Mansfield’s jaw was tight. A muscle ticked in his cheek. Luc watched its regular throbbing with anxiousness.
“What a foolish girl. And all this time I thought Kate was the problem and here I have mischief beneath my very roof. Oh, the pain of being a widower.”
“You’ve remarried, sir.”
“But my daughters are motherless nonetheless.”
Luc shook his head.
“I know I’ve gone about this backward, Mr. Mansfield. And I beg your forgiveness, but I was told that you would never let me woo Bianca until Kate marries.”
Mansfield looked angry again. “All I want is a peaceful home. To grow old amongst the things and people I love.”
“All I want is to be able to live my life.”
They both turned at Bianca’s voice.
“You are living your life—”
“In Kate’s shadow! No, not even in her shadow because most of the year she is flitting about doing all the things I can only dream of. I’m almost twenty, Father. I should have had my Season.”
“And you will.”
“I. Am. Tired. Of waiting!”
Fury made the edges of Bianca’s vision a dusky red. She was still mad at Luc, but she was more so at her father, at the situation that his cowardice had created. And she was mad at fate, at losing her mother, at nearly losing her brother. Angry that everything she held dear was either taken away from her or proven to be false.
“Now, now, Bianca,” her father said nervously, looking about. “You must calm down. You are my sweet, biddable daughter.”
Hearing him voice the long-unspoken thoughts infuriated her even more.
“Sweet? Biddable? I am neither of those things. I merely never had anything for which I cared about enough to fight. But now I do.”
“Bianca.”
“Do you give your blessing, Father?” she pressed spitefully.
“For the sake of peace in my home, I cannot. A secret engagement until Kate is betrothed, yes.”
“No.” The word felt beautiful. Powerful. Bianca wanted to say it again and again. “No secrets. I intend to marry Luc. Now. As soon as possible. And I do not care a fig for what Kate wants. If she wishes to have a fit here in front of all her guests, that is her choice and reflects only on herself.”
“No.”
But it was not her father’s no that mattered.
“You’ll regret this,” she warned. Then she shot a look at Luc before taking off for the house. His expression was one of wonder, and it nearly made her laugh. Had her anger made him regret his proposal? Perhaps all of this would have been for naught. But the thought was more tinged with angry amusement than true fear.
As she had hoped, Luc stopped her halfway across the lawn.
“So you forgive me,” he said eagerly, taking her hands in his own.
“No, I don’t,” she corrected.
“But you’ll marry me.”
“Maybe.” It was petulant, she knew, but he deserved to suffer a bit.
“But you said to your father . . .”
“Because I am tired of being told what to do! Of being forced to wait for Kate. If there were some good reason, well then, I am reasonable, but this is just her selfishness and cruelty.”
“Bianca, forget about Kate. Forget about your father. Forget about my stupidity. All that matters is if you love me as I love you.” His expression and tone were earnest. She knew he loved her.
She blinked, and was surprised to feel wetness on her lashes. Her anger was seeping away an
d what was left was a shaking exhaustion. She wanted to do all that he said, but how?
She nodded slowly. His expression lit up like fireworks. A little answering spark rose inside her.
“So we’ll do it,” he said. “We’ll keep the engagement secret and do our best to get Kate married off sooner than later.”
“No,” Bianca returned, because love him as she did, she would not back down. “We’ll marry as soon as possible, or I won’t marry you at all.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
* * *
In the two months that he had known Bianca, Luc had fallen in love with her, again and again, each time some new facet of her revealed itself to him. Now he was seeing the wronged goddess, intent on victory. It was astonishing and, admittedly, a tiny bit scary. It was also incredibly arousing, and in between the plans that she repeated to him just one more time, he kissed her neck, her ears, her shoulders.
He knew very well this new plan was not wise, but neither had been his initial deception. And something had to happen. Thus far Mansfield had said nothing, and Luc did not know if his identity would be revealed, if he would continue the pretense of tutor at least until the part was over, or if Mansfield would throw him out.
But Bianca was forcing everyone’s hand and Luc was willing to let her.
After all, this new plan allowed him to kiss her, here in the privacy of the library, in the quiet hour when most of the guests were dressing for dinner.
“We’ll go to Paris for our honeymoon,” he whispered, interrupting her worried commands. She fell silent and he continued, “Then Vienna.”
“Firenze,” she said.
“Yes, and Venice. Wherever you wish to go.”
“I do love you, Luc.” The words were soft, the way her skin was soft beneath his fingers.
A burst of laughter resounded from the hallway. Footsteps.
This was it. No turning back.
She pressed her lips to his and he forgot his thoughts.
Until the door flung open and sharp gasps pierced the air. Despite being prepared, Luc’s body tightened with tension.
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