“So do you.”
Lucy smiled, but the smile failed to reach her eyes. “I had all I ever I wanted once. It was enough, it was…” She paused, a faraway look entering her eyes that pinched at Jane’s heart because she knew precisely where her friend was, knew who filled her heart, her head, her very soul.
“I had enough joy for a lifetime,” Lucy murmured, blinking rapidly before turning her attention back to Jane’s buttons. Finished, she helped Jane step from the gown.
A lump formed in Jane’s throat at the memory of Lucy’s daughter, a sweet-faced little girl that had loved to chatter, loved to laugh… loved life. She had only known Lucy six months before she had lost her husband and daughter to fever—about the same time Jane’s marriage had begun to crumble.
Lucy lifted her head, her blue-gray eyes shining moistly. “Everyday I tell myself that I will see her again. If I didn’t believe that, I could never go on.”
Jane nodded mutely. She’d known pain, emptiness, but not loss in the way Lucy had. Seth had never been hers to lose. And at least he had not died. At least he lived on, breathing in air, even if not beside her.
“Allow me my concern, Jane. You’re not one of those frivolous ladies to engage in affairs. You cannot separate your heart from such business.”
Jane snatched her black gown from where she left it on a chaise, telling herself Lucy was wrong.
Years ago, she had been infatuated with Seth. Tonight was simply an exercise in freedom, a chance to live the dream of her youth.
“It was one time, Lucy. Once does not constitute an affair.”
“Oh.” Her friend’s lips twisted in derision. “That makes me feel better.”
Jane sighed as she stepped into her dress. “You’re such a mother hen.” She stilled, cringing at her ill-chosen words.
Lucy’s face paled.
“Lucy, I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” She waved a hand and motioned Jane around. With deft movements, she buttoned her up. “You’re a grown woman, Jane. Sometimes I forget not everyone needs my advice. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”
“I do.” She managed to say in a convincing manner.
“I’ll only say this—you should let him know it was you tonight. If you feel so strongly about him, perhaps there could be a future—”
“No,” she broke in. Seth would never see her as anything other than sister to the woman who broke his heart.
“Hmm,” was all Lucy offered.
Turning around, Jane glanced at the discarded gown, the gold a gleaming reminder of all that had occurred. Sadness welled in her chest as she gazed at the borrowed gown, realizing she would never have need of it again.
Seth stormed into his room, wrenching free of his jacket and tearing his cravat from his neck.
The scent of her still filled his senses, playing with his mind, his heart. He stopped hard in the middle of the room and looked about him, jerking his head to the left and right, searching for what he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if Aurora lurked in the shadows of his chamber, yet his gaze flew about the room like a wild zephyr skipping over the seas.
“Lieutenant,” Knightly greeted, emerging from the adjoining room. “You’ve returned early. Was the lady not up to your expectations?”
Seth stared at his former midshipman, thinking only that Aurora had surpassed every expectation… and wondering how Knightly knew of her. True, there was little the former midshipman didn’t know about him. The two had been together for so long, the men knew each other as well as any two souls could.
Seth hadn’t treated Knightly as the other commissioned officers did, as though it were his privilege to shine their boots. And although Seth had never expected anything for such courtesy, Knightly had always looked out for him, teaching him how to fight, and not like a gentleman.
Lessons that had saved his life on more than one occasion.
Seth gazed at him now, shaking his head. “How did you know—”
“Colonel Manchester’s sister?” Knightly prodded. “Is she as lovely as rumored?”
“Oh, Miss Manchester,” he murmured. Of course.
He’d forgotten about Miss Manchester. Forgotten everything save the feel of Aurora in his arms—her taste, her body against his. She kissed him as no woman had, as if she couldn’t get enough of him, as if his lips were opium itself.
“Yes,” Knightly answered, looking at him strangely, “Miss Manchester.”
“No, Miss Manchester did not meet my expectations.”
How could she when his masked lady had been within twenty yards?
For some reason, his thoughts turned to Jane just then. The sweet taste of her throat beneath his mouth. True, she was no wild tigress like Aurora, but the tremble of her neck beneath his lips, soft as the flutter of a moth’s wings, filled him with a different sort of hunger… but no less intoxicating.
Shaking off the unwelcome comparison and wondering if he were mad to still crave after Jane when he had been so thoroughly satisfied with Aurora, he vowed to put Jane from his thoughts and concentrate on finding his masked seductress again. A woman more suitable for him to pursue.
Aurora had come to him. He could only hope she would do so again. After tonight he would never get her out of his blood, much less his thoughts.
“Ah, then you must continue looking.”
Seth’s head snapped back in Gregory’s direction. “Looking?” he echoed, wondering how Knightly had read his thoughts.
“For your bride.”
“Oh.” Realizing Knightly discussed Miss Manchester, he lowered himself to a chair and tugged off his boots.
“Forgive me, but you seem distracted tonight.”
Removing his last boot, Seth fell back into the chair and looked Gregory steadily in the face. “I met someone.”
“Did you? Who is she?”
The scent of her swirled around him. Closing his eyes, he inhaled, taking the scent of apples deep within himself.
“I don’t know. She did not give her name.” Just her body.
Knightly’s brows rose.
Seth stared broodingly across the room, thumping the arm of the chair lightly with his fist. “I will find her.”
Knightly bent to collect his discarded boots. “Generally, people are only found when they wish to be.”
“I must see her again.”
“Perhaps you should focus on finding a bride you like half as much as this mystery woman. Or have you changed your mind about marrying?”
Seth considered that, wishing he could quit the whole notion of matrimony. But he couldn’t. All he had to do was think of his cousin, and the risk he presented to Julianne. Seth had to wed, and hopefully, beget an heir or two to keep Harold well in his place.
“I’ll find a bride,” he asserted, simultaneously vowing that he would never cease looking for Aurora.
Recalling the way she had moved against him, the way he had felt buried deep inside her, he knew he would never be free of her.
He would have her again.
After departing Lucy’s, Jane crept up the servant’s staircase, holding her breath until she reached her bedroom door. Hand on the latch, the tension flowed from her shoulders as she pushed the door in and walked inside. A lamp burned low on the dresser, filling the room with dancing shadows.
“Late night, my dear?”
She spun around, her heart in her throat.
“D—Desmond.”
“I warned you, Jane.” He advanced on her slowly, the thud of his every step a stab to her heart.
“Where have you been?” He slapped his hand against the side of his thigh. “Sneaking off in the middle of the night—”
“I—I was at Lady Shillington’s.” Not strictly a lie.
“Hmm.” He stopped before her, his voice, lowering. “Chloris is most displeased. She had to take a tonic to calm her nerves. Put her straight to sleep.” She struggled to hold her ground and not shrink away as he brushed her collarbone above the stiff edge of her bodice. “She wouldn’t hear a cavalry charge.”
Her gaze flitted over her sparsely furnished chamber. “Then perhaps we should wait to discuss this in the morning.”
Turning, she strode back to the door and grasped the latch in her hand again, determined to usher him from the room. He grabbed her wrist, squeezing the bones until they ached.
“Chloris thinks we should send you away.”
She lifted her chin a notch and tried not to wince at his grip on her wrist. “Why don’t you?”
“You would like that,” he growled. “I told you there’s only one way out of this house.”
“Never will I accept your disgusting proposition.”
His small eyes flashed in his gaunt face. “As I was reflecting upon your defiance this evening and trying to come up with a proper punishment, I realized taking your clothes and jewelry was merely a child’s reprimand.” He paused, his gaze crawling over her. “You’re no child, Jane.”
The tiny hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle as he stepped nearer. She held her breath, waiting for his words to fall.
“Your maid,” he began. “She has been with you some years now, correct?”
Her chest suddenly grew tight, the ability to draw breath difficult. “Anna?” she asked warily.
“Precisely how long has the old bird been with you?” He stared at her, unblinking, waiting for her answer.
With great reluctance, she replied, “She was my nurse.”
“Ah.” He nodded, a strange smile curving his thin lips.
“What?” she demanded.
“It’s a shame, that is all.”
“A shame,” she echoed.
“Yes. I fear, you shall miss her,” he drawled in tones of false sympathy.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve dismissed her. Moments ago, in fact.”
“Dismissed her?”
“I say, Jane. You’re usually not this slow to grasp matters.”
“Where is she?” she demanded, anger churning her stomach.
“I told you. I have released her from my employ. Currently, she is packing her things.”
“You have no right,” she cried. Jerking free, she pushed open the door, intent on finding Anna.
He grabbed her by the arm and spun her back around, slamming her back against the door with enough force to rattle her teeth.
“I have every right,” he snapped, all pretense at kindness gone. “Until Matthew comes of age, I shall make all decisions regarding this family. Regarding you. I warned you not to challenge me.”
Desperation, thick and cold, clawed at her heart. She struggled against his hold.
“Please, Desmond. Anna is…” she choked on a sob, words woefully inadequate. Everything. All I have. The only one who has loved me all of my life.
“Perhaps I’ll reconsider.” He shrugged, his voice slithering through her like a snake gliding through grass. “Much depends on you. On your cooperation.”
“You can’t dismiss her! Where will she go?”
“It’s not my habit to follow the comings and goings of a servant no longer in my employ.”
“You cannot do this,” she hissed, hands clenching at her sides. “I’ve done nothing to warrant—”
“Desmond.” A voice rang out from the corridor, sharp and grating. Apparently Chloris’s tonic had not been strong enough, after all. “Have you finished with Jane?”
Have you finished with Jane? As if she were some disobedient child that required scolding.
“Yes, Chloris. For now.” With a look promising more to come, he released her and slipped from the room.
Alone in her room, she leaned against the hard length of the door, taking comfort in its temporary barrier.