“We all want things, Knightly. We don’t always get them.”
A muscle of irritation ticked in his jaw. Unfortunately, it was the same muscle that ticked when he spilled his seed inside her. When she’d loved him, she’d memorized every aspect of him, and now she hated suffering through all the reminders.
“It’s a simple enough task, Regina. It’s not as though I’m asking you to scale a mountain.”
“I’d rather scale a mountain.” She smiled sweetly.“As a matter of fact, I have and found it much to my liking. Penning letters not so much.”
“You wrote a blasted tome.”
She did little more than arch a brow. “Your point?”
A corner of his mouth hitched up, creating the solitary dimple that had always fascinated her. Once she would have pressed a kiss there. She suspected a change in tactic was coming, a cajoling mayhap since she wasn’t conceding to his demands.
“You do realize your gent’s prowess along with your not-so-subtle hints Lord K is in fact based upon me is making me somewhat... legendary.”
She had, unfortunately, misjudged that aspect of it. “Completely unfair. You’re viewed as a hero and me as a harlot. That is if the lady of the tale was based upon me, which she is not. She is purely a figment of my imagination.”
He took two long strides away from the fireplace, so if he stretched out his arm and she leaned forward the smallest fraction, his long, tapered fingers would be able to graze along her cheek. “So you wouldn’t do anything Lord K asked of you?”
“Once perhaps, but no longer.” Hot anger began pouring through her, and she was surprised he didn’t see sparks shooting out of her ears. It was so like Knightly to lure her in, to be so easy to talk with, to make her forget he was a scoundrel extraordinaire. To make her believe his promises of a lifetime of love and happiness. “Do you not understand you are the villain? You used your charms to seduce an innocent into falling in love with you, in giving to you everything she held dear, without remorse or shame.Then you deserted her, left her to suffer her shattered heart alone. Now begone and leave me in peace.”
She turned for the door.
“If you didn’t want me in your life, you wouldn’t have written the book in such a manner that it couldn’t escape my notice.”
She swung around. “I wrote the book to exorcise the last remnants of what we had that continued to plague my hopes and dreams. And it worked. Every word dripped with the loathing I hold for you. Every sentence scored you from my heart. Every paragraph bludgeoned my soul. Every passage served as a reminder of the fantasy you created for us, a love that did not truly exist. I poured every memory of you onto paper until not a single one holds sway over me any longer. I require no apology, no explanation, no repentance from you. You are no longer my reality. I don’t think of you, dream of you, or yearn for you. I am free of you. Utterly and completely. Good day, my lord.”
Spinning on her heel, she walked out as regally and with as much dignity as she could muster before he could decipher that every damned word had been a lie. Because instead of walking away, she’d very much wanted to walk toward him and straight into his arms. Stupid, silly girl.
Chapter 6
“I want to lay you down on the grass and have my way with you,” he whispered seductively, his breath a rush of heat against my ear. I imagined how wonderful it would feel to have the cool green against my back and the fire of his flesh pressed against my bosom.
—Anonymous,My Secret Desires, A Memoir
June 12, 1875
Regina seldom received invitations to balls—not since her father’s death a little over a year earlier, not since he was no longer present to throw his influence around in order to secure them for her. As a matter of fact, she was rather certain his heir, her half brother, had let it be known he wouldn’t attend any affairs to which she’d been invited and would look unfavorably upon anyone who extended an invitation to her.
The Duchess of Thornley, however, as an infant left on the doorstep of a baby farmer, was not one for playing political games or being intimidated. Regina had met her two years earlier, when her father,in spite of his failing health, had brought her to the Thornley ball. After she’d returned from the Continent, he’d set about once again striving to find her a protector. If not for Arianna, Regina would have dissuaded him, but she’d also known he could more peacefully leave this world if he was providing her with resources.
She was not fool enough to refuse an invitation that arrived at her door, especially when it might provide an opportunity for Viscount Chidding to pursue his courtship of her in a more public setting.
Hence, this evening she was at the well-attended affair, speaking with Lady Rosemont, the duchess’s sister and wife to the Earl of Rosemont, and Lady Aslyn, who had married Mick Trewlove, the duchess’s brother.
“Fancy, you own a bookshop for goodness’ sake,” Lady Aslyn was saying to her sister-by-marriage. “How can you not obtain a book I want to read?”
“Aslyn, no copies are to be found anywhere. Before I could get word to my shop manager that I wanted some put aside for us, she’d already sold all our copies ofMy Secret Desires. Honestly, this book has unexpectedly taken the country by storm. I’ve spoken with the publisher, and he’s assured me he will print more... once it’s safe.”
“Safe?”
Fancy glanced around before revealing in a lowered voice, “He fears being arrested for printing obscene material.”
Regina refrained from rolling her eyes. Throughher solicitor, she’d already been informed of the publisher’s concerns. They were barely two months in, and it would be the fifth printing—apparently, he’d grossly misjudged the book’s potential popularity—and if he’d not been arrested yet, surely he was not in any true danger of being so. Perhaps he was merely sharing nonexistent fears in an effort to add to the story’s mystique, so more people were clamoring to read it.
“How obscene is it?” Aslyn asked.
“Not very,” Regina answered without thinking.
