Her cries urged him on, to pump faster, to delve deeper, harder. When she fell apart, his name woven through her screams echoing around him, he knewa glorious triumph. He very nearly spilled his seed into her, but at the last second, he withdrew, the grandeur of the moment dimming somewhat because he couldn’t give her all of himself.
But he was grateful to have tonight, to have had the opportunity to give to her all that he could. One last time.
Chapter 19
I could scarcely wait for the arrival of each ball. Within the ballroom, we proved ourselves examples of perfect decorum. But we always found an alcove, a conservatory, a niche in the garden where we would not be discovered. Where shadows and our passions reigned.
—Anonymous,My Secret Desires, A Memoir
June 23, 1875
Regina had arrived at his residence alone, save for her coachman and footman, but she was returning to her estate in the wee hours tucked in against Knightly’s side, Shakespeare tethered to the back of the conveyance.
Now that they were no longer in his bedchamber, now that clothes were not littered about the floor but were on bodies as they were meant to be, emotions were playing havoc with her as she considered the reality of their situation. She understood fully—and even commended—the decision he’d made on the day they were to wed, but that didn’t mean she didn’t stillfeel its bite. Or that his unwillingness to break a vow for her—a vow made to an unscrupulous man—didn’t create an agonizing ache in her chest.
“Should I offer to purchase the box back from Chidding?” he asked.
He probably should because she would continue to consider ittheirbox—hers and Knightly’s. She would no doubt always recall their time together within it. She should rid herself of everything that would conjure up memories of him. But then there was Ari, and she would remind Regina of him every day. “I don’t think it’s necessary. Unless you want it back.”
“I no longer used it. It was simply languishing.”
“Then best for it to remain with him. Actors don’t like to be aware of empty seats.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Should I ask him if his intentions are honorable?”
She laughed lightly. “I’m quite capable of handling the matter myself. Besides, if his intentions weren’t honorable, I don’t believe he’d have provided us with a chaperone.”
“Stupid man. If I could have had you to myself without one...”
“Don’t you think all the sneaking around and forbidden aspect of our time together added to the allure?”
“You and you alone were the reason for the allure. Never doubt your appeal, Reggie.”
“You said when I married, I’d never see you again.” Recently she’d wanted his complete absence from her life more than anything. Now the thought made her melancholy. “Will that still hold true... after tonight?”
“More so. Can you not understand I can’t be within sight of you without wanting you?”
“And when you are not within sight of me?”
“Then, too, but it’s easier to control, not as painful. Your husband would probably appreciate not having me about as a reminder of your—our—past. It rather dominated the gossip rags before, and it’s beginning to do so now. Which is all to the good because it’ll speed up the tortoise.”
“I don’t blame him for being slow or cautious. I draw some comfort from his not rushing to get his hands on my coffers.”
“Where will you live?”
“His estate, I assume. Once it’s brought up to snuff. Have you ever been there?”
“Years ago. It’ll suit you. Plenty of room for galloping. How is Queen, by the by?”
“Content in her new home.” And another reminder of time spent with him that she wouldn’t rid herself of. So many gifts he’d given her. Some she could hold in her hands; some she could hold only in her heart.
“I never thought to ask, but where was your daughter born?” His voice was a low murmur.
“Paris. In a little garret.”
“Above the artist’s studio?”
She detected the tiniest fissure of jealousy, and almost confessed all, but their parting was going to be hard enough as it was. The truth of her daughter would only serve to cause more pain for all of them because they couldn’t be together. As long as he believed her lies about Ari’s father and her birth month, she could spare him that misery at least, of enduringthe agony of watching another raising his daughter. “Above a bakery actually. I awoke up mornings to the most wonderful aromas and started my day with fresh bread slathered in butter.”
