“You are holding my hand at this very moment,” he said softly as he lifted her fingers to his lips to place a soft kiss on her knuckles. “You danced with Marksman, before either of you knew of your connection, and you danced with me in both the garden and the training room.” He sighed, and so did she, as the moment stretched further to maintain their connection.
At length, she pulled her hand free from his. His so-called assurances were a painfully awkward reminder of what her life had been. She stood quickly, swiping away the tears before too many of them arrived.
“Ah, hell, sweetheart. I was being an arse. I made you cry.” He stood also and caught her shoulders before fishing out a handkerchief to wipe away her tears before pulling her into his arms to protect her. His body exuded the warmth she had dreamed of since arriving in London. It was a warmth she had not known since her mother’s passing—not even when Alexander embraced her.
Her hand rested over his heart. The steadiness of the rhythm presented her with the calmness she had never known. Heartened by his lordship’s show of support that only this man managed to instill in her, she lifted her hands to rest on his shoulders.
“You are playing with fire, my lady,” he warned, as he lightly kissed the warm drum of her pulse near her ear. When she did not object, with an eager moan his mouth covered hers.
Instead of shoving him away, Audrey found her arms circling his neck, tugging him closer. It was not fair how his kiss had caused her tolose all reason. She knew better. Beaufort was a hard man—a man who had known great devastation. A man who based all his decisions—even the one to kiss her—on logic and reason. Emotions, such as affection or even love, would never factor into his decisions. Unfortunately, Audrey was not worldly, though she had seen a great portion of it, and her decisions were, generally, based on what felt right, and, in this moment, being in Lord Beaufort’s arms felt perfect.
Her mouth parted beneath the urgency of his. Even flavored by the wine they had shared, he tasted incredible. She thought she could remain as such forever, but he evidently thought otherwise, because he suddenly ripped his mouth from hers and took a giant step backwards. Followed by another. “I apologize, my lady. I should not…”
She raised her hand to prevent his words. “Do not… do not say you regret this moment. Though my uncle was angry, I truly did not regret my dance with Alexander, for I may never have known another.”
“You are the daughter and sister of an earl,” he argued.
“But I was not one… at least, not an acknowledged one, on the night of the masque. It was my first dance in a ballroom, even if it was with a man who proved to be my brother, it was heavenly.”
He grinned at her then. “I am assuredly not your brother, my lady.”
“Did you wish to kiss me?” she asked boldly.
“Very much so,” he admitted with a smile.
“Good,” she declared though the memory of the kiss made her ears pink with embarrassment.
“Very good,” he declared. “Spectacular even.”
“You have returnedat last,” Audrey gushed as Caroline embraced her upon her cousin’s entrance. Though the action was a bit awkward, Audrey attempted not to flinch, but, since having the conversation with both her brother and Beaufort, Audrey suddenly felt quite awkward regarding Caroline’s open display of affection.
Her uncle overrode his daughter’s welcomed reunion. “Have the servants returned, Audrey?” he asked in curt tones.
“Yes, sir. This morning. I assume you will find everything in order. Mrs. Sable says she received a letter from you regarding your instructions for reopening the house.” Audrey would truly miss spending her evenings with Alexander, but especially with Lord Beaufort. Both men had quickly become essential to her well-being. She seriously believed she would have known great melancholy by being banished to nearly a month of solitude.
“And the cleaning?” her uncle asked, ignoring Audrey’s response.
“All but the guest rooms, sir. I saved those for last, as guest quarters were not required at the time.” Alexander had pointed out Honfleur’s expectations for Audrey to clean the whole house would have been impossible as she was alone. Moving heavy furniture and beating rugs was not a solitary occupation. They had decided his servants would leave the four guest rooms untouched as well as the two larger chandeliers, for there was no ladder in the house, which Alexander suspected Honfleur knew before leaving for France. “With the servants’ return, the two maids and I have finished one of the rooms completely and have nearly finished the second of the four guest rooms.”
“You will continue to assist the maids for the foreseeable future,” her uncle pronounced in sour tones.
“But, Father,” Caroline began her protest; yet, a flick of Uncle Jacobi’s wrist silenced his daughter’s defense of Audrey.
“We all must do what is necessary to place our family forward in British society. You and I are the public faces to that end, Caroline.You are to bring a suitable gentleman with both a title and wealth up to snuff to assist in protecting us in this period of transition. The French are welcomed, but generally with a caveat attached as to what is acceptable in English society. My role is to open the door for your success.” He turned his steady gaze on Audrey. “As you have no role in this march to an end, it seems to me the least you could do is to assist in making the house presentable for Caroline to entertain her callers. I do feed and clothe you, after all.”
Audrey had thought perhaps her following her uncle’s orders would have earned her a bit of praise, but it appeared he wished to be rid of her. He meant to cut any ties which held them together. Until this very moment, she had privately rejected the idea of having no true allegiance to the man who had claimed her when no others stepped forward. Now, as if it had a mind of its own, with his further neglect, her heart instantly hardened. “As you wish, my lord,” she said in obedience, but she purposely omitted the familial moniker of “uncle.” In the passage of less than a minute, her mind switched from being Jacobi Moreau’s obedient niece, a girl named Audrey Moreau, to being the sister of an earl, Lady Annalise Dutton.
“Here you are,”Caroline stated the obvious. Audrey had retreated to the attic room to be as far away from Jacobi Moreau as she could remove herself without leaving the house. Initially, she thought to pack her meager belongings and hire a hackney to take her to Alexander’s home. Yet, she could not risk the British government’s investigation just to protect her from a bit of labor. “I am resilient enough to see this through,” she had told herself as she had climbed the stairs to the attic to take out her frustrations on a woodencharacterization of a man with a sword.
“Where else might aservantbe found, but in the attic?” she quipped as she set the sword aside. Caroline flinched in obvious surprise, but her cousin’s reaction was not as satisfying as Audrey had anticipated. In reality, Caroline was not at fault in this matter.
“Father never meant for you to be a house maid at Amgen Place,” Caroline argued.
“Did he not?” Audrey countered. “How else might you describe his edict? I could understand his pressing me into service if his lordship wished to economize; but, even then, I would not be able to quash the feeling I have lost any station I might once have claimed in your family. I am to be treated as was my mother in the bayman’s household. The bayman was a stranger. Your father is not. I have spent fifteen years of my life in the Moreau family.” Audrey swallowed the words rushing to her lips and announcing she now knew herself to be a Dutton.
“Father still looks upon you as family,” Caroline insisted.
“Does he?” Audrey accused. “Then why were you not also presented a list of duties to the household?”
