Page 83 of The Lady’s Great Escape

“Unfortunately, I have an imperfection.” Celia gestured toward her face.

The woman frowned and shook her head. “It is perfection in its own right. It makes you different from every other woman. The ladies of the ton wish to look and act the same, but a man searches for the differences and latches on to the woman who stands out from the crowd.”

Celia blinked. “I never thought of it like that. You’re saying this mark makes me different and that’s a good thing?”

“It doesn’t detract from your beauty, but enhances your uniqueness.”

“That is comforting to hear as I cannot get rid of it and have only found one way to cover it up and that is with a mask.”

Again, the woman smiled like a sated cat. “Anonymity heightens one’s desires, does it not?”

“Uh. Yes.” She swallowed and decided to push on. “I wish to take a lover, Lady Harrington and you see, Lord Stormont is looking for a wife. Widows such as ourselves have no need to marry. In fact, marriage means a loss of freedom and I want to explore my freedom, not give it up.”

The woman’s smile fell away and she, herself, seemed to fade. Her pale hair and icy blue eyes held no color of their own. Only the scarlet dressing gown kept her from looking like a ghost.

“You did not have love in your marriage?”

Celia hid her surprise. She didn’t expect this woman, who held elaborate parties solely for the pleasure of the flesh, to speak of love.

“No. It was a marriage of convenience and my husband was more than seventy when we wed. In truth, I didn’t know a man’s touch until I attended your masquerade.” She realized too late she shouldn’t have shared something so personal. “That is, in the way I did with Lord Stormont.” Lady Harrington didn’t seem to hear her muddled answer, instead she stared off toward the fireplace.

“You assume I chose this life. That this is some reward for outliving my husband?” She didn’t sound accusatory, but Celia again regretted coming here when the woman’s voice trembled on her last word. Celia heard the pain radiating out of her. “I’m a merry widow who can now do as she pleases. Such freedom.”

Her voice cracked on the last word and Celia wanted to sink into the settee and disappear.

“I’d give anything to exchange this freedom for my life with Freddie. I don’t take lovers as a freedom, Lady Hamlin. In fact, it’s torture to know whoever warms my bed, I’ll never love anyone as I once loved my husband. Physical pleasure is all I’ll ever have, but it leaves the heart cold and empty. Are you certain it will be enough for you?”

“I was forced into a marriage I didn’t choose with a man I had never met, so our views of the institution are vastly different. To me it seems like a prison. Once I take my vows, the man I marry will own everything I have, including myself.”

“But if you choose the right man, you may not mind giving yourself to him. Marriage or no. And he will give himself in return. In the right circumstances you receive something far better in exchange for the freedom you speak of.”

Celia couldn’t help but think of Kit and how giving he was with his pleasure as well as his smiles and his time. He’d told her he didn’t need her money, but having been without funds for so long and sold to a man for his fortune, she didn’t want to be without a way to support herself.

“I will say, having the freedom to do what I want is a great pleasure, but my bed is so cold and empty each night, I can hardly bear it. I thought if I had a man…” Celia couldn’t finish the sentence for she realized it wasn’t a man she wanted in her bed. It was one man. Kit.

“Not every man will want to stay the night. In fact, many will only stay for the deed to be done, and then they’ll leave to go back to the person they truly love.”

“Pardon, but the men here must—” Celia gestured toward the door where the attractive Marcus had left.

“I pay them, Lady Hamlin. While a pleasant distraction, I know they would not spend a moment of their time with me if I did not compensate them for it.” She smiled. “If you’d like to take one of them home for the evening, you are welcome to, but know this, while they are quite good at what they do, you will get nothing emotional from them because they don’t care about you, or me for that matter.”

“I did hope for something a little more substantial.”

“If you want to be doted on then I would suggest becoming a mistress. You would be free to select whose attentions you wanted, and they would give you the best of themselves along with trinkets and the illusion of affection. Some may even love you. But it will be temporary.”

Celia frowned, not liking the idea of being a mistress. She could only imagine how her brother might react to such a thing. While she was eager to see more of life outside of a marriage, she still had her reputation to think about. Widows were given liberties, but a lady becoming a mistress would not be tolerated by society.

“I don’t think that is for me either. I’m afraid I have wasted your time today, Lady Harrington. I should go.”

“Think about what I’ve said. It seems clear to me that you do want love and a marriage, you only need to find the right person this time.”

Celia practically ran from the house. In her carriage, she had difficulty catching her breath. Was it true? Was she destined to find more emptiness with her lovers until one day she wanted more?

Would she wish for a husband and children one day? The thought of it did not make her cringe. Not when she saw the tall, green-eyed man next to her as they watched their exuberant, blond children running through the gardens at Blairgowrie.

If she continued this search for freedom and pleasure, would she miss her opportunity to have love? She’d thought the emotion an unattainable thing, but perhaps, as Lady Harrington suggested, it was only a matter of finding the right person.