AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And if you had the choice of becoming something new, what would you choose?”
Her chin lifted, and she assumed an exaggerated expression of hauteur. “I should be a queen, of course. Not here, where women are looked upon as inferior, but of a place where women are revered, worshiped even. I think perhaps Cleopatra had it right.”
It was his turn to laugh. “I think I begin to understand—you cannot abide being controlled by any but yourself, can you?”
An eloquent shrug lifted one shoulder. “What woman does not wish to determine her own destiny? But I’ve already seized control of mine. This is my world, and in it, I’m the ruler of all I survey. There is not a man in this room I cannot summon with a crook of my finger and then bend to my will.”
A bark of laughter burst from him. “My, but we are confident! Pride goeth before the fall, you know,” he tutted. The music began, and he made the first turn to pass her on the left, keeping his gaze fixed on her as they circled each other. He waited until she faced him again. “You name yourself the ruler of your world, yet in reality you’re under the authority and auspices of your patron. If he should grow bored or displeased with you…”
With a soft chuckle, she broke pattern and came to stand before him. The crowd parted around them, creating an island of calm amid a swirling flow of brightly colored silk skirts and jackets. Her smoky sea-green gaze held him.
“My dear Lord Blackthorn,” she said after a moment. “What in heaven’s name makes you think I’m under his authority or that he is any less obligated to please me? As for boredom, I should think not.” Her lips parted in a wicked smile that was as keen as any he’d seen on a man holding a winning hand of cards. “For those who have no fear of it, desire may be expressed in an infinite variety of ways.”
Lucas suddenly found his mouth robbed of all moisture and his loins tightening with anticipation. Never had he encountered a woman as openly sensual as this! And yet… “Have you truly no fear?” he managed at last.
Her chin rose a fraction. “I was not forced to become what I am. I chose this path. After my reputation was destroyed, I could have gone to the church or become a servant, but I saw an opportunity for something better. I took it, and I have no regrets.”
“This is better?” he asked, surprised at the scorn in his voice. “You’d rather this than to marry and have a home and children—a respectable life?”
Her playful, prideful demeanor vanished, and he caught a glint of cool steel in her gaze. “The one who betrayed me taught me a very important lesson, my lord. A so-called respectable life does not guarantee happiness. ‘Happy’ is a highly subjective term. I have a home. I have a lover who is both attentive and kind. My every need—and more wants than most women are granted—is met through our association. Perhaps one day I shall choose to marry, but only if doing so is sure to bring me greater happiness than that which I already possess.”
The memory of her as a shy, nervous debutante flashed in his mind’s eye. One “attentive and kind” lover was nowhere near enough to produce the jade before him now. Every instinct told him she was a lie. “You are a duke’s daughter. You cannot tell me this is the life you desired.”
Her gem-like eyes bored into his for a moment before her ripe lips twisted in a rueful smile. “Indeed not. Like any naive child, I wished for a prince to come and sweep me off to his castle far away, where he would lavish upon me his undying love and devotion. Unfortunately, not everyone is granted their childhood fancy.”
“True, but—”
“I understand you feel I’ve sold myself. You are correct. I have.” Her quiet voice was a razor’s edge. “But so does every woman who marries and trades the use of her body for the sake of security and respectability.”
He laughed a little to lighten the mood, which had grown entirely too tense. “The church would beg to differ, I’m sure.”
“The currency may be different, and the church may sanction the exchange, but a calculated transaction it remains,” she replied coldly. “Unless a woman marries for love, she is no less a whore than I, for she sells herself as surely as any dockside trull. I, at least, have chosen to sell myself to a man who pleases me in addition to providing me with comfort and safety.”
“You have no shame at all, then?”
“Why should I?” she said with an indifferent shrug, and all at once her smooth smile and polite manner were back in place. “I can say with utmost confidence that I have more honor than most of the married women in this room, and I’m certainly more honest. I am a courtesan, my lord. I don’t hide the bargain I made behind hypocrisy and call it by another name.” Backing away, she rejoined the line to resume the dance.
…
Diana felt like kicking something—like kicking him—right in his stockinged shins! Hard.
Why had she let him antagonize her into a response? She was supposed to have danced, smiled, and departed on the arm of another man before he could get under her skin. Instead, she’d practically invited him to ask a thousand more questions. She could see them swimming there, just behind his eyes, waiting.
He had lovely eyes. Gray as winter storm clouds they were, and framed by long, pitch-black lashes. In her opinion, they were far too beautiful for a man. Those eyes observed her now, too closely. It was as though he could see into her, as if he somehow knew the truth that lay buried deep inside her heart.
The music ended, she curtsied and walked away, head high, back stiff. If that did not tell him to leave her be, then he was a blind fool and deserved the slap she had waiting for him.
Just as she stepped off the ballroom floor, someone touched her elbow. She turned, ready to strike her pursuer and be damned the consequences, but it was Westing. In her haste to be away fro
m Blackthorn, she’d forgotten about him.
“Lady Diana,” he said, a bit out of breath but still grinning like an idiot. “What of our dance?”
She glanced beyond him to see Blackthorn still watching her. The look in his eyes told her he would surely come after her if she tried to leave alone. Fixing Westing with a regretful smile, she took the better part of valor. “The truth is I would much prefer to go somewhere quiet and sit for a moment. It’s these new slippers, you see. I’m afraid my foot has become sore. Perhaps you might keep me company while I rest it?”
Westing’s grin widened another increment, and he offered his arm. “It shall be my pleasure!”
Diana didn’t dare to look behind her as they departed. Above all, Blackthorn must never think she cared one whit about what he’d said. Yes, she wanted a home—a real one—and a family. But both were impossible—for now.
