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10
Lamplight danced off the whitewashed walls of the small dining room, softening the time-worn edges of the painted woodwork, and thankfully, Lucia mused, the lines on her face. Sipping from her wineglass, she studied the barrister, thinking she felt younger tonight than she had in years.
“Did you enjoy the play, Mademoiselle Toulouse?” Mr. Stowe asked as he cracked a walnut and offered her the sweet meat from the center.
They had shared an exquisite meal of turtle soup—an expensive delicacy in London—oyster-stuffed partridge with a jellied wine sauce, pork and peas pudding, and fresh bread. A serving girl had just cleared the table, brought another bottle of wine at Mr. Stowe’s request and served them a plate of f
resh fruits and nuts.
Lucia plucked the meat from the nutshell and popped it into her mouth with a smile, washing it down with more ruby-red wine. The small room where the host had seated them was actually a hallway leading into a much larger dining room where Sapphire, Angelique and their group of young men dined in the rented rooms above the Cock and Bull Tavern. With the door left open, the dining arrangements were considered perfectly acceptable and her young charges were considered chaperoned, which amused Lucia to no end considering what the girls were up to. Somehow, the four gentlemen who had come to take them to the theater had become five by the time they arrived on Drury Lane, and had expanded to nearly a dozen by the time they reached the tavern.
Lucia wasn’t concerned about the girls’ safety, even in a group of men so large—not that she ever worried about Angelique, a girl who had been born old. Tonight, even Sapphire seemed to be enjoying herself, playing the role of the flirtatious new girl in town. And, Lucia realized, she was certainly enjoying herself, too.
Her gaze returned to Jessup Stowe’s jolly face. Lucia had made love to many men over the years, been loved by many men, but she had never been in love. She’d always teased her dear friend Sophie, claiming there was no such thing as love. Now, after all these years, she wondered if she had been wrong. Jessup Stowe was nothing like the men who paid such high prices for her affection in New Orleans, or like the men she had affairs with in Martinique. He was certainly nothing like the handsome Armand, whom she had come to care for a great deal. Perhaps that was what made Jessup Stowe all the more fascinating to her.
“Come now, Mr. Stowe, I think it’s time we dispense with society’s decrees and use first names, don’t you?” Lucia set down her wineglass.
He lowered the iron nutcracker to the table, glanced at her, then began to tidy up the table, sweeping nutshells into his hand. He seemed pleased but unsure how to take her suggestion.
“Jessup, I like you a great deal.” She reached out and rested her hand on his until he looked at her. “And I think you have feelings for me. Let’s face the truth—neither of us is getting any younger. Need we really waste our time with all these ridiculous rules when we could be moving on to something…more mutually satisfying?”
His eyes widened slightly, and then narrowed as she leaned over the table until her lips met his. A heat danced between them at once, a heat Lucia had feared was gone from her life forever, and when she opened her eyes to look at him, he was smiling.
“That was nice,” he said softly, taking her hand between his and smoothing it. His eyes filled with moisture. “It…it’s been a very long time, Lucia, since I kissed anyone.”
“Pretty good for being out of practice,” she teased as she leaned over the table again. Only this time, she let him take the lead—and she was not disappointed.
Jessup was less hesitant with his next kiss, and his touch sent a delightful shiver of pleasure that she felt from her eyebrows to the balls of her feet. Their lips brushed once, twice, and then she tasted the tip of his tongue.
“I think I should go home with you,” Lucia murmured, searching his eyes. Then she smiled mischievously, drawing her fingertips under his clean-shaven chin. “You don’t seem as shocked by my proposal as I would have expected.”
He took her hand in his. “Nothing shocks me anymore, my dear Lucia.” He chuckled, turning his head to gaze through the open doorway where several of the young gentlemen had begun a game of cards. Angelique and her Lord Carter were dancing to the strum of a hired minstrel’s lute. “I do, however…”
“You what?” She clasped his hands, drawing him close again. “There must only be honesty between you and me, Jessup. I don’t have time for any drivel.”
He grinned lopsidedly and Lucia thought she caught a glimpse of the young man he had once been—handsome with dark hair and a devil-may-care smile.
“The young ladies.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not certain that…” He stopped and started again, seeming uncomfortable.
Lucia waited, even though she was fairly certain what he was about to say. What he wanted to break gently to her was that he could not be associated with such scandalous young women. It was bad for business and his clients would never stand for it.
“If it’s money you need, Lucia, to care for you and the young ladies, I have more than enough. My sons are both ungrateful louts and they don’t deserve a pence of what is mine. I’d be happy to spend it all before I die, if I could figure out how to do it.” He met her gaze again. “It’s not necessary that these young ladies do this. They could marry—I could perhaps offer them a small dowry—”
Lucia turned away and laughed. That was not what she had anticipated. She had thought he would say something about having to keep their affair private so his business would not be affected. But his offer to care not only for her, but also for her chicks, was a pleasant surprise.
Now it was her own eyes that filled with tears, and Lucia was not a woman who had time for tears. “Jessup—”
“I mean what I say, dear Lucia. What is money if it cannot make a person happy? It means nothing to—”
“Jessup, listen to me. This is not as it appears. Despite the gossip you hear or what you may believe you see, my charges are not really looking for protectors.”
He glanced through the doorway again. Angelique was now perched on the edge of the dining table, flashing more than a little calf as she swung her legs with the hapless lightheartedness of a child. Sapphire sat in a chair, fanning herself madly.
Jessup looked back at Lucia again.
“I’m going to tell you a story,” she said, “and I’ll warn you, it will sound far-fetched. I’ll also warn you that if you don’t believe what I say, you and I will have a nice tumble tonight. I’ll sleep with you until dawn and I’ll probably come to your bed again, but we will never have any more than that.”
Jessup swallowed hard and nodded.
