AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She pinned Lord Raymore with a frank gaze. “I was thinking about the absence of passion in a relationship and the reasons for it.”
He appeared startled before his eyes crinkled at the corner. “What conclusion have you formed from your musings?”
“Perhaps love might be the key,” she said with a wry smile. “Couples who appear besotted with each other might share a grander passion than those who aren’t. Is that your experience, my lord?”
“As I have never been in love, I cannot say,” he said with a thoughtful smile. “What say you, Chisholm?”
Lucinda’s belly clenched as another earl stepped into view, a glass of champagne held casually in his hand.
“About what?” he asked, his gaze sweeping their small gathering of intimate friends with polite boredom.
His silver eyes settled on her for the briefest moment before he looked to Lord Raymore.
“That love makes passion burn a bit brighter,” replied Lady Jensen, flicking her fan in Chisholm’s direction and gracing him with a pretty smile.
It was clear who the widowed countess intended to take to her bed tonight, and Lucinda dipped her head and hid a smile. This was one of the reasons she enjoyed attending house parties, especially the ones hosted by Lady Cashmere. Debutantes who might faint away at scandalous and thought-provoking discourse were hardly invited to these affairs. The countess’s guests were mostly married couples, bachelors, and widows who had a tacit understanding that one was meant to be naughty and frivolous at house parties.
“Nonsense, of course,” Lord Chisholm replied with an air of cultivated boredom.
“Why do you think it is nonsense?” Lucinda asked pertly, bringing his attention back to her.
She felt that the breath had been knocked from her lungs. His gaze felt heavy, and if she had been a different sort of lady, she might have wilted back from his intensity. The Earl of Chisholm, with his raven black hair and steel-gray eyes, was arresting, his presence a bit intimidating. Since the start of the house party, they had not conversed, but she had been perplexingly aware of him in the background, and at times Lucinda would feel his regard upon her. Whenever their gazes met, his mouth would curve in an enigmatic smile, or he would lift a glass in a silent toast, but the earl had not approached her, and she had given him a wide berth. Tonight, he was immaculately dressed in a black tailcoat and a waistcoat of silver, a perfect conceit as they matched the sheer beauty of his eyes.
“Are you not to answer, my lord?” she asked archly, vividly aware of his penetrating inspection and that their compatriots looked back and forth between them.
“The only thing determining if a woman cries out her satisfaction beneath a lover…or on top is the gentleman’s skill. Love has nothing to do with it.”
Their small gathering laughed even as Lucinda felt a wave of warmth go through her. To blush at his provoking reply was beyond the pale. It was not as if she were a debutante, or if this man was the first to speak so explicitly around her.
“I gather you speak from experience,” Lady Jensen said throatily, lightly touching his shoulder, her blue gaze heated with a blatant invitation.
A small smile touched Chisholm’s mouth. “Yes.”
It wasn’t meant to be a boast, a flat, matter-of-fact statement that had Lucinda’s heart dancing an odd beat. “So you have never been in love, Lord Chisholm?”
Sipping occasionally at his drink, he'd seemed distantly thoughtful, almost bored. “No.”
Lucinda sent him an arched smile. “Then you are merely assuming those who’ve er…sweated beneath your prowess have not had better with someone they loved. I daresay you cannot conclusively declare my supposition to be nonsense.”
His eyes gleamed with something akin to humor even though his mouth remained unsmiling. There was a sleek, predatory grace about him that sent strange sensations down Lucinda’s spine. She did not like her reaction to this gentleman.
“It might be so,” Chisholm replied. “Is it that you have sufficient and varied experience to form your conclusion, Viscountess Darby? Do charm us with the details.”
Several eyes turned to her, their expressions showing varying degrees of curiosity. Especially Lord Raymore. “I do not have an answer,” she said, taking a sip of her champagne, annoyed she lacked a wittier repartee.
“Some men believe love is for their wives and passion for their lovers,” Lady Jensen said with a naughty glint in her eyes.
“Very true,” Raymore said.
Chisholm made a low sound in his throat, a cross between a scoff and a chuckle. “Those damn fools.”
“Fine fools indeed,” Lady Jensen said, batting her lashes at the earl over the rim of her glass.
Chisholm grinned, the curve of his mouth so carnal and confident Lucinda looked away from them.
“I believe Viscountess Darby has a point,” said Lord Stanwell, a look of fondness coming over his expression. “I love my darling Sophia more than anything, and when we were together…nothing has ever felt so perfect. Love makes passion incredible.”
“Is that why you chased your mistress all the way to Venice last month?” Raymore asked.
