AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I believe in the arts. I believe in their power to convey a message, to subvert the status quo. Ifiercelybelieve in giving those who don’t have the freedom to voice their truths the means to express them in other ways.” She gently clamped her teeth on the outer shell of Manuela’s ear, eliciting a delicious little shiver. “I am also quite taken with the idea of, one hundred years from now, people realizing that much of the revered and praised art of our time was created by people who society liked to believe didn’t exist.”
It took Manuela a moment to digest what she said, then her smile turned absolutely radiant. “That is positively Machiavellian, Your Grace.”
“Why make sanctimonious blowhards squirm only in this lifetime when I could make sure it happens for generations to come?”
Manuela threw her head back, laughing heartily at Cora’s words. A smile that fizzed with naughty approval. “I like you, Cora,” she said after a long moment, and Cora found herself wishing for more than that. She felt so good in Cora’s arms. All of it was too good. The lies she’d told herself even that morning about where they stood shifted almost by the second.
A loud knock on the door pulled them out of their comfortable embrace. “That must be the footman with your clothes,” Cora said, moving to get up. “I’ll get it.”
“Yes, thank you.” Manuela beamed as if Cora had ordered her a stable of ponies. “I am supposed to go to Académie Pasquale today with Cassandra and Claudine, so I’ll have to get dressed eventually.”
“Don’t let Cassandra rope you into one of her passion projects,” Cora warned, making Manuela laugh.
“I think I’m the one talking her into things,” she said cheerfully as Cora left to get the door. Cora frowned at that. She knew Cassandra and Manuela had gotten together, but her friend hadn’t mentioned anything about joint projects. “I’ve been thinking about that essay by Frede’s grandmother is all. I had some ideas for a collective I discussed with Cassandra.”
Cora froze, just as she was about to reach for the handle of the door and turned to look at Manuela. Was she thinking of staying? Was she considering calling off her engage—
Cora stopped herself, before she went down a path she could absolutely not go down. If she was going to have a chance at returning to London, she could not leave a trail of scandal in her wake. She could absolutely not afford a single misstep. The French could handle a dalliance, but anything beyond that was more than she could risk when the stakes were this high. Getting herself embroiled with a jilted groom with enough resources to make a fuss was out of the question.
“You can put the bag there,” she said distractedly, before realizing it wasn’t a footman but her assistant Maggie with the Gladstone in hand. A very harried-looking Maggie at that.
“My apologies, Your Grace.” The girl looked petrified, her face pale as a ghost. Cora didn’t need to ask if something was wrong. For her assistant to be at her private bedchamber’s door when she’d asked not to be bothered, there had to be an emergency. “I know you asked not to be disturbed,” she rushed to say before Cora could rebuke her. “But this morning you are scheduled to meet with Monsieur Grinaud about the building. It’s in one hour,” she whispered.
Grinaud. The building.
“Mierda,” Cora spat, immediately furious with herself. She’d been so distracted with Manuela she’d forgotten a meeting she’d been trying to secure for almost six months. A meeting she’d had to bribe half of Paris to secure. “Have the carriage brought around and send my lady’s maid. I’ll be ready to go in thirty minutes.”
Cora closed the door behind Maggie, self-recrimination churning in her gut. Pulling her shoulders back and schooling her face into an impassive mask, she walked back into the room.“I have to go,” she told Manuela as she handed her the bag without looking at her.
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. Cora hardened herself to it. “Can I come with you?”
Instantly her mind began producing reasons to say yes. She could drop her off at Cassandra’s. If she took Manuela with her, she could ask her about this collective business. But those were only excuses to stay with her longer, to break the rules of what they’d agreed on.
“That won’t be possible,” Cora said, staring at a spot directly over Manuela’s head. “I will ask my other driver to deliver you home. I’ll send a maid to help you dress.”
Manuela stayed silent, her eyes searching, clearly trying to figure out what had gone wrong in the last two minutes.
“Will I see you tonight, then?” Cora ground her teeth at the guilt slicing through her. God, what had she been thinking? She couldn’t do this.
“I have plans tonight,” she lied, still not looking at Manuela. “But there are more outings to fulfill.” From her peripheral vision she saw the pained flinch on Manuela’s face. It took everything she had not to go to her. “I’d like to take you to the opera next.”
“I leave for Scotland on Sunday morning.”
“Scotland?” She winced at the alarm in her voice. Manuela only stared at her.
“My friend Luz Alana is there. She’s just been married. Aurora and I are to join her for a week.”
“I see.” She tried to tell herself this was for the best. Distance was exactly what they needed. “I will send a seamstress to your house tomorrow, then, for the opera. We will go on Saturday, before you depart.”
“I have dresses,” Manuela said quietly. “I have a whole new trousseau.”
“I would like to give you this one,” she said once she could speak, and whatever Manuela saw on her face was enough to make her agree. By the time Cora came down to the foyer to go to her meeting, Manuela was gone.
Seventeen
Manuela was still debatingwhether she was dejected or furious at Cora’s behavior as she walked to the Académie Pasquale.
“You know, for all that you’ve been informing me of every minute detail of your little adventure with the duchess, I thought I would hear something about last night,” Aurora complained as they turned the corner of the Boulevard Montmartre. “You’ve barely spoken since you returned to the house.”
