Abandon (7 page)

Lucy had tossed and turned the entire night, unable to stopping thinking about her proposal and wondering what Aubrey’s answer would be. After all what did he have to lose? He could spend his next week in her bed at night and what man in his right mind would decline the chance to bed a woman, any woman? Admittedly, she did not have that much experience with men, but she did not think that most males would refuse her scheme if a woman offered the same to them.

She could feel her cheeks heat thinking of the brazen manner she had propositioned him. But trying to ignore him had not worked. Perhaps he would decide that she was no longer worth pursuing. He had been somewhat cool last evening, though she had not expected that he would throw her down on the floor and ravish her. Lucy had not forgiven Aubrey for leaving her, but maybe she would be able to purge him from her thoughts if they spent their nights together for the next week. Perhaps this was the best way to get her out of her system.

Seeing him again after five years had stirred up all sorts of feelings that she thought suppressed from her life, visions that now only appeared in the occasional dream. She had made her peace, she thought, and her life was fine as it was. She never expected to marry and she had a fulfilling life and a daily routine in Yorkshire. If she had occasionally yearned for something different, it was of no matter.

She finished dressing and wandered down the stairs to the kitchen. Since it was just her and Mr. and Mrs. Brundage in the house, she had fallen into the habit of taking her breakfast in the kitchen at the wide table. There was no sense in making the housekeeper prepare a tray for her or set up the dining room. Lucy was quite comfortable with the Brundages whom she had known since she was a child.

Mrs. Brundage was busy kneading bread at the table. When Richard and his family were in residence, there were many more servants and a cook to prepare their meals. But the housekeeper was quite capable of providing nourishing and flavorful meals for Lucy.

“Good morning!” Lucy said brightly.

“And a good morning to you, my lady.” The rosy-cheeked woman smiled at Lucy. “What would you like to eat this day? Anything special? I have kippers left from Mr. Brundage’s meal.”

“Thank you, no to the kippers. I think I would just like some fruit and a cup of chocolate. My stomach is a little unsettled this morning and I did not sleep well, so I would like something light to eat.”

“Right away, my lady. Would you rather have tea? I can make up a cup that would calm your insides.” Mrs. Brundage was practically clucking at Lucy.

“No, the chocolate will be fine. I do not often indulge in a sweet treat and I am enjoying it while I can do so here.”

Mrs. Brundage looked at her oddly and Lucy realized that chocolate was available at her brother Richard’s table every morning and the housekeeper likely knew it. She bit her lip, hoping that the woman would not inquire further. She was already suspicious of her because Lucy had not brought her maid or any other servants. Richard had sent her in his coach so Mrs. Brundage accepted that the Earl was aware of her visit, but in the housekeeper’s experience young ladies did not travel without their maids. Unless she went out with Harriet, Lucy stayed in the house as she did not want to offend the woman any further.

“I think I will just take a tray out into the garden. It is such a beautiful day.” Lucy decided it would be better to be away from Mrs. Brundage’s scrutiny.

The housekeeper gave her a shrewd glance, but nodded and prepared the tray. She held open the door while Lucy passed out into the back where there was a small garden. Her sister-in-law Anne often broke her fast out there when in town or they had their tea at the small table set out there in the shade.

She set the tray down and sat down with a sigh. Aubrey had said that he would render his decision today, but she did not know when she would see him - unless at the ball they were both supposed to attend tonight? Lucy was not sure whether at this point she wanted him to say yes or to refuse her. She wanted to believe that if he said yes, then they would both be ready to move on after the wedding. But there was a small niggle of doubt that while he might be ready to leave her again, the experience might leave her devastated again. At least she would be prepared this time. She picked up her chocolate and took a sip.

Aubrey put down his brush and stepped back, studying the portrait on his easel critically. He still did not have the look in her eyes exactly. But her lips curved in a smile that he hoped to see her mirror later that day. Her proposition had surprised, even shocked him, but there was not a chance in the world that he was going to refuse her. He had asked for time only to ensure that Lucy knew her own mind. If she insisted on the one week deadline, he would reluctantly agree all the while knowing that he would never fulfill that pledge. Lucy was his forever even if she did not yet acknowledge it. Aubrey knew that there would never be another woman for him.

He walked over to the window. He had slept soundly and arisen early this morning, eager to work at his painting. He glanced to the left to the backyard of the adjoining house. Richard, Earl of Wakefield seldom came to town, much like his father before him. His townhouse was only half the size of Aubrey’s home since the family rarely used it, only when the House of Lords was in session. While Aubrey had a sizable garden in the back of his house, Wakefield had a tiny plot of land. Lady Lovell's gardeners kept Aubrey's garden in rigorous control, sterile in precise rows of plants and nary a flower to be found. Wakefield’s oasis rioted in bright colors and green leaves that straggled across the yard and should have overwhelmed the tiny plot, but instead gave it a life that never crossed the wall between the houses.

There was a movement next door and he saw Lucy sitting out in the sunlight sipping a cup of something, tea maybe. He smiled, watching her stare out at her garden, knowing that she was unaware of his presence. He turned and threw a cloth over the easel and pulled off the smock he used to protect his clothes, then passed out of the room. He went down the stairs and through the hallway to the sunny conservatory off the back corner of the house. There was a door and path there that lead to the back gate. From there he could step down the lane to the gateway into Wakefield’s backyard.

The gate was unlocked and Aubrey walked into the yard and over to where Lucy sat at a small table. She looked up startled as the gate opened and he saw her tense as she recognized him. She put both her hands in her lap and waited for him to seat himself.

Aubrey did not intend to tease Lucy, but he was glad to see that his decision mattered to her. She would not be so edgy if she did not care and that gave him hope that he was on the right path.

“Good morning, Lucy,” he said. “Such a lovely day, don’t you think?”

Lucy blinked, but replied with a slight edge, “Yes, lovely.”

“And how did you sleep last night?”

“That is a somewhat personal question to ask a lady!” Yes, she was definitely irritated, Aubrey thought. And she did not look as if she had slept very well last night.

“Excuse me, my lady, but if I concede to your request, then I think that personal questions might become formalities.”

Two spots of red appeared on Lucy’s cheeks and her eyes narrowed. Aubrey liked to see Lucy unsettled, but he thought it might be time for a strategic retreat.

“But never mind all that. I have thought a lot about your proposal and I have decided to agree with some conditions of my own.”

“What conditions?” Lucy asked.

“If we decide to continue our liaison after the wedding, then that decision will suspend your condition about one week as the duration of our dalliance.”

“That won’t happen. I will be returning home after Harriet’s wedding.”

“Perhaps I will be able to charm you into staying in London. Or if I return home to Lovell Moor then we will certainly be in proximity.” Aubrey had no intention of continuing their arrangement as a liaison, but as a much more permanent arrangement. Still, he wanted to test her resolve.

“We will not meet in Yorkshire, Lord Lovell. That is one thing that I am sure of.” Lucy was emphatic.

“Perhaps. But I believe we should leave that option open. Do you not agree?”

“I care not. For my part our relationship ends on the day of Harriet and George’s wedding. You can believe anything you wish.” Lucy was reacting to his teasing much as the young girl she had once been and Aubrey suppressed a grin.

“Then I agree to your proposition,” he said and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as Lucy’s mouth gaped.

“What?”

“I am honored to accept your proposal, Lady Lucilla. Now that that’s out of the way I have something I would like to show you.”

“Now?”

Aubrey could see Lucy’s mind boggling right before his eyes as her thoughts misinterpreted his current intentions. His own hopes were in alignment with her thoughts, but he could wait until the evening to consummate their agreement. He had no intention of ruining her reputation.

“Yes, would you come with me next door? I would like your opinions on some of my paintings. I have always found your observations to be of value and I have no one else to show them to.”

Lucy took a deep breathe, eying him suspiciously. “Of course, I am delighted. I’m so glad that you are still painting.”

“That was pretty much all I did during my time in Italy.” He stood and held out his arm to escort her to his home. “Come.”

Lucy laid her arm on top of Aubrey’s and allowed him to escort her through the back gate, down the lane, and into his yard. She briefly thought about Mrs. Brundage watching her leave unchaperoned with a strange man, but she decided that she could deal with that later when she returned. After all, as far as the housekeeper knew, Aubrey St. Clare was just a neighbor, someone from Lucy’s youth.

Aubrey led her from the conservatory out into a hallway where a startled footman hastily turned away when he saw his master enter with an unknown female. Lucy pulled on his arm a little, but he continued on up the stairs to the second floor where he had situated his studio. Lucy’s eyes widened as they walked past several bedrooms including the master, but he did not stop. She relaxed as he opened the door to his studio and she could see that the room was plainly used for his painting.

He walked over to where he had several canvases stacked against a wall and started to turn them so they faced her in a line down an empty section of wall. They were all scenes of Italy, countryside with tall green trees laden with yellow lemons, cityscapes of small crooked houses painted in pastel colors, and seascapes with small sailboats with brightly colored sails. Aubrey stepped back as Lucy came forward and bent to study the painting on the end. She slowly moved down the line, standing and stooping at each scene.

Aubrey watched her, admiring her grace and her form as she studied his work. He was nervous that she might not like the pictures, but that feeling was overtaken by his joy at having her here in his home. Just two weeks before he thought he might never see her again and now she was here and would be his forever if he had anything to say about it. He was sure that he would be able to persuade her. They had been so in love in their youth. He had never fallen out of love with her and he knew that she felt the same about him. She was just having more difficulty coming to realize it. Aubrey knew that Lucy had agreed to bed him because she thought that would get him out of her heart and mind. He intended that her scheme fail and she became more entangled with him instead.

He purposely stepped next to her, subtly inhaling the scent of lavender emanating from her hair.  She did not look at him as she asked, “Are these paintings of Italy from the area where you were living?”

“Yes, they are from La Spezia and the Ligurian region where I lived for the last five years.”

Lucy nodded, still examining the pictures. “They are lovely, Aubrey. You have grown as an artist. These are worthy of exhibition at the Royal Academy.”

“Thank you, Lucy.” He swallowed hard, forcing the words from his throat. Aubrey could not find any other words. Lucy had always been honest and she had an innate gift for color and detail in her criticisms. If she liked the paintings, then that was enough to gratify him.

“There are no people in them. You used to do portraits.”

“The only person I have ever painted is you.”

She finally turned to him, her eyes wide in surprise. “Surely that is not so.”

“I am afraid that it is true.” He let out a self-deprecating puff of sound and shrugged. “You are my muse, Lucy. That has always been the truth. It still is and always will be true.”

Aubrey reached for her hand and pulled her across the room to where another stack of canvases laid facing against the wall. He took the first one and turned it around so that Lucy could see the portrait of herself sitting on her horse, her hair flying loose as she turned to look at something off to the side. The next canvas showed Lucy sitting on a wall, her arms full of wildflowers. A smaller canvas showed a sleeping Lucy lying on a blanket under one of the elm trees that bordered a meadow where she and Aubrey had often gone to picnic. Picture after picture showed Lucy in different poses, smiling or thoughtful gazes looking out from the different portraits. The last one showed Lucy nude on a blanket, one hand shyly covering her nether curls while the other hand curled over her head. Her hair was down, just barely covering one pink-tipped breast.

She drew in a deep breathe. “I did not pose for any of these,” she said.

“I know. I did them all from memory while I was in Italy.”

“You were thinking of me?” Aubrey could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the flash of doubt, and he pulled her to him.

“Every minute,” he said and crushed his lips to hers. She moaned and he pulled her closer until he could feel her breasts heaving against his chest. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she responded with her own, swirling and mating with his.

Aubrey pivoted, pulling Lucy around and against the wall. Her hands were around his neck and pulling on his hair, trying to join his mouth back to hers, but he did not care. He nipped down the side of her neck, nibbling tenderly where her pulse beat in her throat. He pulled the fichu out of the neck of her dress and hooked a finger inside the bodice, trying to pull it down while he rained kissed across her chest. There was a rip and Lucy gasped, but Aubrey was n0t going to stop now. A plump ivory breast tumbled out and into his greedy mouth while he gently squeezed the other. She was moaning in a constant low undertone; his Lucy had always been vocal in her lovemaking.

Her nipple was turgid and he suckled, then laved it with his tongue. His cock ached in the confines of his breeches and he stood back up to take her mouth again. He lifted her body against the wall and put his knee between her legs so that he could press against her, trying to find some relief for his throbbing member.

They both froze when there was a knock at the door. Aubrey turned his head to stare as if he could see through the wood and force whoever was there away.

“My lord,” a voice called.

He closed his eyes and tried to gain control of his errant body, stepping away from Lucy. She gasped and put her breast away inside the torn remnants of her dress. She searched the ground frantically for her fichu and dove for it as if the lacy piece could still cover the bare expanse of her chest.

Aubrey sighed and called out, “Yes, what is it?”

The voice, one of his footmen, John, he thought, replied. “Baron Aversley is downstairs to see you, my lord. He said you had an appointment to go out.”

Aubrey closed his eyes and shook his head. “Fine, yes, I will be there in a moment. Please let him know I will be delayed for a short time.” He reached down to adjust himself, then studied Lucy’s attempt at making herself presentable.

“Here,” he grabbed the smock he used to cover his clothes when painting. “Try this. I’m sorry, both that I ripped your dress and that I let this get out of hand. I forgot that I had a meeting with George this morning. He wants my advice on a bridal gift for Harriet before we all leave for his estate for the wedding week.”

Lucy had her eyes cast down as she wrapped herself in the smock. “It is fine. I should never have come up here alone with you.”

Aubrey reached out and clasped her lightly by the upper arms. “Lucy, it is my fault entirely. I did want you to see my paintings.” He grinned. “And I intended to wait until tonight when we are in your bed to..”

Lucy interrupted her face a bright red. “No, please, I do not know. Perhaps we should not...”

“Yes, we should.” Aubrey cut her off, shaking her slightly to emphasize his words. He did not want her to have any doubts at this stage and he emphasized his seriousness. “You agreed, Lucy. As a matter of fact you were the initiator, not that it took any great urging on my part. You and I are meant to be together and this is just the first step. Again, I apologize for my premature actions, but I have been thinking about us together for a very, very long time.” He smiled at her. “But I think I can wait for a few more hours.”

Lucy bit her lip and then nodded her head. “Is that what you intend, to come to my bed?”

“If it is agreeable to you, I think that would be best. You have fewer servants to worry about than I. I will escort you home from the Mautravers’ ball this evening and slip inside with you as long as no one is about. And speaking of that, I will see you home now before we raise George’s suspicions. I can take you back the way we came in.”

“But your servants,” Lucy twisted the fichu in her hands, having given up on replacing it in her torn bodice.

“They are discreet. It will be fine, Lucilla.” He caressed her cheek softly. He did not think they would gossip but no one but no one would care once she was his wife. “Come, we should go.”