CHAPTER 13
Winsome watched John sleep. With his face relaxed, he bore a great resemblance to the young man whose attentions she had craved long ago. He was, indeed, beautiful, from his strong boned face to his powerful body, but his thick lashes imparted him with a softness that would have surprised a great many people. She gathered up her robe, dressed, and silently left his room. Although she may have wished the night never to end, she had no intention of causing a scandal.
By day, she was friendly toward him, though her mirror showed another face, one softer around the mouth with larger sparking eyes. By night she continued learn more about her body and his, desperately enjoying what little she could have of him. She would have loved to languish in his arms the whole night long, but that would never be her role.
By the end of the six-day stay, she could barely cope with the thought of being parted from him. Her body throbbed in places she didn’t know existed. Her mind tumbled around the ways in which they could secretly meet, all the time knowing inside that to continue the relationship would be impossible. No matter how much she desired him, she could never shame her family by becoming his mistress.
He toyed with her hand in the coach on the way home. Every now and then, he kissed her knuckles, or a single finger, or her palm. His touch was warm and confident. When her eyes grew moist at the thought of losing him, she took her hand back and curled her fingers around the places his lips had touched, wishing she could keep his kisses forever. But kisses, like thoughts, could not be contained.
She stared out the window. The closer racking of the buildings indicated that the carriage had entered the city mile. She cleared her throat, which appeared to have swollen with emotion. “The level of debauchery in a country houses has now risen a few notches. I’m glad that I had the chance to participate. Thanks to you, John, I had a perfect week.” Her chest could barely contain the ache as she glanced at his very dear face.
His forehead momentarily creased. “If anyone should be thanked it would be you, my perfect bed partner.”
She placed a frozen hand on his upper arm, and forced a laugh that she hoped sounded politely regretful. “Although we’ve been pretending to ourselves, we know this relationship can’t continue. I can’t lie to my parents and I can’t live a life of subterfuge. We will have some wonderful memories, though, we surely will.” She couldn’t meet his gaze.
He kissed her hand again. “We shall have a lifetime of this. You don’t have to live in my pocket but—”
“I have to get back to my real life,” she said, hoping her voice expressed nothing other than polite regret. “I’m sure you don’t wish to keep sneaking around with me in the city. It isn’t so hard to do when you are with strangers, but friends and family will soon notice if I keep disappearing.”
“I don’t intend to sneak around, my precious one. I plan to ask your father for your hand, today. You must know that. I would never have spent the week making love to you, if my intentions hadn’t been honorable.” He straightened.
Her heart skipped a beat. For a single moment she allowed herself to imagine being married to a man like John, a gentleman in the true sense of the word. Aside from admiring his physicality, she enjoyed his intelligence and she appreciated his dry humor. In his arms, her ordinary spinster self became a wicked sensuous being.
Although the impossible dream of being his wife tempted her, she had to face reality. If she married a man who admired honor above all, proven by his proposal, he would hate her forever if he ever found out she was the artist who had made him miserable for years with her wretched cartoons. “That’s sweet of you, John, but not necessary.”
“Come, Win. Surely you don’t want me to think you were merely using my body?”
“You can’t fault my taste.”
“You’re not talking sense, my love. You may discover that you have to marry me.”
She turned away. “Not unless anyone knows we have been lovers, and I don’t plan to say a word.”
“You won’t be speechless if your belly starts to swell.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, John. Must you be so honorable? We would be miserable together.”
He twisted his signet ring around his finger. “I want a child. If I find you are bearing mine, I will carry you off to the altar by force if necessary.” His gaze met hers.
She tittered like a maiden aunt. The chance of her bearing a child was somewhere between impossible and improbable. “Carrying off a lady is not at all in your noble style. Smolder for a while if you wish, but please find a lovely young lady who can bear your children and run your household to perfection.” She folded her hands together to stop the trembling. “I have other plans.”
“I suppose you mean your art.” He drew his mouth into a thin line, turning his ruby ring around again and again.
“Of course. I’m far too selfish to give up my freedom. I’ve had my own way for years.”
He stared directly at her, his middle finger and his thumb holding his ring in place. “I wish you would be honest with me.”
The silence lingered. He hadn’t given up. If he persisted, she would. She wanted nothing more than to be with him forever, but for his mention of a child. Had he said anything other than that, she might have reconsidered. However, she had already taken too much from him. She couldn’t take the possibility of being a father away from him too. “The truth is, John, you are too stuffy for me.”
His back stiffened. “Stuffy?”
“Ten years ago you let me fondle you in a cupboard. Did I enjoy that? Yes. I thought it was great fun. But you made me feel soiled when you ignored me thereafter. You ran off to town and hid from me for years.” She added outrage to her tone.
His eyebrows drew together. “Not deliberately, though I’ll admit my mind didn’t linger on the incident. For all I knew, yours didn’t either. Why would it? Young people touch each other. As long as no damage is done, I accept that as part of life. And because I was a normal callow young male, you now refuse to marry me?”
Her heart cracked. Perfect John. Always so reasonable: always so truthful. And speaking to a woman who was neither reasonable nor truthful. Before she had a chance to ruin his life, she found a bland smile. “I never intended to marry you.”
“What has this last week been about?”
“Nothing as long term as marriage. I am perfectly content to be a spinster. The fact that I hadn’t taken a lover before you is purely incidental.”
His fingers beat an impatient tattoo on his thigh. “So, I came along at the right moment, did I?”
“For me, yes. I simply wanted to show you that if you hadn’t ignored me for all these years, that you might have missed something in your life.”
“I am quite willing to admit that I did.”
“But I didn’t want to keep you, John. I only wanted to teach you a lesson.”
“Making love to you, my dear, is no punishment.”
“That part was very pleasant. The punishment was otherwise.” She drew a deep breath, willing the glassiness of her eyes not to turn into tears. “I am the cartoonist you are searching for. I used you as my model for a vapid gentleman about town.”
His face turned as pale as his shirt collar. “Payback? But how very ignoble of you, my dear.”
“Indeed. Unlike you, I have not a single noble bone in my body.”
“And a very beautiful body at that. Never have I enjoyed a woman more. Unfortunately your willingness to use me and discard me, makes you no better than a common whore.”
She moved back. His words had affected her like a slap in the face, which she well deserved. She used every ounce of emotion she could draw from his low opinion, to rearrange her face into a cool mask of indifference.
Whether he smoldered in his own corner, she couldn’t say. She didn’t glance at him again.