Courtesan's Kiss (30 page)

Was this right? She didn’t care. It felt right and she kept moving until she could feel the explosion of satisfaction envelop them both. She heard herself cry out, “This
is too much, too much,” even though it wasn’t and never would be.

David seemed to know that, too, though he did not react with words but by holding her hips against him, so that they were still but for the immense pulsing sensation that bound them together. Then she lay on top of him, wanting to feel their whole bodies touch. They stayed still as statues for a long time, until Mia began to doze. She slid down beside him again.

Sex could not be this wonderful with every man, or every time. If it was, then courtesans would be the happiest people in the world.

She cuddled beside him and wondered why husbands and wives slept apart. Mia felt him kiss her on the head again. That was one place where his kisses were not at all arousing.

He should be kissing her with passion, declaring his undying love. This was like being kissed by a cousin or some distant relative, an old one at that.

“Mia, you have to sleep in your own room. You cannot be here in the morning when the maid comes to light the fire.”

“Must you always be practical? I do not care who knows we are lovers.” She buried her face in his neck and kissed the tender skin there.

“But I do.” He turned so he could look down at her. She loved the feeling of being overwhelmed by his size, his strength, his manliness. She loved it so much that she almost missed his next sentence. “Mia, this must be our secret.”

He sat up, and though she hoped she made a pretty picture lying on the bed with her hair curling and her body his for the taking, David did not sweep her into his arms and declare devotion, but turned away.

“For how long?” she asked, finally giving up the hope of more kissing. “Until I am twenty-one, or for as long as you can hide it from the duke and Elena?”

David moved from the bed and stood, magnificently naked, broad-shouldered, with a body that would tempt a nun. He grabbed her chemise from the floor and tossed it to her.

“Mia, do not start an argument. Put on your chemise and go to your room.”

“No.” She sat up and wiggled to the far edge of the bed, putting some distance between them. Two angry people close to each other had to be as unwise as two aroused people. “You must explain to me how you can make such love to me one minute and the next be as practical and as cold as you are to a stranger.”

“Because I have some common sense. We are not going to parade this relationship from here to Pennford unless you wish to announce our engagement!”

“
Dio mio
, no!” She scrambled out of bed and pulled her chemise on. She found her ruined dress, her petticoat. As she looked for her other garments and slippers she glanced at David. “I will do what you say. I will tell no one. I can even make up a story for Janina.”

David nodded. “It will give both of us time to decide what we are going to do. Mia, you know what we must do if you are pregnant?”

She’d never thought of that.

“Yes, I can see by your expression that it never occurred to you when you were pulling pins from your hair and otherwise making yourself irresistible.”

She would not be pregnant. If she was, she would have to go off to Scotland and pretend to be a widow and what would she do with the darling baby after he was born? She could not give up a child, David’s child.

“It would mean marriage.”

“No!” Mia tried to control the feeling of panic at the thought. “I could never marry someone who does so because they must.” She felt ill at the thought that she would have no say.
Dio mio
, was this to be her whole life, never having a chance to make her own choices? Or did one choice dictate others not as desirable?

“We will talk about it later. Go now.”

Mia wanted to argue about it. To annoy him so much, to make him so angry that all his bad feelings were used up and the love he must hide somewhere came out.

Because she knew he had feelings for her; she could feel them. He could not touch her as he had, hold her, make love to her, without them. She knew him that well. David Pennistan had compromised himself tonight, and he’d done it because of how he felt about her. And there was only one way to make him see that.

“No, David, we will not talk about it later. This is the end. When you find you can speak of love, when your first worry is not your precious cotton mill, then, if you are very lucky, you can find me and beg me to take you back.”

Without waiting for an answer, Mia tiptoed across the
passage and into her room. The candle that Nina had left flickered its last light, the colors of the elegant room as muted as her spirits. At least the door to the dressing room was closed.

Dropping her clothes in a pile on the floor, Mia slid under the covers and closed her eyes, hoping that David was as wide awake as she was.

Marriage wasn’t the only option if she was with child. She could go to America as a widow, and after it was born stay and raise the child there. She had the money, but it was unlikely that David would allow that.

She could give the child to David to raise, but to never see her own child, never be a part of his life, well, that could not be borne.

There must be other possibilities, something besides marriage to a man who did not love her. She fell asleep telling herself that the chance of pregnancy the first or second time a person shared love must be very rare.

W
HEN
D
AVID WENT TO BREAKFAST
the next morning he found himself alone. Cantwell told him that Franklin and Kyle were at the river, angling, and the ladies were taking breakfast in their rooms.

“Miss Castellano,” Cantwell began, and David noted that he did not group her with the other women, “is dressing for a visit to the village. She said that before you leave for Pennford there is one call she must make.”

“Tell her we leave before noon.”

Cantwell nodded and left the room.

In the study he set about putting away the plans and papers that he now knew as well as he knew the road home. He should be thinking about what to tell the duke and how to convince his brother to support the venture wholly.

But all he could think about was how and when to announce his engagement to Mia. There was no doubt in his mind that they must marry. The sex had sealed their fate, even if the two of them never breathed a word of it to anyone. Even if neither of them wanted it. Not because he had ruined her, at least not entirely, but because he knew that his longing was too great to overcome.

If his lust for Mia wore out in time, then they would be no different from the rest of society’s married couples, though they would be an oddity in the Pennistan family. First Gabriel, then Olivia, and, most recently, the duke himself had married their lovers and seemed the better for it.

Yes, there were periods when Olivia spent more time in the kitchen than seemed necessary, or the duke spoke in short, curt sentences. Both actions meant arguments with their spouses. But bright smiles from Olivia and a much more relaxed air from Lyn far outweighed the discontent.

If his marriage was not a success then he would accept it as the cost of one night of the most perfect lovemaking he had ever known.

Once Mia Castellano was Lady David Pennistan, he could refocus on what was most important. Financing for the cotton mill. Employment, money, a step toward the
future that the Meryon dukedom badly needed. And success that had eluded him for so long.

He finished with his leather traveling bag and then turned to the bookshelves to find the ideal engagement present for his adventurous bride-to-be. Along with something that glittered, so Mia would not even notice that love was not part of his declaration.

He was capable of love. He had learned that in Mexicado, and learned the cost of it so well that he would never make the mistake of loving again.

“M
ISS
C
ASTELLANO, IT IS
a pleasure to meet you.” Miss Horner curtsied gracefully, despite the boy hanging on her leg.

“Mary, I want to play ball and Robert won’t come outdoors with me. He’s reading.” The boy’s disgust with the written word was obvious.

“It’s that kind of day, is it not,” Mia said, trying to ease Miss Horner’s embarrassment at her brother’s interruption. “The sky is so blue, with a few clouds to make sky-watching interesting.”

“What is sky-watching?” the boy asked, still clutching his sister’s leg.

“You lie on your back and watch the clouds until you find one that looks like something you know, like a rabbit or barn.”

“It sounds like a
girl’s
game,” the boy said scornfully.

“How old are you?” Mia asked.

“Almost six.”

“He turned five a week ago.”

“Five is a fine age, Master Horner. Old enough to sky-watch all by yourself.”

“Thank you, miss.” He bowed to Mia and ran off toward the back of the house.

“What good manners.”

“It’s baking day. He knows there are treats in the kitchen, so he will detour that way before he tries sky-watching. Do you know more games? I could always use new ideas.”

“Oh, I have an endless supply. I was easily bored as a child and my papa was very good at finding things for me to do.”

“Then you will be well prepared when you have your own family.”

Mia nodded, but she had to work to keep smiling. What would she do if she was pregnant already? What sort of games did David play as a boy? Would he want to teach them to a son, or would he leave all that to the babe’s mother and nurse?

“I was about to step outside and see what flowers might be ready for cutting,” Miss Horner continued, blithely unaware of the direction of Mia’s thoughts. Thank heaven. “Would you like a walk in the garden with me?”

“That would be lovely.”

A door slammed and a girl, older than the boy but still
young, came pelting down the stairs. She stopped short when she saw her sister with a visitor.

“Elizabeth, Mama is resting in the parlor. Please move about more quietly.”

Well, Mia thought, that was one good reason not to have this conversation in the parlor, of which there appeared to be only one.

“Mama is asleep?” The girl covered her mouth with one hand and whispered, “Oh, Mary, I am so sorry. I promise to be as quiet as a mouse.” Elizabeth eyed the newcomer with curiosity but merely nodded to both of them as she went toward the back of the house on tiptoes.

As Mia and Miss Horner headed out to her garden, her hostess filled the silence with talk of weather.

Mia wondered at Miss Horner’s placid demeanor. More than that, she exuded an air of serenity that was as relaxing as sitting in the shade. It was more than show, for she had not said one harsh word to her brother and sister. Mia suspected that “selfish” was not a word in Miss Horner’s vocabulary.

“Don’t you agree, Miss Castellano? The hours of summer sun are not nearly as tiring as the short winter days.”

“Yes,” Mia said as Mary opened the garden gate. “I always want to sleep in the winter, but in the—” Mia stopped talking abruptly, her mind filled with the beauty in front of her.

The garden was a wonder, an explosion of color tempered by green, enlivened still more by light, and shade from one tree on the far edge of the walled space.

Reds, yellows, purples, blues, all competed for attention. The luxurious white blooms gave the eye some rest. There were large flowers like the hydrangea and others smaller, so small they bloomed in clusters so they would not be missed. Even the moss between the stepping-stones was lush.

“My apologies for knowing so little about flowers, Miss Horner, except that I love them. Your garden is exceptional.”

“But that is the joy of flowers, is it not?” her hostess said reassuringly. “One does not need to know anything about them to enjoy them.”

Mary Horner led her to a bench in the shade of the tree where a jug and some glasses were set under a linen cloth. Mia was slow joining her, stopping to smell and admire, and envy the bees who visited one bud after another, obviously drunk with delight.

When Miss Horner offered her a glass of lemonade, Mia laughed. “You are fey and you knew I was coming.”

“I always have the maid bring some here after breakfast so I can stay out as long as possible. And the boys help weed and I reward them with a glass.”

The lemonade had more lemons than sugar. And where did Miss Horner find lemons? The tang was the perfect counterpoint to the garden’s overwhelming sweet smell.

Now that they were seated with their drinks, Mia could not quite think of how to start this conversation.

“Mr. Novins says that you are the liveliest woman he
has ever met,” Miss Horner began, “and we are all so relieved that the food poisoning did not cause any lasting harm.”

“Thank you,” Mia said as graciously as she could. Then she added, “Mr. Novins talks about me?”

“Constantly,” Miss Horner added in a dry voice.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” Mia echoed Elizabeth’s phrase, with equal sincerity. “I know how wearing that can be. Let me assure you that Lord David considers my liveliness a besetting sin.”
Except in bed
, Mia added very quietly, to herself.