“Oh!” Her eyes lit up—not with shock, but with joy. “How exciting. We must stay a little longer then. We can go after.”
Lyman ran a hand through his hair. He wouldn’t be surprised if he went entirely gray before the night was done.
On the opposite balcony, a white canvas curtain had dropped from the ceiling before the band and conductor, shielding them from view. It was painted with an image of a town. A cobblestone street with white plaster houses and a blue sky above. From one house, a man’s face could be seen in the window, peeping out. The band began to play again from their hiding place, the flutes and oboe lilting out a gentle melody. No one dared to dance to it. They were all transfixed by the scene on the balcony above.
A wooden horse was led slowly before the curtain by a woman who must have been assisted by some unseen mechanism, for it looked far too heavy for her. It had been carved and painted with attention to realism, then fitted with a bridle and saddle. The womanwas dressed austerely, in the plain, dark clothes of a servant with an old-fashioned veil around her head.
“You told me there wouldn’t be any animals!” Miss Danby reminded him, her voice full of laughter. “It doesn’t look large enough to be the siege of Troy. Did Zeus ever seduce a lady disguised as a horse? He tricked so many women I can hardly keep track.”
“I think it’s to be Lady Godiva.”
“Oh, of course!” She was smiling brightly, her toffee-colored eyes as eager as a child awaiting a present. How did she maintain such enthusiasm for everything?
All my endeavors are things that I love, she’d said.So I’m always enjoying myself.
She’d seemed to mean it. Lyman couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to go through life that way. He would have said he was envious of her, but that wasn’t the right word for this feeling. Envy made one petty and resentful. He wouldn’t wish for Miss Danby to lose this flame, even if he longed for a spark of his own.
What he wanted might have been to bask in her light a little longer. A foolish, dangerous desire.
Another woman entered the scene, apparently nude, though Lyman considered it likely she was wearing fleshings. It was hard to tell from a distance. Regardless, it was a very convincing approximation of nudity, and the crowd murmured their appreciation. She had long blond hair that cascaded down her back, andonlyher back.
“They don’t seem terribly concerned with faithfulness to the story,” Lyman observed wryly. “I thought she used her hair to hide her nakedness.”
Miss Danby laughed at this, though she quickly suppressed it. He almost regretted scolding her earlier; it was a beautiful sound.
A laugh isn’t worth being found out over. You should have left already.
He glanced back to the balcony. Lady Godiva had mounted thehorse with the aid of a step cleverly carved into its curved leg and hoof, and now assumed her pose, fearlessly braving the streets of Coventry. She and the serving woman held perfectly still for a long minute. Like statues.
Before them, Miss Annabelle was likewise frozen. The poor child was probably so shocked she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“We should really—”
Lyman’s words died in his throat as a hand crept over his knee, coming to rest midway up his thigh.Miss Danby’shand. Her touch was hot even through the wool of his trousers.
Lyman went as still as the actors onstage, too stunned to react.
It was suddenly far too warm in here, with the acrid smoke of a dozen cigars mingling into the noise and heat of all these people. He couldn’t think clearly before the sight of a naked woman posing for all the room to see, while a much more inviting reality sat at his side.
Now he understood. This was why he’d agreed to come tonight, despite his better judgment. This was why he’d allowed Miss Danby to lead him about without any regard for her own safety. Some unacknowledged part of him had hoped (perhaps even known) that this would happen. That she was willing, and he was badly wanting.
Her thumb brushed a slow line across his thigh, and Lyman’s cock stiffened in response. She was playing him effortlessly, and he needed to stop it before things went too far. He clamped his hand down atop hers, fully intending to push her away.
But he didn’t.
He stalled there, locked in place, unable to make himself end this.
You can’t have her. You know you can’t.
Lyman’s throat had gone dry. He finally turned to look at Miss Danby and saw exactly what he expected on her face. The promise of mischief that always lurked in her impish grin, finally made good.
I’m not going to stop her.The realization settled over him with aterrifying gravity.I’m going to take anything I can, and damn the consequences.He would ruin her if she asked him to.
Lyman had tried to stay strictly within the limits he set for himself these past few years, and for a time he’d fooled himself into thinking he’d truly changed. But all it took was a few weeks of playful teasing and a gentle touch, and he abandoned all his pretensions to honor. No, even sooner than that. He’d begun to slip the moment Miss Danby met him at the café, when he’d suffered an instinctive wish to make himself sound better than he was. She’d made him laugh even while he was trying to warn her away. That was when the cracks began to appear in his mask.
So Lyman sat there, his hand upon hers, unable to break the point of contact between them. He sat there for another five minutes. His mind darted through a range of lurid possibilities, trying to find a reason not to give in.
There was no reason. None strong enough to subdue the rush of desire pumping in his blood. He no longer worried over what threat he posed to Miss Danby’s innocence, for it was clear by now that she had none. She wanted to seek out her pleasure in life? Well, he could provide her with several hours of pleasure, if he could only get her alone.
