There was no going back in life.
Her life had been so unchanging before that she had never realized thesimple truth, though she had read it in Lucretius. “Whenever a thingchanges and quits its proper limits, this change is at once the death ofthat which was before.”
Quietly in the spring garden, Beth mourned her previous life.
Chapter Eight
contents -previous |next
Once in town the marquess lost little time in going to Blanche’s house.She threw herself into his arms. “Lucien, love!”
He buried his head in her sweet-smelling hair and sighed. “You know whyI have come?”
She pulled back and smiled sadly at him. “It’s goodbye? I saw thenotice of your engagement. Is she worthy of you, love?”
He let her go and said fiercely, “What do you mean by that?”
Blanche went as white as her softly draped gown. “I’m sorry, Lucien. Ididn’t mean it badly. If you have chosen a bride from nowhere you mustlove her, and that’s all that matters.”
He ran a hand through his curls. “We shouldn’t even be discussingit.”
“Well then,” said Blanche lightly, though she was still pale, “let meorder tea, and I can tell you all the scandal.”
He sat across from her and let her chatter.
Blanche hoped he could not tell how hard it was for her. She hadprepared to receive hercongeever since she had seen the notice, but she had not beenprepared for the shadow in his eyes. What had happened? It clearly was nota love match he was entering, but more than that she could not guess. Sheached for him.
When she interrupted her light account of the latest crimcon to refillhis cup, he asked abruptly, “How can a man tell if a woman is virtuous,Blanche?”
She looked up, puzzled. “Do you mean, if she’s a virgin?”
“No. Just the tenor of her mind.”
Blanche shrugged. “I could ask, why should a man care? He could see howeasily she was shocked, I suppose.”
He laughed without humor, put down his cup, and pulled her up and awayfrom the table. “And are you easily shocked, my winter rose?”
She knew she had colored, which didn’t happen often these days. “Ithink you’ve shocked me now, Lucien. You said this was goodbye. You’re asgood as married.”
He drew down both the loose sleeves of her gown until her breasts werebare, then gently cupped them in his hands and pushed them up. “That’s noimpediment to making love to the most beautiful woman in London.” Helowered his head to kiss the swell of each.
Blanche was already halfway to passion just from simple memory. “Yousaid ‘in England’ the last time,” she teased softly.
He looked up and smiled, and it was his old smile. “Did I?” He swepther into his arms and headed for the stairs. “Well, that diminution ofyour sphere must be my tribute to the obligations of matrimony,ma, belle”He stopped to pay tribute to each sensitive nipple.“We are in London, aren’t we?”
Blanche arched and clutched him. “That or heaven, dear one.”
As he laid her on the bed, he held back her hair and let it drift downlast to lie all around her like a silvery pillow. “That’s all right then,”he whispered and lowered his head to kiss her.
Later, he leaned over her and pushed her damp hair off her face. Gentlyhe said, “It is still goodbye, my lovely one.”
Blanche stroked his smoothly muscled shoulder. “I know it, love. You’renot a man to keep a mistress when newly wed. I hope you never keep oneagain. I’ll miss you, though.”
He smiled. “That’s soothing to my ego. If you want, you’ll have thepick of London to replace me.”
“Ah, but there’s not many with your beauty,” she said honestly and witha cheeky twinkle. “I like to just look at you, you know. Care to come backand pose a few times?”
He laughed and sprang out of bed to strike a noble pose.
