Lucien caught her eye as he bowed to kiss her lips. So it does.
Ianthe paused, brushing her fingertips against his cheek. I heard that.
Lucien merely smiled. Rolling onto his side, his cock slid from her damp body as he tucked her against his hip. His large hand splayed over her midriff, tracing the faint silvery lines that speared out like a corona from her navel. "It makes sense now, why you could never allow yourself pleasure before."
Ianthe curled into him. "It's not the same for a woman as it is for a man. It doesn't always happen for me."
"Especially when your daughter is missing."
"Especially then," she whispered. "That time on the piano... I felt so guilty. How could I possibly enjoy myself when she was out there alone? But I needed you so badly then, for I was so close to breaking."
They stared at each other, perfectly in tune with each other.
Ianthe swallowed. Intimacy still unnerved her a little. "When do you wish to get married?"
"Not yet. There are other considerations right now. Morgana is a threat, and she dared put her hands on Louisa once to get at you. I fear she will do it again." Hard lines bracketed Lucien's mouth; this was a man who would not be crossed. "I intend to make certain Louisa is never harmed again, even if I have to destroy that bitch myself."
"How do we find her?" Ianthe's voice was small in the dark. This was her fault, because she had not trusted Lucien to help her with Louisa.
"We begin here," Lucien replied, spreading her hair out across their pillow and stroking his hands through it. A casual gesture, but one not lost on her. It was intimate, this moment between them.
"Here?" He was distracting her. She couldn't quite fathom why they should start here.
"Someone left the letters on your bed," Lucien said. "Someone inside this house knows where Morgana is. We simply have to find out who."
A chill ran through her. She'd never thought to look for the traitor on the inside, because when she had no allies, she'd had no power. She had not dared, because one small misstep could have cost her Louisa. That was not the case now.
"But in the morning, Ianthe. In the morning. We both need sleep, or we're more likely to trip over Morgana's wards and hand her our lives on a platter. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. Some insatiable wench keeps demanding that I tup her."
"Wench," she objected, pinching him lightly.
Lucien laughed. And as she curled into the arc of his arms, she couldn't help thinking that, for the first time, his smile looked genuine.
Chapter Twenty-Five
'Expression is dangerous because it is tied to emotion, and what is emotion, but a weakness?'
* * *
– Morgana de Wynter
* * *
The butler knew nothing, nor the downstairs maid. Ianthe paced in front of the fireplace, her nerves a mess, as Lucien questioned the florid cook. He glanced up from his last question and shook his head ever so slightly at her, over the head of the weeping Mrs. Mayhue. With his newfound abilities, he was finding it easier to see who was lying and who was not. Now they had three people on their list that knew nothing about the letters and blackmail.
That left Mrs. Hastings and Thea.
A horrible, yawning pit began to gnaw inside Ianthe's stomach as Lucien saw Mrs. Mayhue out. Not Thea. Please, not Thea. But who in her household would be vulnerable to outside influence or deception? A young girl newly apprenticed to the mistress of the household, with her own dark past? Or the extremely efficient housekeeper who ran the place like a tight ship?
"Come in," Lucien directed, and Thea walked hesitantly into the light, her face pale and her eyes huge in her young face. A young girl, trying so hard to be an adult. Trying so hard not to—
Thea took one look at Ianthe, and then her face screwed up and she burst into tears.
"Oh, hell," Ianthe muttered, and drew the poor girl into her arms. "You little fool. You should have come to me."
Hypocrisy at its worst, for had she herself not been in this very situation? It was difficult to find yourself alone in the world, not knowing who to trust or where to turn to. She could never blame Thea for what she'd done. No, her anger was aimed at Morgana, that manipulative, vicious bitch who knew just how to alienate her victims.
I am going to wipe that smug little smile right off Morgana's face. With my fist.
