Page 53 of Venus in Disguise

I wish you had confided in me a little about your circumstances, though I quite understand why you did not. It is hard to tell another what is in one’s heart when there are things it is difficult to admit, even to oneself. It sounds so much like ingratitude, does it not, to bemoan the state of one’s existence, when so many others have much harder lives?

Do tell me how your romance with Mr De Beauvoir came about. I would love to know about your shocking elopement. It sounds wonderfully exciting, though I can imagine at the time it was fraught with danger and uncertainty. How I admire you for having grasped fate with your own hands and taken such a terrifying chance. I do not know if I could ever be so very brave as you have been.

Please write and tell me the secret, Fidelia. How do you stop feeling so terribly afraid?

―Excerpt of a letter from the Hon’ble Miss Violetta Spencer (cousin and adopted daughter to The Right Hon’ble Kitty and Luke Baxter, Countess and Earl of Trevick) to The Lady Fidelia De Beauvoir.

15thMarch 1850, Berwick Street, Soho, London.

Narcissa waited for what seemed an interminable amount of time until Ash reappeared. Barnes had done his best to entertain her, and kept her supplied with tea and biscuits, but by the time her husband came back, she was a bag of nerves.

“I’ve had the housekeeper prepare your room, sir, my lady,” Barnes said, avoiding Narcissa’s eye, for which she was grateful, even as heat rose in her cheeks. “If you’d like to follow me.”

Narcissa grabbed Ash’s arm as he gestured for her to precede him out of the room. “What’s happening?” she demanded, having worked herself into a stew of anxiety over Fidelia. “Did you—”

“Yes, love. I know what happened. Hush now and I’ll tell you everything once we are private.”

Bursting with impatience, Narcissa held her tongue whilst Barnes showed them into a lovely, sunny room, the walls papered with a pretty design of lush yellow roses.

“This is Mr Weston’s sister’s room,” Barnes informed them with a proud smile. “She picked the wallpaper herself, and the furnishings. A lovely eye for colour, has Mrs Oak.”

“It’s beautiful, Barnes,” Narcissa said, for as desperate as she was to hear what Ash could tell her, she was grateful to discover her wedding night was not taking place in some dingy little back room as she had feared.

Barnes looked pleased by the comment but a fierce glance from Ash had him clearing his throat and hurrying out. “Yes, well, if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ring the—”

“We will, thank you, Barnes,” Ash said, closing the door in the fellow’s face.

“Oh, Ash, tell me!” Narcissa said, running to him and clutching at his coat.

“You’re wrinkling me,” he protested, though his lips quirked in a smile as he took her hands in his. “Come and sit down, then I shall tell all.”

Narcissa did her best to hold still as Ash removed her bonnet and pardessus, before he sat down in a chair by the newly lit fire. The room was rather chilly still, but the fire was cheerful, giving off a good amount of heat.

“Come, love,” he said, holding out a hand to her.

Narcissa blinked, realising he wanted her to sit on his lap. Awkwardly, she turned her back to him, trying to arrange the vast swathes of her skirts before she dared lower herself, but she felt his hands at her waist a bare second before she was tugged backwards.

Letting out a squeak of surprise, she tumbled into his embrace with a flurry of petticoats and was swiftly pulled into a searing kiss. His mouth was hot and urgent, devouring hers as his tongue swept in, his hands moving restlessly over her. By the time he let her up for air, she was entirely befuddled and out of breath.

“That’s better,” he muttered with a sigh. “So far, this day has not gone as it ought. I thought I should try to remedy things.”

Narcissa laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. “It has been rather odd. Oh, but Ash… I’m sorry, I must know. What did Mr Weston mean about Fidelia’s baby?”

Sighing, Ash resigned himself to the inevitable and Narcissa listened in stunned silence as Ash told her about the nephew she hadn’t known she had.

“All this time,” Narcissa said, her voice choked. “My poor sister has been breaking her heart all this time and I never… I never…”

“There now, love, it’s all right,” Ash said, holding her tight. “Your father kept you apart from her so you would never know, and he threatened her not to tell you. Neither of you are to blame for his wickedness. He’s made you both miserable, but you are free of him now. From everything Larkin said, it seems Fidelia and Hart are very much in love. They’re happy, Narcissa, and there’s nothing for you to be upset about. Even your brother seems settled, you see?”

Narcissa nodded, a tear sliding down her cheek all the same. “And what about us, Ash?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper as she dared to ask the question that had troubled her heart since the moment he told her they must be married. “Shall we be happy too?”

Ash held her gaze, and she looked into eyes of darkest blue, unlike any she had seen before.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “We shall be happy, and I intend to start on that now, this instant.”

He drew her close again, kissing her softly this time, tenderly, his large hand cradling her face as if she were something infinitely precious.

“Ash,” she whispered, as his mouth brushed over hers, one of a thousand tiny kisses as he built sensations that began as gentle warmth and turned quickly to something fierce and all-encompassing.