Page 25 of Eight for Losing, One for Loving

Chapter 7

Dear Cara,

I have done the most ridiculous thing…

―Excerpt of a letter from the Hon’ble Miss Violetta Spencer (cousin and adopted sister to Lady Aisling, Lady Cara and Conor Baxter – Viscount Harleston) to The Right Hon’ble Cara De Vere, Viscountess Latimer.

24th June 1850, The Queen’s Head, Wrestlingworth, the Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire border.

I have done the most ridiculous thing, and yet I don’t regret it. Not in the least. How shocked you will be when you hear, assuming I am ever brave enough to reveal all. There is a good chance I will take it all to my grave…

Vi considered that as she mentally began a letter to her sister, one she would write tomorrow if she got the chance.

My lonely grave,she corrected morosely, though she knew she would not write such a maudlin sentiment in black and white. Foolish beyond permission, she scolded herself, shaking her head. Outside the curtains she could hear the servants coming in and out, the slosh of the water as they filled the bath. Though she had deeply regretted the interruption to their kiss, she was relieved, too. It seemed as if she might have persuaded Leo to take her to bed, and that being the case, she could not bear to be anything less than clean and sweet smelling for him. Like a bride on her wedding night, she thought wistfully, before scolding herself all over again.

She would never be his bride. That way lay a lifetime of worry and stress and dispute between them. For if she curbed his wild behaviour, he would grow to resent her for it, and she would hate that. If she did not curb it, then she would be sat upon thorns for the rest of her life, waiting to hear the news that he had been killed during some ridiculous race or wager. She remembered hearing via her brother that Leo had once leapt from a cliff over seventy feet high into the sea, just for a lark. Even thinking about it now, years and years later and knowing he was perfectly safe and well, made her feel both sick and so furious with him she could wring his blasted neck.

Don’t think about it,she told herself sternly. It was a familiar refrain. Don’t think about it, or don’t think about him, words she had repeated to herself more times than she cared to remember over the past years.

She heard the door close, and then the bed curtain was pulled open. Leo smiled at her.

“Your bath is all ready, Vi. There’s even soap,” he said. His gaze fell to her mouth, and he cleared his throat, looking hurriedly away. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then and—”

“No.”

Vi’s heart was thudding very hard as he turned back to her, an arrested expression in his eyes.

“No?” he repeated.

She shook her head. “If… If we’re going to… well, it’s silly, isn’t it? For you to go, and I should feel happier bathing in a strange place, with… with you here,” she said firmly.

“You would?”

Vi nodded. “You hear terrible stories about people being walked in on or getting robbed when in their baths in places like this, or—”

“You want me to stay?” he repeated, apparently not interested in all the reasons it was a good idea he stay past that she wanted him to.

Vi nodded again, deciding it might be safer to keep her mouth shut. Less chance of vexing him that way.

“Very well,” he said. “I’ll sit on the bed and close the curtains.”

“Oh,” Vi said with a sigh, for having him watch her bathe was something she had been uncertain she was brave enough to endure. “Yes, please.”

His lips quirked at her obvious relief. “Don’t worry, love. I won’t peek. You’re quite safe.”

“Well, there’s no need to sound so certain about it,” she said, suddenly indignant, which was unfair and ridiculous, but there it was. Did he not wish to peek?

Leo gave her a sharp look of interest and then came forward, taking her hands and drawing her off the bed and to her feet. “I shall be listening to every sound you make, imagining the scene beyond the curtains, and driving myself wild with frustration and the desire to peek, but I am a gentleman, so I shall not do so.” He reached for a loose curl, tucking it behind her ear. “Does that help?”

“It does rather,” Vi admitted ruefully. “You must think me terribly foolish.”

Leo shook his head. “No. I think you woefully out of touch with reality. How can you be so accomplished, and so sensible, and not know that any man would give his right arm to be where I am? How can you not know how lovely you are, how special? You are beautiful, and intelligent, and very, very alluring. Don’t you forget that.”

Vi gazed up at him, searching his eyes and finding nothing but sincerity there. He really meant it.

“Yes, I really mean it,” he said, his lips quirking as he correctly interpreted her intent gaze. “Do you really think every word I say is nonsense? It’s not very flattering, love.”

“Of course I don’t,” she said at once. “It’s just… some things are far harder to believe than others. I… I saw your mistress once, you see, and she was so very lovely and it’s hard to believe—”