He closed his eyes briefly. Opened them again.
“Did he... ever try to touch you?” His voice was a painful shred.
“No. Your father has fine manners, indeed, Lucien.” She said this bitterly. “Quite reminiscent of your own.”
And then her heart stopped.
Suddenly, just like that, with that question, she understood.
So she found the courage to ask the question she should have asked straightaway.
“Lucien... how... how did you know about the... little gatherings? Lucien, how did you know about Derring at all?”
And this was when he came forward. Closed the distance between them. Reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers and held her fast.
It was only then she realized how very cold she’d gone. His hand was so warm. It felt like safety and the thing that anchored her to the earth and sent her sailing like a kite.
Why, then, did the drumming of her heart make her sick with terror? He was taking so long to choose his words and she knew somehow they’d be devastating.
“Angelique. I was just at White’s, speaking with Lord Hallworth.”
Hallworth.
She recognized the name. And there was only one reason she would have heard of a man like that. And then she remembered precisely why.
Lucien delivered his words carefully, as if each was etched in thorns, as if speaking hurt so much their very delivery was an act of courage. “Lord Hallworth informed me that the Earl of Derring’s former doxie, a woman by the name of Angelique Breedlove, was running a boarding house on the Thames. He said that he once tried to slip his fingers into your bodice and you slapped him so hard his ears rang for days.”
Her mind went blank with shock and icy fear stole all sensation from her limbs.
And then through her fear a flame of fury shot through.
Because she began to understand.
“Oh God, Lucien. What did you do?” she whispered hoarsely.
He took a breath. “I pinned him against the wall. His own cravat was useful in that regard,” he said with bitter irony at his own expense. “I told him that if heever...” Now his own white-hot fury leaked through. He closed his eyes briefly, and took another breath. “If he ever spoke of you in that context again, or said your name aloud, it would be the last time he spoke to anyone.”
She yanked her hand away from him.
“Were you alone? Did anyone hear?” Her words rushed out, trembling and furious.
He pressed his lips together. Closed his eyes briefly. He said nothing.
Which was all the answer she needed.
She covered her eyes with her hands. Her lungs labored to breathe. “Lucien... how could you... howdareyou... don’t you know what you’vedone?”
But of course he knew what would likely happen next. This was why they were here right now, having this conversation. He was here to warn her. And perhaps seek absolution.
“Angelique. Please believe me. I could not bear it. I could not bear the story. I could not bear the sound of your name in his mouth. It is not for him to say your name,ever. It is not for him to tell your stories, your hurts, your past to anyone as entertainment. I could not bear the notion of you being hurt again. It is not for him to be allowed to sully your name like that. It will. Not. Stand.”
She was horrified.
“You didn’t do it for me, Lucien! You did it foryourself! To assuageyourtemper and your pride. How could you be so reckless? How could you be so wretchedly, wretchedlythoughtless?”
His words were colder now. “There have been very few moments since we met, Angelique, that I do not think of you. And I think you know it. And I daresay you would say the same thing about me.”
“But... how could you... Lucien... I amashamedof it, don’t you see?” Her voice rose in frantic fury, then crested and cracked. “It’s a hideous sort of shame. How my mother would have died to know what had become of me. And thanks to you, Hallworth is unlikely toeverforget me, or who I was, or where I am. I felt safe here. I made a new life for myself at last, and you haveruinedit. You may have ruined everyone here! Who would rent a room from a doxie, Lucien?”