Wedding Violet (Fair Cyprians of London 4)

Unabashed by the sheer horror in Violet’s tone, Miss Thistlethwaite put a sympathetic hand on Violet’s arm. “There’ll be no shame in Max marrying as soon as he wishes, and I shall do all I can to facilitate it. You and Max can reply upon it. I’ve an independent fortune, you know, and if I want to spend it on a wedding trousseau for the bride of my favourite nephew, that’s my decision to make.”

Chapter 4

Max tried to focus through the haze of blue-tinged pipe smoke that blanketed the tavern. Loud, coarse voices and the chink of glass and pewter on countertop and table further dulled his senses. He’d had only a couple of brandies, but surely his eyes were deceiving him for it couldn’t be possible that the young woman who’d just slipped into the booth opposite him was Miss Lilywhite.

Touting for business? That wasn’t the way she operated, and surely not the way Madame Chambon’s operated?

Not that he wasn’t pleased. Thoroughly delighted was more apt, perhaps. His groin ached with want at the very sight of her, and he had to remind himself of his pledge to swear off loose women. Forever. Respectable, willing women were a different matter, and he’d availed himself of a number of those over the years at opportune times. Last night, however, was the first time he’d paid for the services of a prostitute, and he didn’t intend doing so again.

“Miss Lilywhite, what a surprise,” he said, beckoning to the barmaid, for the least he could do was offer her a drink. “How did you manage to hunt me down here?”

Max cast his very interested gaze the length of what he could see. Miss Lilywhite was dressed more like one of these new office workers in her dark-blue woollen skirt and white blouse with its demure collar and cuffs, her rich brown hair simply coiffured with one ringlet falling over her shoulder from beneath her pert blue hat. Nothing like the siren he remembered. Although a woman in a place like this was unusual, no one would give either of them a second glance and yet, last night, writhing in a pool of lust and sweat as he’d exorcised himself of the need for sexual release, she’d been the siren of his dreams. Exquisite face. Soft, white, voluptuous body. Inventive repertoire.

He smiled his admiration. “I must say, I simply would not have recognised you.”

“I hardly imagine you would have. A woman like me needs to know how to dress and behave if she’s to get on in life. As to hunting you down, I’ve shown no more ingenuity there than your aunt with whom I’ve just dined at Claridge’s. I paid a boy a few coins to tell me where to find you.”

“Good God! My aunt surely didn’t find you at—”

“Don’t worry; she doesn’t know where I live, and she doesn’t know what I am. Tea was very pleasant, and her blissful ignorance remains intact.” Miss Lilywhite smiled serenely at his horror. “However, I did feel it important to let you know that she is labouring under the misconception that you are madly in love with me and wish to marry me. Apparently, it is her greatest wish that she facilitates this, despite the fact I am clearly only a…”

Max waited, and saw she was enjoying drawing out the suspense of what his aunt actually believed Miss Lilywhite to be. “A poor shop girl fa

llen on hard times with a respectable enough family. I think your grandfather’s expected opposition might have fuelled her enthusiasm.”

“I’m impressed at your perception, Miss Lilywhite—and for taking the trouble to inform me.” He felt at a bit of a loss here and was glad of the interruption of the waitress who’d just set down another brandy for Max and a cider for his companion.

“Naturally, I have no expectations of becoming your bride, Lord Belvedere, or even further association with you,” she said smoothly, her smile indicating her amusement at his momentary loss of composure. “Your aunt is a charming woman; I liked her immensely! And she has only your best interests at heart. I’d certainly not see her disappointed, so I merely thought it best to let you know that whatever you’ve inadvertently said to give her such a false impression should be rectified.” Her smile broadened as she raised her glass. “I’m curious, though. How did my name come up in conversation between you and your aunt?”

Max grinned. “Not through anything pertaining to the truth, I can tell you that much. No, I was trying to deflect her from finding me an alternative bride by pulling up the first name that came to mind, and telling her I’d been madly in love with this woman but realised the impossibility of a union which is why I’m off to Africa in three weeks.”

“I do hope you’ll make a return visit to Madame Chambon’s establishment before you go.”

Max felt truly regretful as he shook his head. “I’ve sworn off” He stopped himself in time, but she took no offence, merely threw back her head so that her lovely, swanlike neck was more in evidence and laughed. The image was such a modest and charming re-creation of last night’s spectacular sexual gymnastics that he felt himself heating from head to toe all over again.

“You’ve sworn off immoral women like me, have you? Well, that’s a different discussion.” Miss Lilywhite didn’t seem the slightest bit put out by his less than gentlemanly insinuation as to the type of woman he considered her. “But what do you intend telling your aunt in order to rectify this problem? I don’t want her landing on Madame Chambon’s doorstep and being exposed to loose, immoral women. It would be distressing to her, to you, and to me.” She put her head on one side, and in that moment, Max thought her the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. Her skin was like alabaster. He’d thought it last night as he’d run his hands over its nakedness, and he thought it now in the coarsest of daytime situations. Her eyes were like two glittering sapphires. What he admired as much, though, was her vivacity and her lovely humour. Not to mention her compassion. Anyone who showed such consideration towards his beloved aunt was a thoroughly good person.

Thoughtfully, he ran his fingers across his lower lip, not realising for a few seconds that he was yet again reliving last night when she’d done the same to him. And how much he’d liked it!

“You’re a good actress, you say, Miss Lilywhite? Were you acting last night?”

“What?”

“Acting? When you were in bed with me? Surely you haven’t forgotten already?”

To his amusement, she blushed. Sudden and fiery as she glanced at the noisy table beside them rather than meet his eye, though she didn’t seem embarrassed when she returned her gaze to his face.

“Last night is not what is under discussion; however, in the interests of telling the truth, which I like to do whenever it is at all possible—since, so often, it is not—I thought you the most exciting and desirable of any gentleman who has ever crossed my threshold, and I’m deeply regretful that this is the last time we shall meet. Now, what is under discussion is what you wish me to say in order to cause the least distress possible to a charming old lady who is clearly very innocent, unworldly, and wants only the best for her favourite nephew.” She clasped her gloved hands upon the table and smiled at Max, who was feeling unaccountably churned up by her earlier revelation so that he was barely attending when she added, slowly, as if he were a simpleton, “What do you want me to say to Miss Thistlethwaite if she contacts me again?” Then, even more slowly as he still hadn’t found the right response, “Please attend to me, Lord Belvedere. I shan’t see you again and I promise not to follow you, so now is your only opportunity to ensure I do my part to curb your aunt’s wild flight of fancy. We need to ensure our stories align.”

Max blinked. Her words had had a very odd effect on him, as if he were opening himself up to a world of impoverishment if he didn’t see her at least one more time. She really was quite captivating.

“You’re very impatient for an answer, Miss Lilywhite, considering this has all come as rather a shock, and fellows like me are not known for making their greatest romantic gestures under stress.”

She sat back and took another sip of cider. “I’d hardly put this in that category, but I’ll wait. I’m in no hurry to get back to Madame Chambon’s. It’s a rare afternoon off so I’m rather enjoying it with preferred company.” Her lips turned up in that delightful, half-amused way that made his insides tingle with want. But he couldn’t be rash about this. Of course he couldn’t. He was off to Africa to fulfill his greatest desire now that he’d at last been granted his freedom.

“You might not put this in the category of a great romantic gesture, but I do. Aunt Euphemia’s heart beats as passionately as it ever did, and I’d not be the one to disappoint her.”

“So, you want me to cry off? To tell her I have no wish to marry you? That would end it cleanly, I suppose.”