Authors: Michelle Woodward
He paused for a few minutes, which seemed to last for ages, and India thought she would completely lose her mind. She was awaiting a judgment, one she had never been strong enough to cast upon herself.
“It must have been incredibly difficult for your mother to live with such a weight upon her soul for so long” was all he said when finally he spoke.
India felt a low, loose hiss of relief exit her body. “You think my mother has a soul?” she asked him.
His bright blue eyes contained a great deal of shock. “Of course she has. Granted, leaving her daughter amidst such a scandal was less than honorable, but she waited eighteen long years to follow her heart's true desire. She was never untrue to your father, and she did not leave you in dire straits,” he said pragmatically.
How wonderful it felt to be validated this way. India had been loath to admit just how abandoned she had felt when her mother left her behind in London to deal with the scandal she left in her wake, but she had never been able to bring herself to hate her. She had been a fascinating creature, and she had done everything she could to make India the woman she was to this day. India threw her arms around the broad shoulders of Robert Cooper and hugged him tightly to her body in a way that had nothing to do with the nakedness of their bodies, but everything with the nudity of their hearts.
“Thank you, Robert,” she told him quietly, and felt him smile into the curls of her hair.
He stood and walked over to the telescope to try and isolate yet another celestial body. India lay back on the couch and studied his nude form bent over the instrument he adored so much, her heart beating hope against hope until she could contain a few thoughts no longer.
“What do you think your new life here at home will bring you, Robert?” she asked him.
At first she thought he had not heard her, but a few moments later, he spoke. “I have no interest in pursuing the tea business after what I saw happening in the states, obviously. I thought perhaps I could devote myself to the study of science and flesh out this idea I had about a tea press that might save lives and hours of labor, streamlining the East India Company's process.”
“That sounds wonderful. And what of the rest of your life?” She heard the wistful note in her voice and pushed it back.
He glanced up at the domed roof of the observatory, squinting to make something out. “I hardly think I am suited for anything domestic, truth be told. I have far too much wanderlust and restlessness in me to be content with such a situation for very long.”
How casually he said this, how quickly dashed her hopes! India tried to steel herself against the feeling of grief, but she could not. For it was what she had known about Robert Cooper from the first minute he laid his wolf-like eyes on her, what attracted her in the first place. Predators always hunt alone.
The carriage ride back was a lonely one, although her duke sent her off with a passionate kiss. She knew then that this night of passion would be much like her mother's—a glaring singularity in her life. She had not thought herself so traditional, so willing to abide by the standards and rules of the ton, but she knew she was done with scandal forever. Whatever she had been thrust into was not her fault, and she would not impose on herself a more marginalized existence. It was back to the drawing board, if only she could erase the memories of this night, although she was not entirely sure she wanted to.
As the night drew close about her, she realized it would be only the memories of the passion of this night that would hold her through the years unless she managed to find yet another lord or duke who could supersede it. The other future was too uncertain, too tenaciously planned to offer much consolation. India Augustina would continue her search, if only her mind and body could move on.
* * *
His name was Richard Luxloston and he was a lord.
India straightened the white lace veil around her and looked at herself with satisfaction in the mirror. If any one of the society matrons would have told her two months ago that she, India Augustina Davenport, would be marrying a lord, she would have shot one of her haughty looks directly into their faces and kept right on sashaying through their midst.
After her ill-fated affair with Robert Cooper, she had thrown herself into the social scene. It appeared that after coming-out soiree, all the lords had taken it upon themselves to have their mothers, aunts, and various assorted female relatives to issue her the most sought-after invitations in London. The calling cards came pouring in; it appeared no one on the London scene could quite believe the daughter of scandal could be such an aloof and accomplished lady. Lord and Lady Davenport had congratulated themselves on a successful display of their granddaughter and attributed nothing to the young lady herself; this did not matter, however, for India knew the truth.
She knew that every night, they dreamt of her.
And she, in turn, dreamt every night of a certain blue-eyed duke.
She could not help it. Every gentleman she spoke to looked at her appreciatively, it was certain, but she looked only for Robert in every face she saw. Certainly, he had attempted to contact her many times after their night together, but she had avoided him as surely as the plague. She felt blessed on many a level that he had not gone public with their affair, although she would have hardly pegged him as that manner of man to begin with. Eventually, the cards stopped coming and Robert Cooper himself had arrived at her doorstep, barreling past her butler and coming head to head with a much fiercer, if significantly shorter, ama.
“I wish to speak to the young Lady Davenport,” she heard him demand outside of her bedroom door.
“She does not wish to speak to you,” growled her ama, a note in her voice well-known to her charge. Duke Cooper, however, was unfamiliar with the warning signals of an Indian woman on the prowl, and decided to tread further on her ground.
“I do not care. She cannot simply vanish into thin air.”
“She has not vanished. She has vanished for you. Understand?”
Robert apparently did not understand, for she heard the sound of his knock on her door even as her light-footed ama scurried away. “India! India that is enough! If you wished to end our liaison, then you simply could have said so!”
And then he let out a yowl that had India suppress a hefty giggle. She heard her ama brandishing a broom and thwacking the illustrious duke straight over the head. “Vanish! You understand? You no-good, non-marrying, goodbye!”
He left, and then it was not quite so funny to India anymore.
She weaved through the crowds of lords and ladies like one in a dream. It seemed that everywhere she went, her heart would leap if she thought she saw him, and it never was. Until one day, quite unexpectedly, the apparition became a reality. It was at Lady Loxloston's manor that Robert Cooper appeared suddenly, and without saying a word, grasped India firmly by the elbow and dragged her off with such skill that he made it appear as if she was following him willingly.
When he finally got her alone on a remote balcony, she could feel the anger rolling off of him in great waves. He looked even finer than the last time she saw him, the small lines gathering at the corners of his eyes begging for her touch to smooth them out.
“Are you going to bloody well tell me why you have been dodging me for so long?” he snarled.
India felt trapped. It would be foolish to pretend as if that had not been exactly what she had been doing. “Robert, I cannot continue on with our dalliance,” she said to him, forthright, cutting through all the nonsense.
He looked as if the wind had been knocked out from him. “And why the devil not?”
“You will never make an honest woman of me,” she said simply.
“And is that what you truly want?” he asked her. “You want to be just like the other prim and proper ladies of the ton, carting me around like some prize bull at a show?”
She shook her head sadly. “Is that truly what you think of me, Robert? What exactly would you offer me in the stead of your hand in marriage?”
Robert stalked away from her and ran a hand through his cropped locks, making them stand on end. “A partnership for as long as we want each other.”
“A limited-time mistress?” India laughed, heart plummeting straight to the bottom of her stomach. “After all the scandal my name has been dragged through, with every mountain I have to scale being greater all for the truth of my parentage, do you truly think I could indulge in something like that?”
“But you want to,” he said quietly.
She took a step towards him and planted her palms on his chest. His hands closed on top of hers and she could smell the sadness on him as surely as if he had informed her of it. “I want you,” she said, hardly daring to look into his eyes. “But I want you to want me and only me for the rest of your life. I want to have it the right way, and if I cannot have it properly, I would rather have something different.”
“Even if that future does not include me?”
She finally looked up and there was no mistaking the pain in his eyes. “Although it breaks my heart, yes.”
And she fled.
She lost herself in the crowd until it was impossible for Robert to find her. She smiled her delicate smiles, forgetting to add the haughty undertones and overtones to her social graces. It was precisely in this state of heartbreak and desperation that Richard Loxloston came upon her.
“Penny for your thoughts,” said a voice in front of her as she knelt to the ground to retrieve a fallen glove.
She looked up at a man who stood easily over six feet tall and had a pair of smoldering brown eyes and a set of dimples that was so deep she was sure they would swallow each one of her digits whole. “A lady never reveals her thoughts for fear of scaring a gentleman with their alacrity and perception,” she teased, managing to find a hint of humor beneath her despair.
The man before her smiled and his brown eyes seemed to light up from within. “I admire a lady with great wit, so you have nothing to fear. Although I detect a hint of something that is not all well in your world, Lady Davenport,” he said, bowing down to plant a kiss on her hand. India felt momentarily thrown off-balance, for it appeared this man knew something about her whereas she did not even know his name.
“You know me?”
“When one spots the loveliest woman in the room, one immediately has to find out her name and marital status,” he answered, and a warm wash of comfort came over her. He was flirting with her.
“And what does the lady have to do to find out the name of the most bold man in the room when he seeks her out?” she queried.
He laughed. “The lady needs only to ask. And one Lord Richard Loxloston will answer her ever wish.”
She glanced up at him, noting the broad shoulders and the slim build of his hips. He was English, certainly, but seemed to be in possession of a wry wit that was not common to most of the other gentlemen she had met in these circles. “And what if I wish for something such a gentleman cannot deliver?”
“The gentleman conjures a jinn and makes him dance for his freedom.”
It was India's turn to laugh, and she did so heartily. Still shaky from her encounter with Robert, she allowed her newfound acquaintance to lead her for a spin around the dance floor. They chatted late into the evening, capturing the attention of all the society matrons, who rapidly became sure that India Augustina Davenport had managed to snag the son of one of the most prominent members of a tea trading company that had up until that night been a most eligible bachelor for their own unwed daughters.
What followed in the next month and a half was a series of the most conventionally acceptable encounters with the lord. He sent her his calling card for an invitation for a carriage ride through Landsley Park. He had a delightful sense of humor that kept her pleasantly amused through several hours. He was handsome, manly, and the invitations kept coming. The more she saw him, the more comfortable she grew. When finally he kissed her, it was pleasantly warm. Perhaps she would never have the same kind of mind-numbing passion she had experienced with Robert Cooper, but she could finally envision a future in which she could teach her husband to bring her to a satisfactory conclusion. Gradually, India's hopes rose that she had found a second man who would be able to look upon her and not be so entranced by her mixed blood that he could not treat her like the lady she was. She came to understand how rattled she had been by Robert Cooper's swift acceptance of her differences, how quickly she had tied her emotions to him. One of the best things about her newfound suitor was that she was able to keep an appropriate emotional distance from him while allowing herself to delight in his company.