Maybe if he married Miss Bowman, he would free Velvet to pursue her dream of a family of her own. He could give Velvet a competence, not so much that it would raise suspicions, but enough that she could live in whatever way would make her happy.
He unbuttoned his waistcoat. The door cracked. Hope surged in his breast.
“Would you help me with my buttons?” said Velvet in a small voice. Her cheeks were stained red and her eyes were on the floor. “I cannot reach.”
Obviously, the last thing she was attempting was seduction. He stood and crossed to the door. She presented her back to him. Lilith’s clothes were designed for a woman who used a maid to dress and undress. And since the dressmaker had tightened the bodice to fit Velvet’s narrower frame, she could not shift it to where she could reach the buttons, although undoubtedly she’d tried. Three tiny buttons in the center of her back remained buttoned, while the rest were open. While he wanted to undress her and show her how much he wanted her, he had to restrain his impulses.
He reached to unfasten her gown. Her proximity was torture. But for his cursed seed, he could pull her into his arms, promise to marry her, and make love to her until dawn. Instead he steeled himself for what he had to do. “Tomorrow I will arrange for the carriage to take you and Iris to Bath. I will give you funds to book lodgings.”
She spun to face him. Her jaw had dropped and her eyebrows were raised, showing her surprise. “Iris?”
He turned her back around to finish. “Yes, you have made it clear you do not wish to continue with me, but I hope you will remain Iris’s governess. I will of course release your full wages if you do not. Or since you would have the responsibility of maintaining a household and hiring servants, I will increase your wages accordingly.”
Her head dipped forward. The curve of her neck begged for kisses. Rather than caress her and reach for the laces on her corset, he curled his fingers until he had enough control to continue.
After releasing the last button, he pushed open the gown’s back. She twisted away from him and reached for the door. “Thank you.”
“Could you both be ready with the school supplies by the day after tomorrow?”
Holding the loosened dress to her chest, she said, “Shouldn’t we wait until after your guests leave?”
“You have done a marvelous job of preparing the household. The meals have been better than I ever expected, but I cannot think you are safe here. Not after someone destroyed your things.” Didn’t she understand she wasn’t safe from him either? He couldn’t have her so near and not desire her.
“I think I thwarted someone’s plan to do some mischief with Iris. I see no reason to go to Bath now.”
Lucian rubbed his aching forehead. If he had to propose to Miss Bowman, he didn’t want Velvet here. He’d tried to marry for love once, and it had been a dismal failure. Perhaps if he married for business . . . “Velvet, you have to leave my house. A man can only take so much.” He revealed far more than he meant to in that statement.
Her eyes narrowed and she searched his face.
He tried to retrieve the situation. “I have buried far too many of those I care about. Do not ask me to risk it again.”
“Are you talking about children or women?” she asked on a low note.
“Both.” If he only cared about his businesses, he would never again risk the wrenching pain of losing a loved one. If he just accepted he would never have family in any traditional sense, his heart wouldn’t be shredding to tiny bits in his chest.
He could swim in the cold ocean and destroy the physical needs of his body, but the swims never helped him understand why God had decided to deprive him of loving parents, a wife, a mistress, and children.
Business associates he understood. They didn’t love him or hate him, and they only stayed connected to him because they had something to gain.
“Perhaps you should take an assumed name in Bath. You could start over as a respectable woman with a new name and improvised history.” Perhaps there was a chance she could meet a man and marry and have the family she wanted.
The idea of her in another man’s arms burned in his stomach as if he had drunk poison.
Her face changed to a scowl and she stepped back. “I will not go to live in Bath. Not now, not ever.”
She shut the door. He wanted to beg her to protect herself, but she wouldn’t allow him to protect her. He knew if she didn’t leave, he would end up destroying her too.
The days passed uneventfully. Lucian escorted Miss Bowman to dinner and tried not to notice Velvet. His nights were spent tossing and turning, knowing she was just beyond a single door. But to open the door was to lose to temptation.
His mind was mildly relieved by the dressmaker’s presence. If she found his instructions to remain in Velvet’s and Iris’s presence at all times strange, she didn’t say so.
All too often Miss Bowman hovered at his elbow. Even his office was no longer a sanctuary. As the mid-morning sun streamed across his desk, she wandered in from the library with an open book in her hands.
“I understand you bathe in the ocean every morning,” she said.
His gaze flicked over her. “Most mornings.”
He returned to writing out bank drafts to settle accounts for several of his businesses. He’d hoped to get some necessary work done before the rest of his guests descended.
“How does one get down to the shore? There seem to be nothing but cliffs around here.” Miss Bowman smiled most pleasantly while closing the book without marking her spot.
“There is a path with steps.”
“Would you show me? It seems to be a particularly fine day.” She dropped the book on his desk.
“Perhaps you should ask your parents permi—”
“Oh pish, they shall not object if we take a stroll. We will be outside, what could happen?”
“Anything that could happen inside could happen outside, Miss Bowman.” He knew.
She tossed her head, making the sausage curls framing her face shake. Her eyes sparkled. “I don’t know if that is a threat or a promise.”
He wanted to say a threat and tell her to go away. Instead he stoppered his ink, wiped the nub of his pen, and then stood. “Perhaps you should fetch a wrap.”
She skipped into the library and pulled a shawl and bonnet from a table.
“I see you’ve come prepared,” he said dryly.
If he were to marry her, he should spend time with her. He opened the door and then led her through the gallery and out the side door. The wind whipped her skirts as she giggled. She seemed a pleasant girl, but her girlish laugh reminded him she was only a few years older than Iris.
“Do you like to read, Miss Bowman?”
“Only if there is nothing else to do. Although I do like the ladies’ magazines.”
He extended his arm and put her on his scarred side. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the red marks. If she were to marry him, she’d have to get used to it. Perhaps in time she could look at him the way Velvet did, as if she saw him, not just the scar.
Miss Bowman chatted about the weather and the breeze, and he contented himself with letting her ramble on about nothing.
When she ran out of breath, he asked, “Do you like it here, or do you prefer London?”
“Doesn’t everyone prefer London?” she asked without guile.
“No, not everyone.”
Her eyes narrowed speculatively for just a second. She tilted her head and said, “London is amusing, but it is always nice to get away during the summer. I imagine it is quite lovely here in the summer months.”
Clearly, she expected to spend the social season in London. Her skirts brushed his legs as they walked across the dead grass.
He wondered if he would be content with a wife living in London. He could go to town more often, every couple of weeks, but he wouldn’t live there. Although there would be less chance of impregnating her.
“Do you like children, Miss Bowman?”
Her mouth pursed and then she turned away. “I like them well enough. I have a lot of siblings still in the nursery.”
She couldn’t know that her distaste was more of a blessing to him. Except he only felt hollow as he contemplated a life that was not so different from what he lived now.
As they neared the steps in the cliff, he searched the grass where he and Velvet had experienced their encounter. His breath caught and his pulse raced. The spot bore no evidence of a tryst, but how he looked at it had changed.
“Is that where your wife fell?” asked Miss Bowman.
Lucian jerked his attention back to her as cold slithered down his spine. “No.”
Her gaze was speculative, and she dipped her head. “Was she the one who clawed your face?”
“I should rather not discuss it,” said Lucian.
“My papa spoke with you, did he not?” She cast a look at him under her eyelashes.
“He did.” Lucian wondered if the rocky beach below was the sort of romantic spot where he should propose. “Here are the steps to the beach.”
They began the descent. Instead of his usual quick pace, he restrained himself to assist Miss Bowman down the uneven path.
“Papa says you are one of the most astute businessmen he knows. He says you are building an empire.”
Lucian stared out at the slate blue sea. He didn’t know that he was so astute or that he just had little else to occupy his time. While on the verge of expanding his shipping enterprise, the accomplishment felt hollow. He wasn’t even all that fond of spending the money he earned now. “Surely you don’t wish to speak of business.”
“You are a very hard man to get to know, but I shan’t be deterred. I feel it would be in my best interest to understand everything I can about you. I am a very practical sort of woman.”
He barely restrained a snort. She was a cold woman inspired to passion only by money. He said what he assumed she wanted to hear. “My wife and I fought over her indiscretions. She was prone to fits of rage and she did claw my face, but I did not kill her. If that is what you wish to know, Miss Bowman.” He gave a slight bow. “I should prefer never to speak of it again.”
“Mama said she deserved what she got.”
Shocked, he yanked away from Miss Bowman’s grip. “No one deserves what she got.”
“Oh, I am sorry. That was thoughtless of me.” She pressed her lips together and her eyebrows flattened.
Her expression reminded him more of anger than contrition. Cold and grasping were definitely the right attributions for her.
“I should very much like my daughter’s memories not to be tainted by events surrounding her mother’s death.” No matter how many words he used, he could never explain the complicated emotions he had about his marriage. “I once loved my wife very much.”
Miss Bowman blinked and seemed confused by his declaration. She took a few steps on the beach. “You bathe here?”
“Yes.”
“If I might inquire, what does one wear when bathing?”
“A bathing suit, Miss Bowman.”
“Oh, then might I watch you some morning? The water seems so very violent.”
“It calms me,” said Lucian.
She turned and came to stand in front of him. Turning her face up to his, he noted the tightness around her eyes. “You might kiss me if you like, Mr. Pendar.”
She pursed her lips and lowered her lashes.
Strangely reluctant to take her offer, he asked, “Have you kissed many men, Miss Bowman?”
Her jaw dropped. “Of course not.”
“So your desire to live in London is not to conduct extramarital affairs?”
Her mouth still open, she shook her head. The horror in her expression would have been hard to fake. “You do not wish to live in London? Everything is there, Parliament, banks, newspapers, playhouses, operas, and the shops. Everyone who is anyone is there for the season.”
“This is my home.” He put his arms behind his back. He was mildly relieved that she apparently had every expectation he would live with her. Lilith had begged to have her own residence in London. “I admit it needs refurbishing and more modernizing, but I have no inclination to spend time on such things.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Those are things a wife should see to.”
Was spending his money the only thing that excited her? Would she find any pleasure in a kiss or did she only see it as means to tempt him? He stepped closer and lifted her chin. Her lips were dry and tightly pursed.
Reluctantly he pressed his lips to hers. He felt nothing more than a mild male willingness to mate with anything in a skirt. She was young and pretty, and he should have felt more attraction.
“Do you mean to ask me something, Mr. Pendar? I believe we have come to an understanding, have we not?”
He should propose, but instead he said, “You are very young, Miss Bowman, and you have only spent a week in my company.”
“I have known of you nearly all my life,” she sputtered. “I would not have allowed you such liberties if I did not think . . . that you . . . oh bother.”
“No one will doubt that you remain chaste, Miss Bowman,” he told her. Looking at her lips, he had the distinct impression it wouldn’t be worth the trouble of teaching her to kiss correctly.
“What?” she asked. “Have I done something wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”
He shook his head.
She pressed the back of her hand to her lips. “I hope you are not d-disappointed.”
He turned to look at the sea. Even now his thoughts had turned to Velvet. He had disappointed her, but he was certainly not. Their encounter had been awful, it was no wonder she had no desire to repeat it. But she made his blood heat, and for a brief moment he’d tasted her passion.
“I am a social pariah. I do not know if you have considered how that will hamper your hopes to mix in society.”
“Money buys entry into almost every level of polite company,” she insisted.
“Then perhaps you should allow me to escort you to the opera in London. If it is not my scar terrifying people, it is the rumors swirling around my wife’s death.”
“You sound like my father.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. She folded her arms across her chest. “He says if another female of your household or close acquaintance meets a bad end, you will be hanged.”
Even though the sun shone, a dark pall cast a shadow over his world. “I think, Miss Bowman, we should get you back to the house before you are missed.”