The Secrets of a Courtesan (10 page)

“Rowarth,” she said again, and she could hear the unsteady note in her voice and cursed herself

for it. “How many dukes do you know who married their mistresses?”

He was actually counting. She could see it. “Three,” he said, at last. “Dunston, Glenroth and

Shefford. The Duchess of Shefford called herself an actress but we all knew—”

“Rowarth!”

“I beg your pardon.” He sounded genuinely apologetic. “But you are scared, Eve. You are

making excuses.”

She was. It was true. She so desperately wanted to accept him and to lay to rest the very last

secret between them, yet she knew that if she did she ran the biggest risk of all, that of losing him

for good.

“Eve, look at me,” Rowarth said. “Tell me what truly troubles you.”

It was pointless to resist. He was determined and his gentleness undermined every last defense

she had.

She let go of her last secret. “I told you that I lost our baby five years ago.” She looked up into

his eyes. “What I did not tell you, Rowarth, was that Dr. Culpepper explained that I would never

bear more children.” She took a deep, painful breath. “I had not even known I wanted a child but

then to be told I could never again bear one…it almost destroyed me.” She covered her face

briefly then let her hands fall. She needed to end this. When he had gone she could break down.

“But the point is that we cannot wed, Rowarth. We could not then and we cannot now, for I

would never be able to give you an heir. That was why I ran away.”

There, it was out. The painful truth that she had nursed to herself all these years was finally

exposed in the light. She had never talked of it with anyone. It was too difficult. The wound had

never healed, for the hurt had run too deep. It had scarred over, her defenses imperfect, aching

when something reminded her, or when, like now, the barrenness of her future was spread before

her in all its sterile detail.

Rowarth’s expression had changed. She had known it would. She could not hit him with such a

shocking truth and expect everything to be the same. He would withdraw from her now, free

himself and beat a hasty retreat. He would do it charmingly, of course, with expressions of deep

regret and commiseration even as he headed for the door, but he would leave her nevertheless.

“Eve, I am so very sorry.”

He sounded sincere. Eve was sure he was. She stifled a strong desire to throw herself into his

arms and beg him to make everything right, because of course he could not. No one could. She

drew herself up.

“Thank you.” Inexplicably he was still holding her hands and she realized that he had made no

move to go. He was watching her, the deepest compassion in his face. She swallowed the

enormous lump in her throat.

Why did he not go? She did not want his sympathy. It would be unendurable
.

“Thank you,” she said again, very quickly. “But you must see…” She wished she did not have to

spell it out. “It would be quite impossible for us—for you. You need an heir for Welburn. I know

you love the place very deeply and would want to pass it on to your son. So…”

So why do you not simply go, put an end to this, walk away?

He dropped her hands at last and straightened up. Her body sagged with relief as well as misery.

“I am afraid that I do not.” He sounded terribly polite. Eve felt confused.

“Do not what?”

Unbelievably, there was still a spark of humor in his eyes. Her battered heart lifted to see it

before plunging back down again. How could she feel even remotely happy when she was

banishing forever the love of her life?

“I am afraid that I do not see why this makes it impossible for us to be together.”

She stared at him, utterly unable to comprehend what she was hearing.

“But, Rowarth—”

“My darling Eve.” Now, his arms went about her. Now the comfort and the peace she craved was

so close but she did not quite dare to reach out to grasp it. He pressed his lips to her hair and

spoke softly. “I am sorry for all you have suffered, Eve. I am even more sorry that I was not

beside you when you needed me. I cannot imagine what you have been through or what it feels

like for you, though I would do anything in my power to take away those memories. Alas, I

cannot. But I can promise to devote myself to your future and your happiness always, if only you

will let me.”

“But, Rowarth—” Her throat was clogged with tears. She never normally cried and now she was

turning into a watering pot. It was infuriating. “The dukedom! Pray, do not be so foolish—”

“My darling Eve,” he said again, his lips moving to brush her ear, making her shiver, “my

current heir is my nephew, and he loves Welburn almost as much as I did at his age. I am sure he

has been secretly praying that I will never wed so that he can inherit. And I should be glad if he

did.”

“Oh!” Eve felt taken aback, almost shocked. “But surely a man wants a son?”

Rowarth was strong enough not to deny it.

“It would have been very special,” he acknowledged, “to have had a son—or a daughter—with

you.” For a moment they stood locked together in contemplation of a different future, one that

could not be. Then Rowarth’s arms tightened about her.

“But I want you, Eve, more than anything else in the entire world. You are the one who

completes me. You are all I need.”

Eve felt his compassion and his tenderness and his love touch her soul, taking away the darkness,

and she turned her face up to his.

“I have never loved anyone but you,” she whispered. “I cannot believe this is true. It makes me

feel quite giddy.”

She saw a smile curve his sensuous mouth. “My sweet, I have always said that you are a very

inexperienced courtesan. To love only one man in your entire life…”

She touched his cheek lightly, lovingly. “And you love me, too.”

“So much that it consumes me,” Rowarth said. “I love you even more than I did five years ago. I

had no idea it could be like this.”

“So we may learn about love together.” Her heart unfurled, light banishing the darkness, healing

her. A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and Rowarth caught it with one finger and traced

the line of her cheek.

“You have worked very hard for all that you have achieved here,” he said, as the cuckoo clock

chimed loudly from the desk.

“That’s true. I have.” Eve looked around at the shabby shop and felt a rush of affection for it.

“You once said that you preferred being a pawnbroker to being a duchess.”

“Perhaps I shall have to reconsider.”

“I thought,” Rowarth said, “that you might wish to keep the shop anyway. Perhaps Joan could

run it for you?”

“I think that she would like that very much.” Eve pressed her fingers to his lips. “How generous

you are to risk offering me a means of escape should I find I really do prefer being a pawnbroker

to being a duchess.”

“You will not want to escape.” His arms about her told her that he would never let her go now he

had found her again. The happiness swelled within Eve and this time she dared to trust it. “You

are arrogant,” she whispered.

He laughed. “So you keep telling me.” His voice changed. “Accept me, Eve. Come away with

me.”

Her heart was so light and full of joy she thought she might burst. “I thought that you had a job

to do,” she teased. “You have not yet caught Warren Sampson.”

“The other Guardians can do that,” Rowarth said. “Hawkesbury will not rest until he has

Sampson behind bars.”

“And what will you be doing meanwhile?” Eve asked, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

“I shall be on my wedding trip with you.” Rowarth said. He bent his head and his lips met hers.

“We can go wherever you wish, my love. Wherever you are is my heart’s home and it always

will be.”

If you liked this story, check out the rest of Nicola Cornicks Brides of Fortune series in both

print and eBook formats from HQN Books!

(June 2009)

(July 2009)

(August 2009)

Plus, don’t forget these other Nicola Cornick titles available now as eBooks!

KIDNAPPED: HIS INNOCENT MISTRESS

UNMASKED

THE LAST RAKE IN LONDON

LORD OF SCANDAL

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The Secrets of a Courtesan

Copyright © 2009 by Nicola Cornick

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