Page 10 of Buon Natale, My Wicked Rogue
“Goodness, Mrs. Berry, you’ve gone quite pale.” Lady Wyndam’s brows drew together. “What are you thinking about so deeply?” “Jacob.” What else was there to say?
“Tell me more about Jacob. Were you in love with him?”
“Yes.” In the days before her marriage to Jacob, she had been afire for his every glance and touch. Her beautiful golden Adonis. Hardly able to wait for their wedding night, she had eaten little and been atremble with longing and anticipation.
Then, the disappointment.
And later, the betrayals.
Her heartbeat sped, and her mouth went dry. Perhaps she had a second chance now to find out what she’d missed.
“Were you married young?”
“Eighteen.”
“Was he the same age or older?”
“He was one year older than I.”
“Nineteen in years. Old enough to woo a girl and to become a husband. But perhaps he was much younger in his behavior and bearing?” Angela nodded. Lady Wyndam had a way of narrowing in on the important aspect.
“It’s such a shame that things must so often be that way.” Lady Wyndam’s regretful tone so matched her own that Angela was forced to smile.
She lifted one shoulder and waved her hand dismissively. “Perhaps it is always the way.”
“Lord Ashington is a man who is fully grown in both his body and his behavior. However, I will not lie to you. He has lived the typical life of an unmarried nobleman and shows no signs of settling down. Yet, this life has given him a great deal of experience in how to entertain a woman, both in and out of bed.”
Her cheeks flamed again, even as heat curled low in her belly. This conversation was utterly shocking. Yet wasn’t a loverwhat she’d hoped to find at the masquerade? An experienced man who could show her the delights of love. And maybe she’d wanted that man to be a nobleman for reasons that she wasn’t ready to examine too closely just yet.
But wait for one moment. Just how did Lady Wyndam know all this about Lord Ashington? Through her lashes, she took a quick, secretive glance at the older woman.
“Please do not be embarrassed, Mrs. Berry.” Lady Wyndam seemed to refer to her blush and apparently had not caught her inquisitive glance. “You are not the first lady I have introduced to Lord Ashington with the intention of aiding her in finding some adventure. And I can tell you I always get a most favorable report after their affair is over. I received many lovely gifts of flowers and pineapples and sometimes even a pretty trinket in thanks for my efforts on their behalf. We widows must look out for each other.”
Oh Mamma Mia!Had she ever dreamed of such a conversation?
Dreamed of such a woman? Yet, she was grinning widely now.
And giggling and pressing her hand over her mouth. Soon, her whole body shook with her sense of mischievous fun. Truth? She loved this chat and this woman’s company.
How could she not? The lady was absolutely scandalous and so unabashedly naughty.
Absolutely wonderful, as well. And exactly what she needed. She should accept this lady’s counsel. However, if she allowed the practical, prudent part of her to rule, she’d miss out again.
From what Lady Wyndam said, she’d likely miss much more than before.
“I am glad to see you laughing and feeling better. You seemed so strained last night, and I don’t think all of that was due to the near attack,” Lady Wyndam said. “It is not easy being a widow, especially a young widow.”
With effort, Angela swallowed back her laughter and attempted to calm herself. “You are correct about that.”
She had felt so lost for so many months. It felt so good to talk honestly with someone who understood. Even Susan hadn’t been so empathetic.
“Often, there is nowhere that a widow can turn for understanding and help. That’s why, together with my widowed friends, we created the Widows’ League.”
“A league for widows in need. That’s a wonderful idea.”
“Well, it is not just for those who need aid in troubled times. It is also for those seeking to find their own liberty and to empower those seeking new connections and experiences.”
Angela’s smile broadened. “Those seeking adventure.”
