She was not entirely sure she believed him, or what he was asking. “But if I were amenable, he would accompany us. That’s what you’re saying, correct?”
“He is my oldest friend.”
“He is far more than your friend. There is no one about, can we not be honest about that point? He’s your lover,” she added the last part sotto voce. “So, what is it you are truly asking me, Lucerne? Just so that there is no misunderstanding.”
Chastened enough to bow his head, Lucerne ruminated in silence a while. Eventually, he set his shoulders square again, and turned so that they were facing one another. “Fine, since you ask it, I will state it plainly. I did hope that the three of us might negotiate an arrangement that would provide us all with contentment.”
“That is still rather vague.”
His elegant brow furrowed. “What I’m saying— Things were good the night the three of us shared, were they not? What if it could be like that—”
Bella jerked away from him, toppling the bowl of chestnuts in the process, which scattered across the hearth. “How could it be like that? He hates me! Perhaps you are so blinded by love so as not to have noticed that. And I—I do not much care for him either.” A tingling sensation took root in her nose. Irritably, she rubbed at it, but the prickle only spread to her eyes. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten that he bet on me like a horse—”
“I’ll admit that wasn’t well done.”
“It was monstrous. Unforgiveable. He is monstrous. I don’t wish any involvement with him, Lucerne.” Borne upright through anger, Bella trampled on the scattered nuts. They crunched beneath her feet, as her words fractured the hope in Lucerne’s eyes. “I see no appeal in having to endlessly compete with him for every scrap of your attention.”
Lucerne stood too. “Bella, I see how you look at him—”
“With hatred,” she snapped.
“With desire.”
He stared down at her, daring her to say otherwise. “I am neither blind nor simple. Do you imagine I don’t know that there is more between the two of you than either of you has willingly shared with me? It was not that night we shared that he won that bet, was it Bella? You had already—”
“I despise him, as he does me,” she shouted over him, but even as the words left her mouth, her heart squeezed impossibly tight. “He hates me, and that I divert your attention away from you and he.”
“The latter part of that might hold some truth, but certainly not the former. I do not even think you believe it yourself; it is only convenient to tell yourself that lie.”
“Are you now calling me a liar?”
“Bella,” he said more evenly, in a clear attempt to soothe her temper. “I think you like the fight. And he is the perfect foil for you to rail against. If you would only consent to ask him, then might we not negotiate an arrangement between us that we’ll all enjoy.”
Bella stared at him agog. She tried, but her words remained lodged in her throat. “Ask him?” she eventually managed to wheeze. “Ask him what, Lucerne? You cannot seriously mean me to ask him if he’d condescend to sharing you with me?”
“I believe if you did, he would—”
“You want me to ask him if we can form a merry little triune for your gratification? The devil I will.” It was bad enough that she had to share his affections here in Yorkshire, to do so out in the world, beneath public scrutiny; it was unthinkable.
“Bella, please.”
“No, Lucerne. The only one who would benefit from such a nightmarish configuration is you. I don’t know how you dare stand before me and even suggest it. At the very least, you might have opened by offering me your hand, rather than some vague implication of an understanding. Though, in truth, you have not even offered that, you have only bidden me come to London, without stating in what capacity I should accompany you. One must conclude that you mean as your mistress.”
“Bella, it is not that I don’t want to off—”
“Then do so.”
“You know I cannot.”
“Because of him.”
Lucerne’s expression hardened in a way that made his cheekbones protrude. Ice glazed the blue of his eyes. “Yes, because of him. How can I make a vow to you, when I love him also?”
His words echoed inside her mind, while her eyes fogged up with tears. “Also?” she spluttered. “You say also, but I do not even know that you love me. When have you ever said it? No, don’t try to justify yourself.” She held him at bay with one arm. “Your actions speak for themselves. Your heart is his, and I… I am a convenient foil that you might hide that from others. If I wish to bind myself to a man who does not love me then there are plenty whom I might choose without subjecting myself to the additional torture of knowing my husband prefers to fuck other men.”
“Bella,” he stammered, but she was in full swing. Too hurt and afraid, too miserable at the thought of being abandoned to rein in her anger. “Ride off with him.” Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. “Go back to London and leave me out of it. I won’t be part of your perverted love. In fact, I hope you and Ganymede both hang for it.”
~*~