Page 5 of Invitation
“Far more of the ton are like them than like you.”She sipped her sherry, but it did nothing to alleviate her irritation.
“Which is why you choose to spend your time with me.”His tempting lips curled into a satisfied smile.He moved forward, lessening the space between them.
Mirabelle skirted him and walked back to the window.“I spend my time with you because that’s what you pay me for.”She heard his intake of breath but didn’t turn.Instead, she stared out the window and fixed on the lamp across the street.
“That’s all I am to you?”
She knew he cared for her, as much as a protector could care for the woman who warmed his bed but with whom he would never share a lasting relationship.Perhaps notnever.Heloise had found that one-in-a-million gentleman who’d truly fallen in love with her.He’d seen the woman beneath the courtesan, the vulnerable girl who’d been forced from her home and scraped to survive in a foreign land.
While Lucien saw those things too, it was different.He didn’t love her.Nor did Mirabelle love him.She did like him, though.
Pivoting halfway from the window, she glanced in his direction.“You are more than that.A friend, I hope.But that is all.I don’t want this life anymore.”
She’d been considering it for a while now, but hadn’t realized she’d made the decision until the words tumbled forth.Heloise’s experience today had starkly illustrated what would happen in the very best of circumstances.
“You want to break things off with me?”
“Yes, and I don’t wish to engage in an arrangement with another gentleman again.Ever.I am tired of living on the fringe, of wondering if I should have stayed a poor seamstress and tried to work my way into a finer shop in Mayfair.”
“I’ve seen your attempts at embroidery, Belle.I can’t see you as a modiste.”The humor in Lucien’s tone should have made her smile, but she was just…cold.
“Just because I can’t sew doesn’t mean I can’t manage others who do.”
He laughed, and the sound was the first thing that had given her a modicum of comfort besides the sherry.“ThatI can imagine.You are a managing sort.Indeed, I could see you in charge of a grand house with an army of servants and a half dozen children.”
She pursed her lips at him.“Please tell me that isn’t a proposal.It was extremely unromantic.”
He came toward her, but stopped after a few steps.“May I approach?”He eyed her with hesitation and perhaps a ray of hope.
“You may.”
When he was close, but not too close, he took her free hand, clasping it gently between his thumb and fingers.“I would never deign to offer for your hand.I am not worthy.”
She let out a most unladylike snort.“Your father would sayIam not worthy.”
“True, but he has exceptionally poor taste.”Lucien flashed a smile, then pressed a kiss to her hand before letting her go.“If you aren’t to continue in this life, as you put it, what do you plan to do?”
“I’m considering my options.”She had absolutely no idea.It was both terrifying and exhilarating.She had a bit of money saved, but not enough to open her own modiste shop.
He arched a dark brow, the glow of hope in his gaze brightening.“Would you consider a separation gift from me that would see you settled wherever and however you’d like?”
“Absolutely not.You should know me better than that.I don’t take charity.”
“I’d say you earned it.”
“That isn’t much better.You’ve already compensated me more extravagantly than most women in my trade can expect.”
He lifted a shoulder.“I can afford it.”
Mirabelle let out a low grunt and stalked away from him again.“Oh, just go.You’re no better than them, tossing around your importance and your wealth.I don’t need either of those things.I’ll provide for myself, thank you, just as I have always done.”
“Your pride is a marvelous thing.Please don’t let it get the better of you.”
She swung around to face him, and this time, sherry did crest over the side of the glass and splash her fingers.“Spoken like a man who doesn’t understand the meaning of privilege or what it means not to have any.Please go.I’ll be gone from here within the week.”
He frowned, the muscles in his jaw working.“Belle.”
“Please go.”She turned her back on him, her body thrumming with an inner turmoil that she now realized had been building for some time.
