The Truth by Jane Lark ~ a free book exclusive to my blog ~ part thirty-one

The Truth

© Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark,

this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 ,19,20,21,22,23,24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30

Richard

Richard woke. There was a noise in the day cabin, a woman’s sobbing.

Oh God, Emma was crying, and she must be in the day cabin, he would not have been able to hear her if she was crying in her own cabin on the opposite side to his. For some reason she had come out of her room.

His heart held still as he listened for a moment, not knowing what to do. But then it pounded. He sat up, moving the sheet aside. He had to do something.

But surely she had not walked across the deck at this hour to reach the cabin, she must have unlocked the adjoining door on her side.

A bitter resignation clasped within his chest when he picked up his trousers. He was not the best man to provide comfort, he was not the most sensitive, and yet for weeks now he had been submerged in a sea of sympathetic feelings for her – because he’d discovered what it was to love. He could not hear her sobbing and stay in his room, it was beyond him, even though he knew how foolish it would for them to be in the day cabin together, alone at night.

But who was to know, as far as anyone else on the ship was concerned they were in their cabins, and her door was locked.

He put on his trousers and buttoned the flap, then pulled a shirt over his head. He left it untucked, and open at his neck without a neckcloth and he did not bother with stockings but turned the key in his connecting door and went into the day cabin. Moonlight illuminated the room, and Emma. She was sitting on the floor, with her head resting on her knees, as her back pressed against her cabin door.

He said nothing as he walked across the room, but the floorboards creaked beneath his bare feet. She did not move or stop crying, though he sensed she heard him approach. “Emma.”

She looked up, eyes wide and sparkling with fluid, acknowledging the fact he stood there but nothing more. She had no words to express her pain, anymore than he could find them to comfort her.

He dropped to his haunches, then turned and sat next to her, pressing his back to the closed door as he reached an arm about her and braced her shoulders. She fell into him, accepting his physical comfort. Her arms embraced his midriff, and her head rested against his shoulder. They sat like that, her heart breaking in his arms for an hour perhaps–he had no track of time.

He stroked her hair. “I know it hurts, Emma. But the pain will grow more distant with time. You’ll survive this, sweetheart. I promise. And I will send word to your father. He will come for you as soon as he hears…” His words went on, trying to offer what reassurance he could.

When her sobs eventually subsided, she did not move, but continued to hold him for minutes more with her head against his chest, as though she listened to the pace of his heart.

“I want to go home,” the words were said against his chest.

“I know, darling,” his fingers brushed her hair back from her forehead. “I’ll get you there.”

Her head lifted and she looked in his eyes, with that inquiry and intelligence that was individual to Emma.

Without thinking, he leant forward and touched her lips with his, he meant nothing by it, it had been a response to an instinct that he’d let lead him. But she pressed her lips back against his, and her fingers slid into his hair and pulled him closer.

Before he knew it, his hands were pressing to her back and holding her there as his lips parted and his tongue swept into her mouth. The kiss took on a life of its own, his restraint of weeks broken. She was willingly giving, and seeking. Her small breasts brushed against his chest through two thin layers of cotton, her nightdress and his shirt. There was the warmth and softness of her body. Her tongue circled and fenced with his, then parried, pressing into his mouth. The craving inside him had a dark, dangerous intensity. He longed to lay her back on the floor and continue this to its conclusion. It would ease her distress, and appease the painful frustration he’d felt for weeks. But it could not be done. She was an aristocratic, genteel woman, unmarried, and a virgin – yet one day. One day he would have her as his wife, and in his bed.

He broke the kiss and pulled away. Her gaze asked him, why?

“Emma, darling, this can go no further, we must stop. It should not have begun. I should not have kissed you. You’re grieving. I need to let you do so. I will say nothing to you yet. Take what time you need. We will talk about this when you feel a little better. But in the meantime, know I will do anything that I can for you, but I will not risk your reputation. No matter how much I wish to I cannot show you affection before the crew, we must remain distant from one another before others.”

Her gaze held his, her pupils wide dark pools of jet.

The words that he should not say spun through his head. He had no right to say them, but he couldn’t hold them back any longer. “I love you. I have done so for weeks. I shall give you space and time. I will not speak yet. But I will do so when the time is right. I know you said you did not look for marriage, and yet you are promised to this man in England. But I cannot let you agree to have him. There is something between us that will not be denied. You long for something more from life, I know, and I can give you that. I can give you more than this man who is a stranger to you. We can travel. I can show you places, give you the enlightenment and knowledge you long for. Will you listen to me then, when the time is right for me to make you an offer?”

Her checks flushed, he could see it even in the moonlight leaching the colour from her skin. She nodded, “Yes,” and slid her fingers into his hair, then pulled him down so she could press her lips to his.

He gave himself into her hands and kissed her in return – but he held himself back, taking nothing more than she gave. Just a kiss, just the knowledge of returned affection, just the pressure of her body against him as his hands rested on her back.

He had never felt hungrier for a woman in his life as he let her go. “You should get into your bed, Emma.” Before I can no longer stop myself from doing what I should not.

She smiled, accepting his hand. He stood and drew her up. Her grip on his hand reminded him of the nights they’d spent in the dark when she was ill. How many weeks would he have to wait until the next time he could touch her? Becoming selfless was a bloody curse.

She lifted on to her toes and kissed his lips again, as her free hand braced his neck.

The hunger inside him rose to the fore and he leant her back against the door, letting go of her hand and instead cupping her bottom and pulling her body flush to his. The vision of her from the recurring dream he’d had for weeks flooded his mind, slender legs wrapped about his waist as she lay beneath him.

“Emma,” he broke the kiss, feeling himself harden for her, “you need to go.”

She pressed one last kiss on his lips then obeyed, slipping free of his hold and then opening her cabin door and going into there. The door shut behind her.

His fingers clasped in his hair. This was torture.

To be continued…

The Marlow Intrigues: Perfect for lovers of period drama, like Victoria and Poldark.

The Lost Love of Soldier ~ The Prequel #1 ~ A Christmas Elopement began it all

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan #2

Capturing The Love of an Earl ~ A Free Novella #2.5

The Passionate Love of a Rake #3

The Desperate Love of a Lord ~ A second Free Novella #3.5

The Scandalous Love of a Duke #4

The Dangerous Love of a Rogue #5

The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel #5.5

The Persuasive Love of a Libertine #5.75 now included in Jealous Love, (or free if you can persuade Amazon to price match with Kobo ebooks) 😉

The Secret Love of a Gentleman #6

The Reckless Love of an Heir #7

Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback and, yes, there are more to come

Go to the index

For

the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,
another free short story, about characters from book #2, A Lord’s Scandalous Love,
the prequel excerpts for book #3 The Scandalous Love of a Duke

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark

The tale of the ‘Three Graces’, the life story of a real 19th Century courtesan continues

As I told you last week, Lord Lorne was not entirely devoted to Harriette, and perhaps it was his lack of complete devotion which inspired Harriette to raise her game, or maybe it was simply that she had his money to spend now. But whatever inspired and enabled it, Harriette began to increase the circles she moved in and opened up a shop window for her beauty.

Now, for those joining my blog this week, here’s a quick snapshot of Harriette’s history. For anyone who’s already read this, pick the blog up at the end of the italics.

In 1825 Harriette Wilson, a courtesan, published a series of stories as her memoirs in a British broad sheet paper. The Regency gentleman’s clubs were a buzz, waiting to see the next names mentioned each week. While barriers had to be set up outside the shop of her publisher, Stockdale, to hold back the disapproving mob.

Harriette was born Harriette Debochet, she chose the name Harriette Wilson as her professional name, in the same way Emma Hart, who I’ve blogged about previously, had changed her name. Unlike Emma, it isn’t known why or when Harriette changed her name.

She was one of nine surviving children. Her father was a watchmaker and her mother a stocking repairer, and both were believed to be from illegitimate origin.

Three of Harriette’s sisters also became courtesans. Amy, Fanny and Sophia (who I have written about before). So the tales I am about to begin in my blogs will include some elements from their lives too.

For a start you’ll need to understand the world of the 19^th Century Courtesan. It was all about show and not just about sex. The idle rich of the upper class aspired to spending time in the company of courtesans, it was fashionable, the thing to do.

You were envied if you were linked to one of the most popular courtesans or you discovered a new unknown beauty to be admired by others.

Courtesans were also part of the competitive nature of the regency period too, gambling was a large element of the life of the idle rich and courtesans were won and lost and bartered and fought for.

So courtesans obviously aspired to be one of the most popular, and to achieve it they learnt how to play music, read widely, so they could debate, and tried to shine in personality too. They wanted to be a favoured ’original’.

The eccentric and outspoken was admired by gentlemen who liked to consort with boxers and jockeys, and coachmen, so courtesans did not aim for placid but were quite happy to insult and mock men who courted them, and demand money for any small favour.

Harriette says her eldest sister, Amy, was the one who led them all astray. She tells the tale that Amy left home, met a man, and then became his mistress the next day. This man then paid for Amy to return to school and become educated but, while there, Amy ran away with another lover. Amy and Harriette did not get along. But Harriette did visit her when she lived with her lovers even before Harriette had left home. Perhaps Harriett learnt her tricks from Amy.

Fanny was also an ill-example, another of Harriette’s older sisters, and one who Harriette was very close to. Fanny also left home to live with a man but would have married her first lover whom she had three children with, if his wife had not refused to divorce him. Then he died.

But whichever one of Harritte’s sisters inspired her to adopt the life of courtesan, when Harriette was settled in London, and now had Lord Lorne’s money to spend, her sister Fanny and her friend Julia, whom she’d met when she was with her former lover, for company, Harriette realised new heights.

Harriette, Fanny and Julia regularly went about together and they hired an opera box to share for the season. Of course the box meant they might show themselves off to society. It was their shop window, to offer their wares – beauty, conversation and perhaps more.

Harriette’s older sister Amy had her own box near theirs, where she courted her own set of admirers. (Perhaps where Harriette got the idea from). Knowing Harriette through her writing, I bet she loved setting up in competition to the sister she disliked.

At the opera Harriette says she learnt to become a complete flirt. And her implication is that this increased flirtation was inspired by Lord Lorne. When she went to the opera she frequently sat facing him as he occupied a box with his married mistress, leaving his employed one across the room.

Harriette declares that she would purposefully look tenderly towards other men, hinting at seeking to make Lorne jealous. She even says one day when she was with Fanny and Julia and met Lord Lorne in the park she gave him a note, which he slipped in his pocket, thinking it a love note to him, but then Harriette asked him to put in the post. It was addressed to another man she had been at the opera with the night before – that girl had such a sense of humour and a great wicked streak :-).

I love the life Harriette describes when they entertained in her theatre box. It must have been constant banter and laughing as it filled up with the elite men of London Society. She speaks of one evening when she could only let a man in when one left because her box became so full. When Julia and Fanny went to visit the enemy, as one of the men called Harriette’s sister Amy, one of her frequent visitors opened the door and says ‘room for two?’ as he brought in a friend.

William Cavendish, 6th Duke of Devonshire, known as ‘Hart’

She speaks of the Duke of Devonshire visiting her box too. This was Hart, the son of Georgiana, the Duchess whose story was told in the film. He was also the cousin of Lady Caroline Lamb . He was profoundly deaf and Harriette doesn’t like him and I hate to say it, was a bit mean to him, hinting that he should go and make room for someone she did like.

She mentions men telling her Lord Lorne was looking, from Lady W’s box. Which she loved to hear but refused to acknowledge.

Then she tells us that in the refreshment room Lord Lorne would pass her and whisper in her ear, to ask if she was not going to go home now. Presumably Refusing to be ordered Harriette would tell him, no, and say she would be out another three hours if she was going to one of Amy’s parties. At which Lord Lorne would simply ask if he might visit her in three hours then, to come to her bed. (Let’s remember, he was funding her lifestyle – so she was playing very close the edge).

Harriette describes one of Amy’s parties, saying there were men in the passage, in the parlour and in the drawing-room where Amy sat entertaining three Russians, you could scarcely breathe.

Beau Brummell

So now when Harriette speaks of men she is not talking of one or two but twenty, and she is mixing with men at the very peak of English society in 1800’s. She speaks of a conversation with Beau Brummell, friend of the Prince Regent and the man half of English Society looked up to at the time, and Brummell whispering to her to tease another gentleman and keep him dangling so she might laugh at him.

But all this time Harriette was enjoying herself and seeking to inspire jealousy in Lord Lorne, neglecting the man who was keeping her, Amy who had no constant engagement was angling to win that man for herself…

The story continues next week 🙂

Links for blogs

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional love stories.

See the side bar for details of Jane’s books, and Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark