Twenty-Nine
Cora passed the day in a delightful haze. She had awoken alone in his bed and had debated staying there until the LSS meeting that afternoon. A fanciful thought, but her rumbling stomach had soon intervened. Before leaving his room, she had snooped in the drawer in his bedside table—what did men keep in there anyway?—where she had found every ribbon he had taken from her braid carefully stored away. She imagined him all those nights they had pretended to sleep together pocketing them and putting them away for safekeeping. What did he want with them? She couldn’t fathom, but knowing he kept them made her feel warm and cared for.
She carried that feeling with her throughout the day.
“What has you so chipper?” Eliza asked as she climbed into the carriage. She was accompanying Cora to Mrs. Burgess’s home where they would await the results of the vote along with other members of the LSS. Jenny and Fanny were off attending a party, so they weren’t able to come.
Cora smiled and attempted a shrug, but the smile expanded until it felt like it took over her whole face and her cheeks burned. “Nothing,” she said, but it sounded like a lie.
Eliza gave her a knowing grin as she settled back into her seat and the carriage jolted forward. “Cora Dove, have you slept with your husband?”
Cora didn’t even want to deny it. “I’m not a Dove any longer. I’m Leo’s wife now in every sense.”
“It’s Leo now, is it?” Eliza squealed and grabbed her hand. “Tell me everything. Was he gentle? Did he take his time with you?”
Cora laughed. She couldn’t possibly tell her sister everything. What had happened between them was too special. Words wouldn’t do it justice. Even now she floated in the remembered pleasure of the previous night. Not only the pleasure, but the certainty that she had found something rare and special with Leo. Leo, not Devonworth. That name was too cold and removed from what they were now, at least in private.
They were Cora and Leo. Leo and Cora. She had never imagined having a man like him in her life. She had thought that, on some level, most men were like Mr. Hathaway. They were ready to use a woman to their advantage and then leave her. But she had been so very wrong and shortsighted. Leo wasn’t like that. It was early yet in their marriage, and her mother’s warning about falling in love still nagged at her, but she was willing to risk it. This was Leo, her husband, not some nameless stranger anymore.
“Yes, he was gentle. He was everything I could have wanted.”
She spent the next few minutes deftly evading her sister’s questions until Eliza finally gave up. Staring out the window with a wistful look on her face, Eliza said, “Do you suppose it’s bad of me to want that for myself?”
“To want a happy marriage? No, I don’t think that’s unreasonable.”
Eliza looked at her with an expression that was far too wise for her years. “No, I don’t expect that. Not if I want my inheritance.”
Cora stilled. “What do you mean exactly?”
“Passion. I’ve never felt it and I want to.”
“You don’t think you’ll have that with Viscount Mainwaring?”
Eliza shook her head. “He’s not a very passionate man.”
“Neither was Devonworth, or so I thought, but—”
“Cora, he’s not like Devonworth.”
Cora thought back to the man she had met only a few times. Mainwaring had seemed very reserved and well-mannered, the typical nobleman. “Then you don’t have to marry him.”
Eliza held up her hand. “No, I’m resigned to do what’s right. We need to make certain Mama is provided for, and Jenny has all but said she won’t wed any of them. It’s up to you and me to keep their futures secure. My only sadness is that I will never know true passion.”
Cora didn’t know what to say to that. If she were being honest, it was very likely true. Mainwaring seemed the type that would keep a mistress for his baser needs once a wife had done her duty and given him an heir.
“I’ve heard rumors that he and his friends have made something of a tour of the Italian brothels. There’s a bet about how many they’ll frequent.”
“Where did you hear this?” It certainly wasn’t the sort of talk to be found in polite society.
Eliza sighed. “Mama took Jenny and me to have dinner with Camille and Mr. Thorne. His home is attached to Montague Club, so I had a peek inside.” At Cora’s horrified look, she added, “Don’t worry. No one saw me.”
Cora had been too concerned with her marriage to consider how Fanny might be negatively influencing her sisters. If Mainwaring or anyone in Society found out that Eliza had been to the club, then the betrothal could fall apart. “Eliza, if you want this marriage, you cannot go back there.”
The carriage turned onto Mrs. Burgess’s street, which increased her sense of urgency that her sister understand how that behavior could destroy everything. She only had a minute or two to impress that upon her. “Women have joined the club. They are limited to widows, powerful women with powerful husbands, and middle-class women who are not constrained by the need to marry a nobleman. Mainwaring won’t marry you if you develop a reputation.”
“I know all of that, but I simply wanted to see. And it’s good I did. They have a betting room there. There’s a large board filled with bets written in chalk. Mainwaring’s name is there, along with all of the men who went on this excursion. Even Devonworth’s brother, Harry. They all had tick marks next to their name. A very helpful and inebriated man explained to me that each mark represented an infamous courtesan.
“So . . . I suppose what I’m asking is if he is having his adventure before our marriage, would it be so very terrible if I had one great passion, too, before we wed?”
The carriage rolled to a stop and the footman jumped down. “Eliza . . . I don’t believe that—”
The door opened. Eliza smiled at her and accepted the footman’s hand. “Just think about it.”
Cora anticipated she would do little else, but as it turned out, even Eliza’s disturbing revelation couldn’t put a damper on her good mood. Eliza would find her own way. Cora had no doubt of that. Other Society members were arriving at the same time, so the next hours were taken up with small talk and discussion about their plans going forward, whether the vote passed or not. Through it all, she felt the imprint of Leo’s hands on her skin and couldn’t wait to get home to him later that night.
By early evening, everyone was crowded around tables in the drawing room taking tea and refreshments when the front bell rang, which likely meant the vote had finished. Mrs. Burgess had briefed them that she had a man inside watching the proceedings and he would dispatch a messenger the very moment there was news to be shared. At the sound of the tinkling, everyone became deathly silent; not even the sound of the wheezing Mr. Eversby, the man who sat beside her, broke the quiet.
Mrs. Burgess rose from her table and made her way to the open doorway. Murmurs broke out at the other tables. A messenger appeared and handed a folded note to the woman. She thanked him and took a stabilizing breath. Soft murmurs broke the quiet as everyone anticipated what was in the note. Several were certain that the bill would pass this time. Everyone knew that married women deserved the same rights as unmarried women. Several believed that they had years to go and an uphill battle to fight yet. The others were somewhere in the middle.
The older woman turned to the room, and everyone quieted again. To a person, they all respected her, and her general bearing demanded to be heard, but in this case they wanted to know what was in that note. “Whatever the outcome of the vote may have been, we can rest well knowing that we have done our best. I am proud of each of you for the time and effort you have put into the passage of this bill. We are a light of freedom to guide the rest of the world.”
There were several hear, hears but mostly everyone was silent and anxiously awaiting the result. Mrs. Burgess closed her eyes briefly before looking down at the paper and unfolding it. When she looked up, Cora couldn’t make out anything in her expression. It was exactly as reserved as it always was.
Finally, she said, “The vote was unsuccessful. We will not allow this to deter us.” Her voice rose, its unquestioning authority ringing out over the space to be heard over the shouts of disapproval. “We will continue to fight this fight. It is an important step along the long road to suffrage, and we will not stand for its death.”
She went on to say how they would redouble their efforts. They would work harder to petition every MP and sitting Lord. As she spoke, Cora imagined starting her periodical early, before her separation from Leo. Which, now, she was increasingly certain she didn’t want to happen at all. Perhaps she could devote her first efforts to the passage of this act. She would interview the women she had met and would continue to meet as Leo’s wife. She would keep them anonymous, of course, but hearing their thoughts could only help them next year when they pushed for the marriage act again.
Instead of feeling defeated, she felt hopeful as she left Mrs. Burgess’s home later that evening. The bill’s failure was a blow, and many women would continue to be affected by the unfair laws, but Cora believed this was only a temporary setback, as did Mrs. Burgess. The woman had given them a rousing talk, and Cora felt as if she might have a real purpose here in England. She expected nothing less than Leo’s support. He had never once tried to hinder her except for the one time regarding the demonstration. She was certain they could come to some agreement about her safety. Eliza, too, was taken with the idea of the periodical, and so they spoke about that on the way to drop her off. Then on the way home, Cora thought of Leo and how they would spend the rest of the night.
Devonworth walked under the weight of his guilt as he made his way up the stairs. The house had been deathly silent when he’d arrived. He wasn’t certain how he’d find Cora. She’d undoubtedly already heard about the vote.
She had probably not yet learned how he’d voted. He hoped she hadn’t. He needed to be able to explain to her himself. Bolingrave had found that damning information about her and left him little choice in the matter.
Vining had given Bolingrave a payment receipt from a publication based in Brooklyn, New York, that had paid Cora for an article penned by Lavender Starling, a pseudonym. It had been for a radical essay espousing the benefits of Free Love, a concept that even members of the LSS weren’t ready to embrace. Had it got out, not only would his wife be a laughingstock of the ton, but she would have likely lost her place in the group. He knew how important that was to her. If they had any chance of staying together in the long term, he knew that she needed to find a cause of her own. It would nurture her and help her feel at home here. He’d known for a while, and especially after last night, that he didn’t want to lose her. He wanted her as his wife in all ways, for all time. The stain on her reputation would be so great that even his name couldn’t save her. Her sisters would lose all hope of good marriages and likely lose the dowries Hathaway had dangled in front of them.
But now that he had done what he’d done, he didn’t know if he’d condemned his marriage. She might leave him now. Thanks to his no vote on the bill for married women’s property rights, the receipt was safely in the breast pocket of his coat where it would stay until he could burn it. He despised that Bolingrave had gone to such measures, and for what? The bill would not have passed even if Devonworth had voted for it. There simply hadn’t been the numbers to see it pass. The bellend had done it out of sheer spite to get back at her for penning that rebuttal in the newspaper.
Devonworth had read the article written under the name Lavender Starling, though he hadn’t made the connection to Cora until today when he’d seen the payment receipt. She had been articulate and had thoroughly annihilated every argument Bolingrave had made, and the man hadn’t been able to let that pass unchecked.
He took the stairs slowly, worried that she would have somehow found out about everything and be ready to leave him. A light shone from beneath her door, so he knocked lightly. When she didn’t answer, he carefully opened the door and found her room vacant, but the door to the bathing chamber was cracked open and the light was on. If she had heard, she was taking things exceedingly well.
With a prayer that she would forgive him, he stepped into the bathing chamber. She was in the tub, soapy water both concealing her and revealing her as it swirled around her. She smiled at him and held an arm out to him, and he knew without a doubt that she had no idea of his betrayal. Her pink nipples played with the water line, peeking out at him.
“Cora.” His voice ached with what he had to tell her.
“I know about the vote . . . I was at the LSS meeting when we got the news.”
“I am so very sorry.” He walked over and sank down to his knees beside the tub.
“Don’t worry,” she said, touching his temple and smoothing her fingers through the stiffness of his hair.
He’d styled it with pomade, but that had been hours ago and some of it had flopped to the side. Blood rushed through his groin as he remembered how she had run her fingers through his hair last night and clasped them tight in the strands as she’d found her release beneath him. He closed his eyes in pleasure. This would all end when he told her the truth.
“The results weren’t completely unexpected. Mrs. Burgess prepared us for this. Even if it had passed, it would have been by a slim margin. We’ll try again and again until we’re successful. It will pass eventually. I have no doubt.”
“I promise I will do everything I can to help. I’ve already arranged for Mrs. Burgess of the LSS to have a meeting with the men who supported the bill.” He’d spoken with Lords Burton and St. Michael and secured their agreement. “We can work together to plan a campaign that will see this pass in the next few years.”
She gave him a look of utter adoration. “You would do that?”
“I would go to the ends of the earth to see you happy.” No truer words had ever fallen from his lips. He was coming to need her in a way that was wholly unexpected and not entirely comfortable.
The fragrance of lavender touched his nose, and he turned to kiss the scent from her wrist, but he couldn’t stop kissing her. He kissed the bend of her arm, the creamy skin of her shoulder, before taking her lips. What was meant to be a soft kiss of homecoming became deeper and harsher. The desperation that was always between them flared to life, caught like kindling. Their mouths and tongues met as if they had been apart for days rather than hours. Before he realized what he was doing, his hands dipped into the cooling water and his arms snaked around her.
She giggled against his lips as he lifted her out completely. “I’m getting you all wet.”
“Not as wet as I’m about to make you,” he growled against her neck.
He was greedy for her and this madness that existed between them. He told himself it wouldn’t be so terrible to give themselves this one more night together before he had to ruin everything with the truth.
She laughed again and held tight as he took her to his room and dropped her on the bed. The sight of her, naked and wet on his bed, made him almost feral in his need. He tore at his clothes and left them where they fell as he climbed onto the bed and settled between her thighs. Her eager fingers found him and guided him to her. He drove inside her in one deep thrust as he took her mouth in a soul-searing kiss. He would never get enough of her. She was a powerful addiction from which he never wanted to be free.