The Harlot Countess by Shupe Joanna

Author:Shupe, Joanna [Shupe, Joanna]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2015-03-06T00:00:00+00:00

Thus far, it had been an extraordinary day.

In her studio, Maggie had set to work on the landscapes for Ackermann, grinning like a simpleton all the while. Hard to recall a time when she’d been this productive. She felt relaxed and well rested, even though she’d had very little sleep. Her cheeks grew hot, the reason obvious. Last evening, well, she’d been in bed but most definitely not resting.

Simon had fallen asleep first, his patrician face boyishly handsome in slumber. She had watched him for a long time, content to merely drink him in. Full lips parted softly, his chest rising and falling. Blond lashes brushing the tops of his angled cheekbones. A thin layer of whiskers spreading over his jaw. How intimate, to see and feel those sharp hairs sprout on a man’s face. How wifely.

With her entire being, she had longed to stay in the warm cocoon of his bed, their bare legs brushing one another in relaxed, postcoital doze. But it wasn’t real. The contentment was an illusion. He knew nothing about her, not really. In fact, he continued to believe all the untrue, hurtful things said about her. And no matter how tender, how loving he’d been last night, the pain of what had happened during her debut could not be undone.

So she forced herself out of his embrace, to rise and return home. Better that way. Safer. She could not allow herself to feel tenderness or affection for him, not now. Not ever.

Too late, a voice inside her whispered. With her heart a shade too full of feelings this morning, she feared it was true.

Determined to forget, she turned back to her work, the one true solace from the melee of her life. No matter what chaotic mess tumbled down around her, there would always be the art. Her way of bringing joy and beauty into such a harsh, violent, and oftentimes cruel world.

The morning light had just begun to shift overhead when a knock interrupted.

“Yes?” She stretched her fingers to relieve the stiffness.

Tilda appeared. “Milady, that earl is back again, asking to see you.”

“Now?” Oh, dear. She had not expected him so soon. Had he come to update her on Cora? Or did he want to discuss last night? A strong sense of foreboding settled at the top of her spine. “Please show him in, Tilda. I’ll be down directly.”

The maid nodded and withdrew. Maggie spent a few minutes making herself presentable. Washed her hands. Removed her apron and hung it up. Smoothed her hair and pinched her cheeks. Then she found a pair of pristine white gloves from a table drawer and slid them on to hide the stains on her fingers. This routine calmed her, as it was something to focus on rather than the nervousness churning in her belly. She had no regrets about last night, far from it, but she did not wish to see him so soon.

In the sitting room, she found him at the window, his arms clasped behind his back.

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