Chapter Four
T he sun’s early rays, streaming in through the slightly open drapes, stabbed William in the eyes with such force he shook his head and rolled over violently trying to escape the light—and ran right into Lucinda’s soft body nestled right up against his. The annoying sun instantly forgotten, William moved a tousled lock of hair that had fallen across her face so he could gaze at her unrestricted in the morning light. Their passionate night had drained him so completely, he’d fallen dead asleep after their third and final love making. Well, final for last night. That there would be a vast number of nights to come filled him with a joy he never expected to find.
After their first time, Lucinda had surprised him by taking the initiative and had been quite inventive for an innocent. If her imagination and creative bent continued apace in their bed in Rothwell, William would likely find himself this pleasantly exhausted each and every morning. He bent and pressed a quick kiss on her sleeping lips, then carefully rolled away and off the bed. First thing every morning nature called to him, even more urgently this morning after all the night’s activities.
He spied the chamber pot beneath the bed but was reluctant to use it. Lucinda might need it when she woke and he didn’t wish her to be discommoded by his copious morning stream. Better to nip down the steps and out to the privy. This early, it should certainly be vacant. Dressing hurriedly, as nature was beginning to call much more insistently, William pulled on his breeches and shirt, but elected not to bother with his boots. They’d make too much noise on the stairs anyway and he needed to be quiet.
Stealing down the steps, keeping an eye and ear out for everyone, William was stunned when he reached the first floor to find at least a half dozen gentlemen in repose—on various pieces of furniture, on the floor, sprawled across chairs. He and Lucinda had apparently missed one hell of a party, but he definitely preferred the private one they’d created on their own. Winding cautiously around the bodies, William made for the door at the rear of the room which gave out onto the back lawn and, at a distance, the privy. He made for the structure and pulled on the door only to be met with a gruff, “Occupied.”
Surprised that anyone but the servants would be stirring this early, William shook his head, then made instead for a stand of nearby shrubs. He could relieve himself here just as well, although he did feel rather exposed. He needed to sneak back into Lucinda’s room, finish dressing, then march downstairs and seek out her cousin and her husband, who he supposed was her official guardian and sheepishly ask for Lucinda’s hand in marriage. As he’d thoroughly ruined her, he’d wager her guardian would be amenable. How he was going to tell his own mother about this, however, he’d rather not think about at the moment.
An insistent knocking on the privy behind him brought William’s attention back to the present. He was almost finished, but it sounded like the privy was in great demand this morning. The gruff shout of “Occupied” was leveled at the new supplicant, who cursed, then positioned himself a little to the left of William. His neighbor let out a sigh, then the sound of a great stream gushing filled the quiet morning. William chuckled to himself. Men were all alike it seemed. His own needs finally met, he tucked himself back in his breeches, and turned to go just as the man beside him gave a great, “Ah” and turned away also, so the two of them met eye to eye.
It was like looking in a mirror—but there was no glass in front of William’s face. Only another man wearing his face.
The stranger stopped dead as well, staring at William with astonishment.
“Who the hell are you?” they asked in unison.
“William Fitzwilliam,” the man with the familiar face snarled. “What’s going on here? Who are you?”
William stood still, gazing at the man he’d been impersonating all night. Now he could see why everyone thought them to be the same man. Except, if you looked long enough, the differences were apparent. The pointed chin and wide mouth were virtually identical and their complexions were within one or two shades, Will’s being a bit darker. But their eyes and nose were very different, and though the color of their hair was the same, the man opposite him had very straight hair while William’s own was more than a little wavy. Still, unless they stood side by side, anyone saving their own parents could easily mistake one for the other. How often did something like this happen? And why had it happened to him?
“Don’t stand there like a jinglebrains. Are you going to tell me who the hell you are, or am I going to have to knock you into next week?” Will Fitzwilliam narrowed his eyes and raised his fist.
That was when William saw it—the dark, round mark on the inside of the man’s wrist. The same mark he carried. The one his father had carried before him. All the pieces fell neatly into place and William’s heart ached as though someone was squeezing it in a vice. Somehow, he found his voice. “I’m William Rothwell. Your brother.”
Will blinked, stunned of course. He lowered his fist, his face a study in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“My father was William Rothwell. Yesterday the tavernkeeper, Mr. Banks, mistook me for you and said the whole village knew I was the son of William Rothwell. But he was talking about you. You are also my father’s son.” William shook his head. “My father mentioned this village and his ledgers show he sent money here quite often.” He stared at Will, his heart aching with sadness for the betrayal of his mother. “I now suspect that business had to do with you and your mother.”
“He came around a lot when I was a young lad. Until I was maybe five or so. Then he just stopped.” Will’s face had hardened. “Did he tell you about me?”
“Not a word. I didn’t know until just now when I saw the mark on your wrist.” William pulled his sleeve up. “Just like this one.”
Will almost tore his shirt raking it up to reveal an almost identical brown circle. He stared at it as though he’d never seen it before.
“Our father had a like one on his arm. Like father like son.” William stared at his brother’s face, musing. “How old are you, Will?”
“I’ll be thirty come the spring.”
Thank the lord. At least his father hadn’t been unfaithful to his mother as William had feared. Some of the hurt retreated from his heart. Then he sighed as something else occurred to him. His father wasn’t the only one guilty of duplicity. This day was about to get even more unsettling.
“So if you didn’t know about me, how did you come to be in Twywell?” The belligerence was back in Will’s face. “Why were you at Lucinda’s party?”
“It’s a rather long story.” William began walking toward the house. They might as well make themselves comfortable while he explained how he’d now, in turn, betrayed his brother. “And it has to do with Lucinda.”
*
The harsh sound of knocking on her chamber door brought Lucinda out of a very pleasant, very naughty dream in which she and Will were making love on a garden swing.
“Lucinda!”
Her eyes popped open at the sound of her cousin’s voice and she frantically turned toward the side of the bed where Will had been when she’d drifted off to sleep in the wee hours of the morning. The bed, however, was empty. A fleeting sorrow was swept away by pure relief and she plopped back down on the pillows, thankful she wouldn’t be discovered. “Come in.”
The door opened and Adriana hurried to her bedside, her face full of concern. “Are you all right, Lucinda? Kitty told me about Will and your headache last night.” She sat on the bed and stroked Lucinda’s tousled hair. “I’m truly sorry he failed to live up to your hopes for him, my dear. But I do think it’s for the best. Now we can go to London where I’ll wager you’ll find the perfect gentleman for you.”
She’d have to tell Adriana the truth about Will, but that might best be done when Will was there to confirm that he’d already asked to marry her. “That does sound like a good plan, cousin.”
Adriana’s brows rose. “You seem to be taking your disappointment very well.”
Lucinda tried to affect a melancholy air. “I suppose I always had doubts about him. So this wasn’t much of a surprise.” She bit her cheek to keep from smiling. Everything about last night had been terribly surprising.
“At least you can now begin to look for a truly good gentleman to give your heart to.” Adriana rose and began picking up the clothing Lucinda had left on the floor last night.
Lucinda closed her eyes and stretched, sore but oh so pleased with Will and the night past. “You don’t have to do that, cousin. I’ll be rising shortly and can take care of it.”
“Like you took care of this last night?”
Lucinda opened her eyes to find Adriana standing over her, one of Will’s black Hessian boots in her hand. She gasped and pulled the covers overtop of her head. Oh, Lord, now there would be the dickens to pay.
“Lucinda!”
The covers were ripped off her and she tried desperately to shield her naked state from her cousin.
“Lucinda, what have you done?” Adriana was staring not at her, but at the center of the mattress.
Slowly, Lucinda turned her head to find a large dark red spot staining the sheets. She looked hopefully up at her cousin. “My courses?”
“Were over last week.” Adriana shook the boot at her. “And your courses wouldn’t explain this in any case.” She glared down at Lucinda. “You gave your maidenhead to that bounder Will Fitzwilliam, didn’t you?”
Still trying to shield her nakedness, Lucinda snatched the covers up over her. “Yes, I did. But it’s all right, Adriana.” She grasped her cousin’s hand. “He asked me to marry him.”
“Hah!” Adriana shook her off. “False promises are just one trick a rake can use to get what he wants.”
“I tell you, Will wasn’t like that. He made me promise to marry him.” Lucinda had had enough of her cousin’s accusations. “If we go find him, he’ll tell you himself. He must be downstairs. He wouldn’t leave without his boots.”
“Very well.” Adriana still looked angrier than Lucinda had ever seen her. She dropped the boot and turned to the door. “Dress yourself and meet me in the parlor. I’ll roust out the guests who spent the night and send Ralph to find Will.” She flounced out the door, pulling it closed with a loud bang .
Lord, what a hornet’s nest she and Will stirred up. Grumbling under her breath about Will and his boots, Lucinda washed quickly then donned a day gown, stockings, and slippers and hurried downstairs. The room where the party had been in full swing last night was now deserted. Remnants of the festivities lay scattered across the floor, awaiting Kitty’s attention. The disturbing silence led Lucinda to hurry toward the back of the house, to the small parlor where the family sat most evenings after dinner. The door was ajar and there was a murmur of voices coming from the room. Ralph had apparently found Will. So much the better. They could hear from Will’s lips that he’d asked her to marry him, which would make their anticipation of their wedding night much less scandalous. Throwing back her shoulders, Lucinda raised her chin and sailed into the parlor.
Adriana sat in her accustomed chair, fanning herself with her hand, her eyes wide. Ralph had stationed himself beside the fireplace, staring down at Will, who was sitting on the chaise beside—
Lucinda stopped so fast, she skidded on the polished parlor floor and almost fell over her accustomed chair. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at not one, but two Wills on the chaise longue. Legs suddenly weak, she gripped the chair arm and managed to fall onto it rather than sinking to the floor in amazement. Two Will Fitzwilliams stared at her across the pale-blue Turkish carpet. Two Wills ?
Ralph came forward and handed her a glass of wine. “It’s a bit early in the day, but I think you need this to steady you, my dear.”
Gratefully, Lucinda took it and sipped the sweet Madeira and her befuddled head cleared a little. Until she looked back at the identical faces. She drained the glass and wondered if Ralph would allow her another one. As her gaze returned to the silent pair of Wills, her breathing steadied and she began to compare the two faces, finding the subtle differences. Both faces were shaped the same, with the pointed chin and generous mouths, but the one on the left seemed more correct , more familiar.
The man on the right looked almost the same, until he smiled. Lucinda gasped. She knew that smile, that mouth so very well from last night’s passionate lovemaking. But now she was very sure it wasn’t the face she’d known most of her life.
“Who…what…” She had to take a breath and calm herself before she could produce a coherent thought. “Will,” she said, addressing herself to the man on the left, “what’s going on? Who…who is that man beside you?”
“He’s my brother, Lucinda.” Will sounded as knocked back as she felt. “William Rothwell.”
“Brother?” She peered at the Will to the right, who wouldn’t meet her gaze. “You’re Will’s brother?”
The man nodded. “I’m sorry, Lucinda.” He raised his head, genuine regret in his face. “Truly, I am.”
“And it was you…last night?” The sinking feeling in her stomach intensified until she feared she’d be wretchedly sick any moment.
Again, he nodded.
“But why?” Had he done it as a lark? Or merely to slake his desire? Or worst of all, had Will put him up to it to hurt her?
“I came to the village—a place I’ve never been before—quite by accident yesterday, only to find that everyone here seemed to know me. Eventually, I pieced it together that there was another man in town who looked like me, a man you wanted to dance with at your party.” The false Will sighed. “Everyone was encouraging me to go to the party, to at least dance with you, and it struck me that perhaps I should go.” He regarded her quietly with those deep-blue eyes she’d lost herself in time and time again last night. “I’d heard Will here was a rake, and I thought you should have the attentions of an honorable gentleman instead.”
“An honorable gentleman doesn’t take a woman to bed with her thinking he’s someone else,” Ralph spoke up for the first time, the brooding look on his face severe. “Are you willing to be honorable, Mr. Rothwell, and marry Lucinda after you’ve ruined her?”
“Yes.” Mr. Rothwell spoke up eagerly.
“No!” Lucinda shouted at the same time. “I don’t want to marry you .” She glared at the stranger. “I don’t know you at all and you lied to me. How could I ever trust you?” She turned to Will, pleading. “I want to marry you, Will.”
For the first time, he looked sheepishly at her. “Lucinda, you don’t want to marry me.”
“But, I—”
“I’m not a marrying man, my dear.” He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “We’ve known each other for a long time and you’ve grown into a lovely woman. One I would eagerly dally with,” he glanced up at Ralph and grinned, “if I didn’t think your guardian would draw and quarter me.”
“But you came to my party.” Why would he do that if he wasn’t interested in her?
“Ralph and Adriana set a fine table, and I knew the wine and ale would be plentiful.” He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I attend such an entertainment? Had I seen you there, I would have wished you a happy birthday, but nothing more.”
Lucinda sat back, stunned and more hurt than ever before. He truly had no interest in her. Adriana had been right all along. It wasn’t fair. She looked from one man to the other, so alike yet so vastly different. The one she wanted, didn’t want her and the one who wanted to marry her, she didn’t know and didn’t want to know. Or did she?
“Lucinda, you’ve been ruined, child.” Ralph’s voice wasn’t harsh, but matter of fact. “You need to marry one of them. And one has done the honorable thing and offered for you.”
Stricken, Lucinda looked from one handsome face to the other. The sting of Will’s words were still fresh, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe he didn’t want her. Could she try once more?
“Will you allow me one request?” She looked from Ralph, who nodded, to the two men before her. Looking Will straight in the eyes she said, “Kiss me.”
His brows flew up, then a knowing smile spread across his face. “Why not?”
Lucinda rose, bringing both men to their feet. She stepped in front of Will, smiled her prettiest and lifted her lips toward him.
With a chuckle, he lowered his mouth to hers and for the first time in her life, he kissed her. His touch was soft, sensual, and somehow…practiced. It was as though this was the way he’d kissed a hundred women before her. He didn’t try the seam of her mouth, as the other Will had eagerly done. In fact, he didn’t seem particularly interested in the kiss at all.
At last, he stepped back, a smirk rather than a smile on his face. “Is that all you’d hoped for, my dear?”
More than disappointed, Lucinda shook her head. “It wasn’t what I expected, no.”
“May I try, Lucinda?” Mr. Rothwell stepped toward her, that same eagerness from last night obvious in every part of his body.
Lucinda almost shook her head no, then the image of them together, entwined in the sheets made her swallow hard and her heart beat faster. Nodding, she stepped in front of Mr. Rothwell, a faint sense of anticipation buzzing through her as he came closer and cupped her cheeks.
The moment he touched her, Lucinda began to tremble. By the time his lips met hers, her blood was on fire, licking through her veins like an inferno. The moment their mouths met, she opened her lips as though compelled to do so, and his tongue slid into her, so warm and welcome. As he plundered here and there, she slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, wanting more than anything for them to be alone once more as they had been in the night. Every place he touched her, her body burned for him.
When at last he broke the kiss, she had to make herself release him and stepped back to find Adriana, Ralph, and Will all staring at them, mouths open in disbelief at their display.
Ralph was the first one to recover. “Lucinda, I can only think that was your way of saying ‘yes’ to Mr. Rothwell’s proposal.” He looked at Mr. Rothwell. “I believe we have settlements to confer over, sir.” He looked him up and down. “Perhaps when you are more formally attired?”
Mr. Rothwell looked down at his dishabille and sheepishly nodded. Then he looked at Lucinda, who blushed. “Are you sure you agree to my proposal, Lucin—” He stopped himself. “Miss…?”
“Harcourt,” she said, her cheeks heating to a boiling point. He hadn’t even known her last name. “But you should call me Lucinda.” She grinned up at him. “We are going to be married.”
“Then you do accept me?” The joy in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Yes, I do.” She’d never before experienced that fiery passion with anyone. She certainly wouldn’t have it with Will and now truly didn’t wish it. And who knew? The passion she felt for Mr. Rothwell might very well turn to love with time. “But what should I call you?”
He grinned and her stomach flipped. “Husband very soon.” He drew her into his arms once more. “But for now, William will do just fine.”
The End