Chapter Twenty #2
“You won’t,” she promised, her arms tightening around him. “Lockwood underestimated us both. I’ve already spoken with Rockwell and Farah. They’re gathering information to use against him.”
Lucien drew back, surprise evident on his face. “You went to Rockwell?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t come to you. Lockwood said if I did, he’d reveal all.
I suspect he has men watching this house and yours.
I hope you weren’t followed here. Yesterday, after Lockwood left, I knew I couldn’t face this alone.
Rockwell is contacting everyone who might have information about Lockwood’s finances, his secrets—anything we could use to counter his threats. ”
“So, you weren’t just surrendering to his demands,” Lucien realized, relief washing through him.
“Of course not,” she said firmly. “I was buying time. At Lady Fenchurch’s ball tomorrow night, I’m supposed to tell Lockwood I’ll accept his proposal, but that I need a few days to break my engagement with you ‘discreetly’.”
A fierce pride filled Lucien’s chest. “You’re remarkable, do you know that?”
She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I would have done anything to protect Ava-Marie from scandal. She’s an innocent in all this.”
“You love her that much?” he asked, wonder in his voice.
“How could I not?” Courtney said simply. “She’s so full of life, so curious and kind. She’s a miniature you.”
Lucien’s heart swelled with an emotion too powerful to name. This woman—this extraordinary woman—had not only accepted his past, his mistakes, but had taken his daughter into her heart as well.
“I learned something else tonight,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Mrs. Bellamy told me about a woman named Kitty who knew Ava in Dublin. She’s the one who told Lockwood about Ava’s past. I intend to find her tomorrow.”
“Is that wise?” Courtney asked, concern evident in her voice. “Lockwood could be watching you—watching us.”
“It’s necessary,” Lucien insisted. “We need to understand exactly what Lockwood knows—and what he might not know. Kitty might be persuaded to help us, especially since Lockwood apparently intends to cheat her and Mrs. Bellamy of their ‘share’ of your dowry.”
Courtney’s face hardened. “He truly is despicable.”
“Yes,” Lucien agreed, his voice cold. “And he will pay for threatening you. For threatening my daughter.”
“Please don’t do anything stupid.” She stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on his chest. “We will face him together,” she said firmly. “No more secrets between us, no more lonely battles. Whatever comes, we face it as one.”
The conviction in her voice, the strength in her gaze, overwhelmed him.
For so long, he had carried his burdens alone—the loss of his memory, the discovery of Ava’s deception, the despair of carrying his family’s financial situation, the fear for his daughter’s future.
Now, here was Courtney, offering not just her love but her partnership, her unwavering support.
“What would I do without you?” he whispered again, his hand coming up to cradle her face. “But I am profoundly grateful for you.”
“Lucien,” she said softly, her amber eyes luminous in the lamplight, “I can’t lose you again. When I thought you had died in Ireland, it nearly destroyed me. I won’t let Lockwood or anyone else take you from me a second time.”
The raw emotion in her voice stripped away his last defenses. He lowered his head and claimed her lips in a kiss that held all the words he couldn’t yet say—his gratitude, his admiration, his growing feelings that might someday match the love she so freely offered.
She responded with equal fervor, her arms sliding around his neck, drawing him closer. What began as comfort quickly blazed into desire, the tension and fear of recent days finding release in passionate connection.
His hands tangled in her loose hair, while hers worked at the buttons of his coat, pushing it from his shoulders. They moved as if by mutual agreement toward her bed, shedding layers of clothing as they went.
“Stay with me tonight,” she whispered against his lips. “I need to feel you close to me.”
“Are you certain?” he asked, his voice rough with desire but his eyes searching hers for any hesitation.
“More certain than I’ve ever been,” she replied, her fingers tracing the contours of his face. “We’ve lost so much time already, Lucien. I don’t want to waste another moment.”
Her nightdress fell to the floor, leaving her gloriously bare before him. The sight of her stole his breath—her creamy skin illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes dark with desire for him.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, running reverent hands down her sides. “So beautiful it hurts to look at you.”
She smiled at that, her hands working at the fastenings of his shirt. “Then don’t just look,” she suggested, her voice a gentle tease despite the heat in her gaze.
They fell onto the bed together, hands exploring, lips seeking, bodies teaching each other anew. He worshipped every inch of her, marveling at her responsiveness, at the soft sounds she made when he found a particularly sensitive spot.
When he finally joined with her, it was with a sense of coming home—a belonging so profound, it caught in his throat. They moved together in perfect harmony, building toward a shared release that left them both trembling and breathless.
Afterward, as she lay in his arms, her head resting on his chest, he felt a peace he hadn’t known since leaving Ireland.
Whatever Lockwood planned, whatever challenges they might face, he was no longer alone.
Courtney was his partner in this fight, his equal in every way. And most of all, he trusted her.
“I will stop him,” Lucien promised, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We will stop him. And then we’ll build the life we should have had before Ireland. Before Ava. Before everything.”
She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes serious despite her smile. “Not before everything, Lucien. I wouldn’t erase Ava-Marie from our story, not for anything.”
His heart constricted with emotion. “Nor would I. She is the one pure gift to come from all of this.”
“Then we’ll build a new life,” she said, settling back against his chest. “Not the one we planned before, but one that includes her, that honors all we’ve been through, all we’ve learned.”
As sleep began to claim them both, Lucien held Courtney close, his mind still turning over plans for confronting Lockwood.
But the desperation that had driven him through London’s midnight streets had eased.
In its place was a cool determination, strengthened by Courtney’s love and his own newfound clarity.
Whatever happened tomorrow at Lady Fenchurch’s ball, one thing was certain: Baron Lockwood had made the gravest mistake of his life in threatening what Lucien held most dear. And he would soon discover just how formidable an opponent Lucien Furoe could be.
*
Courtney woke alone in the early dawn light. She rolled over and ran her hand over the bed where Lucien had slept. His sandalwood scent lingered on her sheets and on the pillows. She breathed in deeply and gave a contented sigh, almost like a purr.
They had agreed to a plan for the ball tonight.
She would start an argument with Lucien and storm off.
She would tell Lockwood the engagement was off, but that he still had to convince her father to allow the marriage.
She would tell him it would not be easy, as Tarquin also would object.
Her brother did not like Lockwood. That would buy them time.
She’d wanted to go with Lucien to talk with Kitty, but they couldn’t risk being seen together. Still, Lucien agreed to take the Duke of Blackstone with him.
She stretched, loving the feel of her nakedness and remembering the pleasure from last night. She should ring for her lady’s maid and organize a bath, but she wanted to luxuriate in bed with her memories and joy for a while longer.
On a low groan, she rose and pulled the bell for her maid.
Once dressed, she made her way to the drawing room, having asked Graves to send for her brother. She’d best inform Tarquin what was going on. He might even be able to help Lucien deal with Lockwood, too.
She’d just poured herself a cup of tea and taken a seat in the sun coming through the large terrace door windows, when Graves entered. “Your brother and your father are not at home at present, my lady. They are at Tattersalls.”
“Of course. I forgot they were attending the horse auction today. The minute my brother returns, can you ask him to please attend me?”
“As you wish. Also, Lady Ashley is below. Should I send her up?”
Rockwell’s sister, Ashley, was here? That couldn’t be a coincidence. “Of course, Graves. And bring some more tea.”
Courtney set her teacup down as Ashley swept into the drawing room, her forest green walking dress immaculate despite the light drizzle outside.
Ashley’s usual composed demeanor seemed slightly rattled this morning, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright with what Courtney recognized as curiosity mixed with scandal.
“My dear Courtney,” Ashley said, hastily removing her gloves as Graves withdrew from the room. “I hope I’m not disturbing you at this early hour.”
“Not at all,” Courtney replied, gesturing for her friend to join her by the window. “I’m delighted for the company. Father and Julian are at Tattersalls for the horse auction today.”
Ashley settled into the chair opposite, a knowing gleam in her eye. “I suspected as much. Most of the gentlemen seemed to be heading that direction when I was on my way here.” She leaned forward. “But that’s not why I’ve come at this unseemly hour.”
Courtney poured her friend a cup of tea. “I gathered as much from your expression. You look like a cat that’s found the cream.”