Read Online Eliza Lloyd by One Last Night - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: One Last Night
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ever marry and now that
the deed was done, he was having doubts about the sensibility of it. No one
would condemn her for taking a lover. Yes, they would gossip. However, she
would be ostracized for marrying so beneath her station.
John had also grown attached to Vincent who, in a few years,
would notice that his mother loved someone besides her son. He would then understand
their association was sexual.
And John, the bastard son of unknown origin, should not be
the one to take her title or cause her embarrassment if the truth of his
heritage became public.
Her wit, halfhearted but real, as it pertained to her title
was not easy to mistake. She loved him, but this was England and a title was
vitally important to a noblewoman’s future. He would not have her live in
obscurity.
They could not immigrate to America—their future was here,
as was Vincent’s.
John’s wealth was modest by any means but he had enough to
protect her.
That is why he would privately engage Alice Dupuis.
“Lucy, do you trust me?”
“I know all of your secrets and now that you are mine, I can
confidently say that I do. I am sorry I made you wait so long.” When she smiled
at him, it was enough to make him believe in miracles, but her loving gaze made
him believe the impossible. Maybe that is why he had been able to wait eight
years for her to notice him and three more before agreeing to be his wife.
“We did not need to marry. I am yours no matter the
circumstance.”
“You are the most patient man.”
“And now I need your patience.”
She went to her elbow beside him and stared down, placing
her hand on his chest.
“John, what is it?”
“I must go away for a few months.”
“A few months?” Her fingers tightened against his arm.
“After we return to England. I will write. You needn’t
worry.”
“I don’t understand. We are married now.”
“And it is this blessed event that requires your husband to
act. There are things I must do to protect our future…your future. And it is
best that I do not share the details at the moment.”
“No. I can’t let you go. Not now.”
He clutched her hand, entwining his fingers with hers.
“Nothing will keep me from you. And I will not allow my past
ever to taint you.”
When they returned to London, he submitted his resignation
after years of faithful service to the Wallingford Duchy. Lucy had to pretended
indifference that one of her servants was departing the household. The simple
act had grave consequences for them. Knowing her as he did, he knew he caused
her pain while she behaved with stoic grace.
Lucy was not there to say goodbye though the house servants
had all wished him well. He had left her early that morning while she cried in
her pillow.
In the few months that followed, he dutifully sent letters
to his beloved Lucy while he prepared for his entrance into London society.
Alice had delivered on her promise to provide letters of introduction from
London’s crème de la crème or, as she knew them, the most debauched nobles who
partook of the whorehouse’s services.
All of the letters introduced one Giangiordano Allaine de
Bracciano, Duca di Lazio. The name was a mouthful, the Italian language not so
difficult, but the history of the House of Orsini was a messy lineage that took
several weeks of study. Every other spare moment was spent further perfecting
his mannerisms.
The Orsinis didn’t know of his existence. Beyond this first
season and the whirlwind romance of the Duca di Lazio and the Duchess of Wallingford,
they would spend little time in London, so the risk of discovery was minimal.
He needed only the impact and the title. Afterward he would live his day-to-day
life as he always had, loving his wife.
He hoped Lucy would not faint at the sight of his facial
hair, though he thought he looked quite dashing with the mustache and goatee.
His wardrobe was designed and sewn by the best tailor in Rome. He’d never
looked like such a dandy.
John Allen
the deed was done, he was having doubts about the sensibility of it. No one
would condemn her for taking a lover. Yes, they would gossip. However, she
would be ostracized for marrying so beneath her station.
John had also grown attached to Vincent who, in a few years,
would notice that his mother loved someone besides her son. He would then understand
their association was sexual.
And John, the bastard son of unknown origin, should not be
the one to take her title or cause her embarrassment if the truth of his
heritage became public.
Her wit, halfhearted but real, as it pertained to her title
was not easy to mistake. She loved him, but this was England and a title was
vitally important to a noblewoman’s future. He would not have her live in
obscurity.
They could not immigrate to America—their future was here,
as was Vincent’s.
John’s wealth was modest by any means but he had enough to
protect her.
That is why he would privately engage Alice Dupuis.
“Lucy, do you trust me?”
“I know all of your secrets and now that you are mine, I can
confidently say that I do. I am sorry I made you wait so long.” When she smiled
at him, it was enough to make him believe in miracles, but her loving gaze made
him believe the impossible. Maybe that is why he had been able to wait eight
years for her to notice him and three more before agreeing to be his wife.
“We did not need to marry. I am yours no matter the
circumstance.”
“You are the most patient man.”
“And now I need your patience.”
She went to her elbow beside him and stared down, placing
her hand on his chest.
“John, what is it?”
“I must go away for a few months.”
“A few months?” Her fingers tightened against his arm.
“After we return to England. I will write. You needn’t
worry.”
“I don’t understand. We are married now.”
“And it is this blessed event that requires your husband to
act. There are things I must do to protect our future…your future. And it is
best that I do not share the details at the moment.”
“No. I can’t let you go. Not now.”
He clutched her hand, entwining his fingers with hers.
“Nothing will keep me from you. And I will not allow my past
ever to taint you.”
When they returned to London, he submitted his resignation
after years of faithful service to the Wallingford Duchy. Lucy had to pretended
indifference that one of her servants was departing the household. The simple
act had grave consequences for them. Knowing her as he did, he knew he caused
her pain while she behaved with stoic grace.
Lucy was not there to say goodbye though the house servants
had all wished him well. He had left her early that morning while she cried in
her pillow.
In the few months that followed, he dutifully sent letters
to his beloved Lucy while he prepared for his entrance into London society.
Alice had delivered on her promise to provide letters of introduction from
London’s crème de la crème or, as she knew them, the most debauched nobles who
partook of the whorehouse’s services.
All of the letters introduced one Giangiordano Allaine de
Bracciano, Duca di Lazio. The name was a mouthful, the Italian language not so
difficult, but the history of the House of Orsini was a messy lineage that took
several weeks of study. Every other spare moment was spent further perfecting
his mannerisms.
The Orsinis didn’t know of his existence. Beyond this first
season and the whirlwind romance of the Duca di Lazio and the Duchess of Wallingford,
they would spend little time in London, so the risk of discovery was minimal.
He needed only the impact and the title. Afterward he would live his day-to-day
life as he always had, loving his wife.
He hoped Lucy would not faint at the sight of his facial
hair, though he thought he looked quite dashing with the mustache and goatee.
His wardrobe was designed and sewn by the best tailor in Rome. He’d never
looked like such a dandy.
John Allen
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