Impassioned by Darcy Burke

Chapter 4

As Sabrina and Lucien stepped outside, she looked askance at him. “My maid is in the coach. I should bring her to Mrs. Renshaw’s.” He’d already explained that Mrs. Renshaw lived just a short walk away on the other side of St. James Square.

Lucien inclined his head. “I’ll direct the coach to meet you there.”

While he went to converse with the driver, Sabrina reached for the door to the coach, but the groom beat her to it. Smiling, she thanked him, then explained to Charity that they would be walking to their next destination.

“We’re just going to the other side of the square,” Sabrina explained as Charity joined her on the pavement. As Charity glanced toward where Lucien was speaking with the driver, Sabrina added, “That is his lordship’s brother, Lord Lucien. He’s helping me with, er, a surprise.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. “Remember, Charity, no gossip.”

“Not a word, my lady.” The maid shook her head solemnly even as her tawny eyes glimmered with excitement, as if she were thrilled to be included in something.

Lucien joined them and offered his arm to Sabrina who introduced him to Charity.

“My sister works in a house on Charles Street,” she said.

He glanced toward Charity. “That is where we are going, actually.”

Sabrina suddenly recalled that Charity had said her sister worked for Mrs. Renshaw. “My goodness, Charity, we are going to your sister’s employer’s house.” She glanced toward Lucien. “I’d forgotten that. Her sister is Mrs. Renshaw’s lady’s maid.”

Lucien’s brows climbed as he looked to Charity. “You must be the other Miss Taylor. I arranged for your position in my brother’s home. He was in need of an upstairs maid, and you were in need of employment—and now look at you, promoted to lady’s maid.” He winked at her, and Charity’s round cheeks turned bright pink.

“I can’t thank you enough, my lord.” She dipped a curtsey, her bonneted head bobbing as she looked toward the ground.

“It is my pleasure to help whomever I can,” Lucien said smoothly. “Now, let us be on our way.” He led Sabrina toward the square, and Charity followed behind them.

“Does Aldington know you did that?” Sabrina asked. “I can’t imagine he has anything to do with the hiring of servants or that he’s even aware when his household needs a new upstairs maid.”

“He does not. As with most men of his station, he leaves that sort of thing to their butlers. I have a network of people who contribute to my cause.”

“Haddock is part of that network?” she asked in surprise.

Lucien winked at her. “Don’t tell anyone.”

She tipped her head to the side and peered up at him. “What is your cause?”

“Helping people with whatever they require. Everyone deserves to have comfort and security and even to have their dreams come true.”

“Is that what you do?” Sabrina found herself smiling. She couldn’t imagine two brothers who were more different. “Fulfill people’s dreams?”

“I don’t know that I achieve that, but I do help where I can. Just as I’m going to help you.” They reached the other side of the square and started along Charles Street. At the second house, he stopped and pivoted. “Here we are.”

They continued up to the door where a rather young, and frankly attractive, man opened the door. Was he the butler?

“Good morning, Foster,” Lucien said cheerily. “We’re here to speak with Mrs. Renshaw.”

Foster opened the door wide. “Come in, my lord. I’ll take you up to the drawing room and fetch Mrs. Renshaw.”

The house was similar to Lucien’s in that it was a small terrace, but it had a distinctly feminine air with the paintings of flowers adorning the walls. They followed the butler into the stair hall and up to the first floor. Situated at the front of the house, the drawing room was most definitely decorated by a woman, with peach and ivory floral wallpaper and an array of furnishings in those colors in addition to russet and a pretty blue that was just a shade darker than Wedgwood. Sabrina had never been in a more stunningly appointed drawing room, and she knew immediately that she would wear whatever Mrs. Renshaw recommended.

A few moments later, their hostess swept into the drawing room. “What a lovely surprise!” Her gaze immediately landed on Charity, who smiled broadly at Mrs. Renshaw’s warm welcome. “Charity, your sister would love to see you. If you go back downstairs, Foster will direct you to the kitchen. That is where you’ll find Delilah presently.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Charity curtsied, then looked to Sabrina who nodded.

She’d no sooner left the room than Mrs. Renshaw approached Sabrina. “You must be Lady Aldington.”

Sabrina clasped her hands, nervous as usual when meeting someone. “I am.”

Lucien stepped closer as if he sensed her discomfort. “She’s here to make your acquaintance and obtain some assistance that you are perfectly suited to provide.” He gave Sabrina an encouraging smile which helped ease her trepidation.

Mrs. Renshaw possessed the most intriguing eyes Sabrina had ever seen. The color of lapis lazuli, they were rounded but turned up on the outside corner, almost like a cat. With her sculpted cheekbones and plump lips, she was a model of beauty Sabrina could never achieve with her too-pale skin and too-sharp chin. Her mother had always said her coppery blonde hair was her best feature, but Sabrina found herself envying the rich russet hues of Mrs. Renshaw’s. Perhaps because there seemed to be some gold and red intertwined with the dark locks, as if she’d been kissed by the sun—which carried over to her skin, for it held far more color and vibrancy than Sabrina’s.

One of Mrs. Renshaw’s dark brows arched as she glanced toward Lucien, making her eyes look even more captivating. “Indeed? I am eager to help however I may. Shall we sit?” She flashed a smile at Sabrina as she indicated a seating area with a settee and two chairs near the windows that overlooked Charles Street below.

Sabrina had to blink and stop focusing on Mrs. Renshaw’s attractiveness. Comparing herself to other women was a bad habit she would blame on her mother, for she had constantly done that during Sabrina’s one and only Season two years ago.

“I’m not going to stay. You don’t need my intrusion,” Lucien said with a smile. He directed his dark gaze at Sabrina. “Tell her exactly what you require and don’t withhold a thing. Evie will know exactly what to do.” He winked toward Mrs. Renshaw.

Mrs. Renshaw’s lips curved up. “I can already tell this is going to be a delightful association.”

After bowing to them, Lucien took his leave. Sabrina went to the settee and managed to sit despite the anxiety teeming through her. It had been difficult enough to find the courage to seek out her brother-in-law, and now she had to do it all over again with a complete stranger. A beautiful stranger, who was gazing at her with kindness and compassion.

Suddenly it was all too much.

Sabrina’s throat constricted and tears welled.

Mrs. Renshaw had sat in a chair opposite Sabrina, but now she leapt up and joined Sabrina on the settee. Putting her arm around Sabrina’s shoulders, she gave her a squeeze. “Cry, scream, rail, do whatever you must,” she said softly but with an edge of steely determination that was perhaps more soothing than anything else she was doing.

“I don’t really want to do any of those things,” Sabrina managed as she wiped at her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Horror rose in her chest. How had she exposed herself so easily—and readily—to a complete stranger?

Mrs. Renshaw patted her back. “There’s no shame, and whatever you say or do here will be kept completely confidential. How can I help?”

A comfort Sabrina rarely experienced settled over her. Mrs. Renshaw had put her immediately at ease with her kindness and authenticity. She had to be the first person Sabrina had met who’d done so. Taking a breath to quell her remaining nerves, she repeated what she’d told Lucien about needing a wardrobe and invitations.

“Lucien was correct in saying that I’d be delighted to assist with your wardrobe. We will begin immediately this afternoon.” She smiled brightly at Sabrina, her eyes dancing. “We are going to have such fun.”

A weight lifted from Sabrina and was replaced with a burgeoning excitement. For the first time since she’d conjured this far-fetched scheme to come to London and reinvent herself, she felt as though it was actually possible. “Thank you. I’m doing this to gain my husband’s attention. I’ve come to London to get with child.” The inevitable heat rose in her cheeks.

“I see. Is your marriage as estranged as Society thinks it to be?”

Hearing Mrs. Renshaw say what Sabrina had suspected was rumored about them stung, but she was not surprised. “Yes. We rarely spend any time together.”

“Do you mind telling me about it? Your marriage, I mean.”

Sabrina wasn’t sure where to begin. The story of their marriage started well before the ceremony. “We met during my first Season, but I felt as if we were already acquainted.”

“You struck an immediate accord?” she asked with a smile.

“No. I was terrified when I met him. Though my parents had spoken of him for over a year, he was still a stranger.” And Sabrina didn’t like strangers—until today. “They’d already communicated with Aldington’s father—the duke—about a potential marriage. It was all but arranged by the time I came out.”

“I didn’t realize that.” Mrs. Renshaw took her arm from Sabrina and angled herself toward her on the settee. Sabrina did the same so that they were facing each other. “Were you in favor of marrying him?”

“Not particularly,” Sabrina whispered. She’d never admitted that to anyone outside her immediately family. Why would she when they’d reacted so poorly? Her father had threatened to send her to a nunnery if she didn’t wed Aldington. “He is the heir to a dukedom!” her father had raged. “I was not given a choice in the matter.”

Mrs. Renshaw’s answering grimace was tinged with sympathy. “Women seldom are, particularly young ladies being used to further a family’s social position.”

“He was not in favor of the marriage either.”

“How unfortunate for you both. I can imagine things did not progress well after you married.”

“Not at all. We barely knew each other, and I was content for things to remain that way—at least until I grew more comfortable with him.”

“And did you?”

Sabrina shook her head. “That’s difficult to achieve when you are scarcely together. I spend most of my time at Hampton Lodge, a place I have been fortunate to call home and in which I find comfort. But it’s lonely.” Her throat burned to say the word. She was lonely. She longed for a connection, a family. “Aldington only visits twice each year, and when I came to London last Season, we rarely attended events together. He is always busy at Westminster or with the business of it. And as I said, I didn’t mind because I was still growing accustomed to being a countess.”

“Are you now?” Mrs. Renshaw asked. “Used to being a countess.”

Sabrina pressed her lips together in frustration. “Only at Hampton Lodge. Here in London, I still feel like I’m an imposter.”

“You are not. You are a countess, so let us make sure you act like one. That is what you want?”

“It is. Along with a child. That is what I want the most,” she added softly.

“Forgive my candor, does your estrangement extend to the bedchamber?”

Despite an edge of discomfort, Sabrina was surprised to find she wanted to share this with someone, and Mrs. Renshaw seemed to genuinely care. “That is where we are least suited.” Sabrina clasped her hands once more, squeezing them together as she worked up the nerve to tell her everything—she felt in her bones that this woman could help her, that this woman was a friend. “He rarely comes to my bed and when he does, it’s dark and quick, and utterly unremarkable. I understand that is how it’s supposed to be, but neither one of us wants to endure the ordeal.”

Mrs. Renshaw leaned her shoulder against the settee. “Oh dear. You think it’s an ordeal?”

“That is what my mother always called it.” Sabrina mimicked her mother’s higher tone. “You must suffer the Ordeal whenever your husband insists upon it, my dear.”

Staring at her wide-eyed, Mrs. Renshaw murmured, “How dreadful. And you say Aldington is uninterested?”

Sabrina unclasped her hands and flattened them against her lap. “He seems to loathe the prospect and can’t get through the event fast enough. I don’t think he finds me desirable. When I demanded my marital rights last night, he used an excuse to avoid coming to my chamber.”

“What is wrong with your husband?”

“We are simply not well suited.”

Mrs. Renshaw pressed her lips together. “It doesn’t sound as if you can know for sure. When you’ve shared a bed with Aldington, has he found pleasure in the act?”

Sabrina tried to think of his behavior, but it was difficult. She was typically too engrossed in her own anxiety to pay attention to how he felt. But then her anxiety was partially due to his dispassion for her. “He doesn’t seem to.”

“Does he orgasm?”

Sabrina blinked at her. “Does he what?”

“Orgasm. Come. Find his release.”

“Oh, yes, he releases his seed.”

“Men generally find pleasure when that occurs, to varying degrees. I’m assuming you don’t realize there is a feminine version of that where you feel pleasure?”

Frowning, Sabrina tried to understand. “I don’t have any seed to spill.”

“No, but you can still find pleasure—astonishing pleasure—and any good husband will ensure you do. I’ve half a mind to knock some sense into Aldington.” Her brows knitted angrily as the muscles in her jaw clenched.

“Can that still happen if their wife is shaking in fear?” Or if the husband has no desire for the act?

Mrs. Renshaw grimaced. “Perhaps not. In that instance, he may just do what he must in order to get things over with. This is a conundrum.”

“Why? Is pleasure necessary to have a child?” Perhaps that was why she hadn’t conceived.

“Sadly, no, but it’s better, is it not? Otherwise, it’s just a dull and terrible duty.”

Yes, that was precisely what it was.

Mrs. Renshaw straightened. “You only need to show your husband that you are no longer afraid, that you welcome his advances—that you desire him.”

Did she though? Sabrina had always found him attractive. She recalled the sensation that had stolen through her when she’d smelled his scent the night before. Was that akin to desire? “I’m not sure I know what that feels like,” she whispered, hating to admit it but somehow knowing this woman wouldn’t shame her.

Mrs. Renshaw’s gaze shone with understanding and warmth. “Oh, Lady Aldington, we shall ensure that you do.”

“Please, call me Sabrina. This is such an intimate conversation.” Again, her cheeks flamed. “Surely only friends can speak in this manner.”

Smiling, Mrs. Renshaw nodded in agreement. “Just so. You must call me Evie.”

“Assuming I can feel desire for him, what will I do if he is still reluctant? What if he doesn’t desire me in return?”

“I’m willing to bet that he will. However, his behavior is puzzling. There could be any number of reasons for his reluctance, including your fear.” She pressed her palm to her jawline and glanced away. When she pulled her focus back to Sabrina, she returned her hand to her lap. “There is one possibility regarding his reluctance, and if that’s the case, there is not much that can be done about it, I’m afraid.”

“This doesn’t sound good. What is it?”

“Perhaps Lord Aldington prefers a male partner in bed.”

Sabrina clapped her hand over her mouth. “I hadn’t considered that.” And likely wouldn’t have if she lived five hundred years. How she loathed her naïveté. “I believe he has a mistress. Perhaps it’s not a woman.”

“It’s more common than you realize.” Evie said this with a certainty that made Sabrina incredibly curious. Despite that, she couldn’t bring herself to ask how Evie knew. Perhaps when they became closer friends, she might summon the nerve. “How do you know about his mistress?”

“I asked if he had one and he immediately denied it. Too immediately to be believed. You can confirm it?”

Evie shook her head. “This is the first I’ve heard—there are no rumors that he has a mistress. Aldington is an extremely private person. Does it concern you?”

Sabrina leaned back. “Not particularly. I know men like him usually have mistresses. Given the state of our marriage, I think I’d be more surprised if he didn’t have one. However, if it’s a man, I’m not at all sure how to proceed.”

Perhaps she would have to do what she’d brazenly—and without thought—threatened the night before: have a child without him. The thought of that only filled her with more anxiety, which she absolutely did not need. She considered retreating to Hampton Lodge to perhaps hide under a blanket.

No, the old Sabrina would do that. New Sabrina wasn’t going to sit by and let life happen to her. “What can I do to feel less apprehensive?”

“It doesn’t sound as if you know each other at all,” Evie said.

“We don’t,” Sabrina whispered, feeling as though she faced an insurmountable obstacle.

“Perhaps that should be your primary objective before you can get to the pleasurable creating of a child. Get to know him and make him get to know you. Then, you’ll seduce him. Assuming he doesn’t prefer men and can be seduced by you, are you up to the challenge?”

“Of seduction?” Sabrina feared she’d ended the word on a squeak. “I suppose I shall have to bluntly ask if he is aroused by men or women.” The thought of doing so made her feel as if she were riding a runaway horse, but she worked to rein in her nerves. “I think I must. The time for prevarication and avoidance is past. I am on a mission.”

Evie laughed and reached over to briefly clasp Sabrina’s hand. “You aren’t at all what you think, at least not what I’ve seen today. You possess a steel inside you, Sabrina. I hope you realize that. I also hope you never forget it,” she added with a soft smile.

Sabrina hadn’t realized that, and of everything Evie had said today, it might be the thing that stuck in her mind the longest. She’d certainly be thinking about it for some time—whether it was actually true and how she could learn to use that steel.

“Let us discuss the fun part of this, shall we?” Evie’s gaze held a mischievous sparkle. “In order to conduct a successful seduction, you should experience an orgasm—or several.”

“How do I do that before seducing him?” Sabrina feared her naïveté was once again rearing its head.

“By pleasuring yourself.”

Sabrina gaped at her. “How on earth would I do that?”

“You’ll have an orgasm,” Evie explained. “What I was telling you about before. You don’t need a man to give you one. You can do all this by touching yourself—your breasts, your sex, whatever feels good.”

Sabrina brushed her hand over her forehead. “Please forgive my ignorance. It’s quite maddening, if I’m to be honest. Why would I touch my breasts?”

Evie exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Aldington has never touched your breasts.”

“Why would he?”

“Because it feels lovely.” Evie resituated herself on the settee, turning even more toward Sabrina and bringing her thigh slightly onto the cushion in the process. “You definitely need to have an orgasm—or three—before you attempt seduction. Tonight, I want you to touch yourself until you find release. It will take some effort, but I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Sabrina didn’t understand any of this. “How do I do this?”

“I’m going to explain, and I’m going to give you a book from my library. It has drawings and descriptions.” Evie gave her a wicked smile. “They will, hopefully, arouse you.”

“Oh.” Sabrina remained skeptical.

“Trust me. You are going to be amazed at what you have been missing. And when you learn to find and experience pleasure you will wield a power that will give you a singular confidence when dealing with your husband. When he comes to your bed, you will know what you want and what to ask him for. Rather, what to demand from him.”

Sabrina put her fingers to her lips, imagining this power and using it to demand…pleasure from Aldington. It almost seemed impossible, but she’d already demanded he visit her bed. This would be easy after that, wouldn’t it?

Evie abruptly rose. “I’m going to fetch the book so we can have a nice, in-depth discussion. I’ll also have Foster bring sherry—you’ll thank me for it. Then, after we have finished your education, we’ll go shopping.” Eyes glowing with enthusiasm, she took herself from the drawing room, leaving Sabrina to stare after her in wonder and perhaps a bit of mental paralysis.

This was not at all what she’d imagined when she’d gone to Lucien for help. She’d never considered all that she was missing. How could she? It seemed, however, this was precisely what she needed.

She only hoped she was up to the challenge of seduction, especially in the face of a man who didn’t want to be seduced.