The Doxy and the Duke by Caroline Lee
Chapter 3
Suddenly,this house party wasn’t such a headache.
Up until now, Raina had spent a good portion of her days avoiding the society matrons the countess had invited to Fangfoss Manor, each determined to whisper malicious rumors about the Scottish slut and her bastard son. Raina had thus far managed to cry off attending the Friday evening dances Lady Fangfoss had arranged, so she didn’t have to dance with the stiff and boring duke everyone was all atwitter about.
Each of her friends had been forced to dance with the cold and imperious man, and each had said it had been a horrible experience. There were times when it was handy to use one’s ruined reputation to avoid social gatherings, and Raina had never appreciated that fact as much as she did now.
She still spent hours each day with her friends, but she didn’t have to dread the countess’s Mandatory Fun any longer, because she had something else to look forward to…and not just time with Ewan.
Weather permitting, Raina and her son still packed up their picnic supplies and walked to the river once a day, sometimes wearing bathing costumes, sometimes not. And sometimes they’d have an hour together before Cash and Matthew arrived, or sometimes the other pair didn’t come at all.
She realized her heart was pounding with anticipation each day, full of hope she might see him, and she had to chuckle over her disappointment if he didn’t arrive.
If he didn’t, then the following day, he’d appear with flowers or a treat and a heartfelt apology for having to attend to business instead of pleasure.
The subtle reminder of his importance was just that—subtle—and Raina found it easy to ignore. She assumed he was some local lord, happy for a distraction from his usual schedule, and she was happy to be said distraction. Particularly because he was so delightfully distracting her.
She hadn’t felt this attraction, this interest, in another man since…well, since the lesson she’d learned five years ago.
Oh, there’d been a few men here and there over the years whom she’d found attractive. But Ewan’s father had taught her all sorts of things at a young enough age when she could still confuse lust with love.
There was no confusion now. She lusted after Cash, and no mistake. The man was temptation itself on two very finely built legs, with some other intriguing body parts tacked on as well.
She’d felt most of them in the times they kissed.
And they’d kissed plenty.
Although, the more time she spent with him, the more she realized she enjoyed spending time with him for more than just his body and his glorious lips—his delicious, enticing lips. She liked hearing his opinion on things, and she liked the way he thought through each conundrum carefully before expressing said opinions.
There were a few times when Ewan and Matthew were getting into trouble, and she deliberately didn’t chastise them too quickly, just to see what Cash would do. And each time, she agreed with his decision.
She agreed with many things he did. He was obviously well-read and quite intelligent, although a stranger might not realize it, because he often had to be coaxed into discussions. One afternoon, the two of them and Matthew had a lively debate on the theme of Odysseus’s travels, which resulted in much laughter, while Ewan stomped about, pretending to be a cyclops.
By unspoken agreement, they didn’t discuss their lives outside of their spot under the oak tree by the river. He never asked how her days went after they parted, and she never asked what kind of business dealings had him frowning so heavily when he first arrived.
Instead, she would rest his head on her lap and rub his temples, smiling at the contented sounds he’d make as their sons swam and played together.
It was as though, there, it didn’t matter who they were, or what others thought of them. There, she was just Raina, and he was just Cash, and they were parents to two wonderful lads who loved being in one another’s company.
There, she didn’t have to worry about her reputation or what others might think of her. In fact, because he didn’t know who she was, she was free to be herself, and that included her flirtations with a handsome man.
Perhaps she should’ve learned her lesson with Ewan’s father and hidden that part of her for the rest of her life. After all, her youthful indiscretion had led to years of being shunned by the very people she sneered at. But it had also brought her Ewan, and honestly, it wasn’t as if she felt she was missing all that much to learn Society thought poorly of her.
Idiots, all of them.
Well, except her friends, of course.
Her friends, who were beginning to notice things were different with her after weeks of secretly meeting Cash and Matthew.
“You’re looking cheerful,” Angeline had teased her as they were preparing for one Wednesday afternoon’s Mandatory Fun. “This is the first time you’ve actually participated.”
“Aye, well…” Raina glanced toward the nearby window, where the rain was still pelting the panes. “I had nothing better to do.”
Her friends, who knew of her daily trips to the river, chuckled knowingly. Over the years, the six of them had shared so much—heartbreak, excitement, mourning, celebrating—and having them all together again was truly special.
But she hadn’t told them about Cash.
Well, she’d mentioned there was a man who sometimes met her at the river with his son—she couldn’t stop Ewan from speaking about Matthew, not with twelve yards of rope and a gag—but she hadn’t said much about him. Perhaps it was Cash’s secrecy, or perhaps it was the unspoken promise they seemed to have made to one another, but whatever it was, it seemed almost a betrayal to describe him or their time together.
But her friends knew, and often teased her about her good mood these days.
Of course, with it raining today—and yesterday, for that matter—it was almost impossible to be in a good mood. She hadn’t seen Cash or Matthew in four days, and she missed them.
Last night, she’d tossed and turned in frustration, wondering what he was doing, as the rain beat down upon Fangfoss Manor’s roof. First she was too hot, then too cold, and the blankets tangled about her legs. She wondered if he had the same trouble, and if he slept in the same ridiculous nightclothes she did.
In frustration, she sat up and tore her chemise off, relieved at the way the air caressed her body. Her hands had dropped to her breasts, imagining they were his hands on her skin, then lower. Her fingers had brought her relief, as they had many times before, but this time she had moaned his name.
“You’re doing it again,” hissed Olive as she hurried by with her arms full of costumes. “Staring at the window and smiling.”
Oh.
Was she?
Raina’s grin grew.
There was a tsking noise behind her, and she felt a hand on her shoulder pressing her into a chair. “Let me fix your hair,” Charity offered, tossing a man’s hat onto the table in front of Raina. “You never did care, did you?”
“No’ even a little bit,” Raina agreed cheerfully.
Well, that wasn’t true; there’d been a time once, before her pregnancy, before her decision, where she’d wanted to fit in. But once Society had made it clear what they thought of her, she saw no reasons to meet their standards, and now took joy in thumbing her nose at them.
Which was one of the reasons she’d agreed to do this afternoon’s performance.
“Twelfth Night is my favorite Shakespeare play,” confided Charity as her nimble fingers braided Raina’s hair close enough to her head that it could be hidden by a man’s hat. “And I cannot wait to see you as Viola.”
“Cesario,” corrected Raina, running her fingers lightly along the century-old breeches they’d found for her to wear up on the hastily constructed stage. “Viola is Cesario in any of the scenes with Olivia.”
Chuckling, Charity settled the tall hat upon Raina’s head and pinned it into place. “It’s the confusion which makes the play so much fun. Besides, you might tell the others you are only doing this because it is raining, but I know it is because you adore the chance to shock the matrons.” She pulled Raina to her feet with a smile. “And what could be more shocking than a lass in breeches?”
Raina made a show of stretching and examining her calves. “I do look stunning in them, do I no’?”
Her friend smacked her arse playfully. “You certainly do. Get out there and have fun!”
She and Angeline had prepared a series of scenes between Olivia and the cross-dressed Cesario. The first one, which was always one of Raina’s favorites, now had the audience laughing as Raina tried to convince haughty Angeline of her master Orsino’s love. Since Angeline—as Olivia—wasn’t interested in Orsino at all, her mocking and teasing was appropriate, and Raina played poor Cesario as a hopeless fool just trying to do “his” job.
“Most sweet lady—” she began, but Angeline interrupted, as if granting him points in her little notebook.
“A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it.” Her head snapped up, piercing Raina with a fierce glare above the veil she wore, as if she were one of the school mistresses they’d all dreaded years ago. “Where lies your text?” she snapped.
“In—in Orsino’s bosom,” Raina stammered, pretending to be cowed.
“In his bosom?” Her friend tapped her pencil impatiently against her paper. “In what chapter of his bosom, hmm?”
Pretending to rally, Raina acted as if she was parroting Orsino’s words. “To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.”
Angeline, as Olivia, waved dismissively. “I have read it. It is heresy.”
While the audience laughed, Raina reached imploringly for her friend. “Good madam, let me see your face.”
“Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate with my face? You are now out of your text!” Angeline snapped, but then seemed to relent. “But we will draw the curtain and show you the picture.”
She made a big deal out of removing her veil, and as she slowly presented her now-visible face to the audience, there were even greater peals of laughter. Instead of using makeup to artfully enhance Angeline’s natural beauty, Melanie had helped her cake on as many unnatural effects as possible; Angeline’s nose was now twice as long, and sported two warts with great, disgusting hairs protruding, and even some of her teeth had been blackened.
Her fiancé Rothbury’s shout of, “Oh, I say!” was drowned out by the rest of the company’s laughter, which started up again at Raina’s weak, “Excellently done, milady.”
The scene, of course, required Cesario to compliment Olivia’s beauty, while Olivia became more and more infatuated with “him.” With Angeline prancing about, playing with her false nose and plucking at her chin hairs, it was almost impossible to keep a straight face.
More than once, Raina had to turn “upstage” to hide her own laughter.
They got through a series of other scenes, with Olivia declaring her love for Cesario, and Raina trying to fend off the poor woman. The last scene was always Raina’s favorite, when Viola—still cross-dressed as Cesario—passionately explains why she can never love Olivia.
Angeline, as Olivia, of course, found it difficult to hear.
“Cesario!” She chased Raina around the stage, making hilarious groping motions. “By the roses of the spring, by maidhood, honor, truth and everything, I love thee so!” The laughter hid the rest of her line, but she ended up pinning Raina against a chair. “Reason thus with reason fetter: Love sought is good, but given unsought better!”
The script called for Raina to continue to reason with the love-struck Olivia, and they were planning on making it over-the-top comedic.
But for the first time, Olivia’s words struck something deep within her.
Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
Raina had always understood that to mean that love could sneak up on you, which was, of course, Olivia’s reason for telling Cesario. But suddenly, the image of Cash loomed in her mind, Cash’s smile when he watched his son, or the intensity of his blue eyes as he argued his point during their luncheon discussions. Cash, with his remarkable body, and even more remarkable mind, who was never far from hers these days.
Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
She hadn’t wanted to fall in love…but had she?
Damn and blast.
As the audience settled, Angeline’s expression softened to one of concern. “Raina?” she whispered.
Raina shook her head, remembering where she was. Although this was supposed to be a comedic scene, she kept her voice low and intense. “By innocence I swear, and by my youth.” She grasped Angeline’s upper arms, causing her friend to gasp in surprise—which fit the scene—as Raina lifted her bodily out of the way, still holding her gaze seriously. “I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, and that no woman has, nor never none shall be mistress of it, save I alone.”
Perhaps it was her delivery. Perhaps it was the fact that so many people in the audience knew of her history, and her determination to, indeed, be her own mistress.
Whatever the reason, the silence was broken by a single set of hands, clapping intently, then the applause built and swept across the room, and Raina heard her brother, Phin—nominally at the house party as her chaperone, but really there so she could introduce him to her friend Olive—call out, “Brava! Brava, lass!”
In front of her, Angeline beamed happily. As if recognizing their scene was done, she threw her arms around Raina, who allowed herself to be hugged, and even returned the embrace. Then they both turned to take their bows and accept their accolades.
And through it all, a voice whispered in Raina’s mind: Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
After the performance, she stopped by the nursery to check with Annie, Ewan’s nurse, on the lad’s studies and commiserate with the lad about the rain. She knew he missed Matthew as much as she missed Cash.
“That’s alright, Mama. Me and Matthew can still play even if it’s raining, ’cause we play inside too!"
She smiled and kissed him on his brow, loving his imagination. “Oh really, laddie? Where do ye play?”
“In our secret fort! I can’t tell ye where it is.”
Chuckling, she agreed that little boys should have their pretend forts, and wondered if the pair of them had built something near the bend in the river while she was preoccupied with Cash. She vowed to remember to look next time they were there.
To distract her son, she told him about the performance, even reenacting the funniest bits, and soon both he and Annie were laughing happily.
Feeling as if she’d helped distract her son from his boredom, Raina hurried to dress for dinner, deciding she didn’t care for the stares she received for still being in costume. Once in her room, however, she planted her palms on her dressing table and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
She’d never pass as a man—which was what had made the scene so humorous, most likely—but in this light, she looked a bit like Phineas. She was pleased he’d attended the party with her, and now that he’d finally had the chance to make a connection with Olive, Raina hoped wedding bells were in the future for two of her favorite people.
In fact, wedding bells seemed to be ringing throughout the house party. First, Clementine had become engaged to Lord Dorset—it was a pretend engagement, which turned out to be real—and then that terrible Lady Farrah had snagged Mr. Howard, thinking he was a duke or something. Angeline and her Rothbury weren’t too far behind, and now Olive and Phin were getting snuggly. And if Raina didn’t miss her guess, Charity and Lord Wilton—two such opposites she’d never seen!—were next. And while Melanie never did what was expected of her, Raina suspected she had something up her sleeve as well.
Yes, all of her friends were enjoying themselves at this party, and more than a few had certainly found love.
“No’ ye.”
It wasn’t until the image in the mirror blinked that Raina realized she’d said the words out loud. Scowling, she pulled the pins from her hair which allowed her to yank the hat off.
“No’ ye,” she repeated, holding her gaze in reflection. “Ye didnae come here to find love. Ye dinnae want to find love. Love is inconvenient and makes ye question yer choices.” The woman in the mirror—currently dressed as a man, of course—nodded firmly. “Remember that,” she cautioned.
Snorting softly at herself, Raina turned away and began to unbutton her waistcoat.
She was Ruined-with-a-capital-R, and she would do well to keep that in mind.
Though while there was a certain amount of freedom in being ruined, it wasn’t all easy. Certainly, she had the freedom now to engage in a casual liaison with a handsome father by the river, and perhaps even do more than flirting. But she couldn’t afford to think there’d be anything more between them. She couldn’t afford to dream of love.
Lust had brought her to where she was today, and as a result, she could indulge in a bit of lust every now and then.
But someone like her wouldn’t be allowed to love, even given unsought.