I can do so respectably.”
He let out an irritated huff and scowled at her. “You will pay for this once we are wed, and I won’t care who witnesses it. How’s that for scandalous?”
Leaning over him for a kiss, she graced him with the most radiant smile. “Clearly, you are shamming it. You’d never want anyone to witness the things you do to me.”
“Hmm, you make a good point. Very well, I’ll do my best to be respectable when others are watching. But behind closed doors, prepare for me to debauch you as often and thoroughly as possible. What do you say to that?”
Right before their lips met, she murmured, “I say, do your worst, Mr. Burke.”
Epilogue
Benedict stared unseeingly across his secret office in the rear of Madame Hershaw’s dress shop, toying with the letter opener on his desk. Fatigue held him in its clutches after the events of a trying couple of weeks. No, it had been a trying couple of years, and in that time so much had changed.
Hugh, Aubrey, Nick … all of them married and going on to live new lives. Everyone else in Benedict’s live had left him behind. Why should he expect his friends to stay?
He glanced at David, who sat in the chair facing his desk, watching Benedict with concern wrinkling his brow. They’d met to discuss a new contract, as a short-lived affair had just been ended by David’s keeper. However, once the other man had arrived, neither of them launched into the reason for their meeting. Silence had descended over the room and, uncharacteristically, David didn’t seem to be in a hurry to fill it.
Nick had left London only a few days after disrupting Calliope’s nuptials, carrying her off to Scotland for a hasty elopement before they were set to journey to his new estate, after which they would honeymoon in Paris. Aubrey and Lucinda had left for their own wedding trip, and Benedict didn’t expect to see them again for months. Nick and Calliope would likely stay away much longer, giving the gossip about them time to die down. Hugh was busier than ever these days, taking on clients and working on portraits in the hours he wasn’t spending with his wife—who had just revealed that she was with child.
“Well,” Ben said at last. “Looks like it’s just you and I from here on out.”
David frowned. “You don’t really think that, do you? Aubrey will return before you know it, and Nick won’t stay away from London forever. Hugh becoming a father won’t—”
“It changes everything, all of it. Can’t you see that? I am happy for them—really, I am. But, you cannot expect them to piss around with us like they used to now that they’re husbands and fathers.”
“It won’t be like old times,” David replied with a shrug. “But they won’t abandon us. I think you’re taking this all far too personally.”
“Am I? Need I remind you that we are a liability to them now? They have families to protect, and their proximity to us puts the people they love in danger. Would you associate with us if there were any chance your wife or child might be affected by the inevitable scandal once we are found out?”
“We won’t be found out. You said it yourself … the London Gossip knows nothing of any substance.”
Benedict closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath as he decided to finally lay his burden at someone else’s feet. He’d prefer it to be Aubrey, but his best friend wasn’t here. This was Benedict’s problem to solve, and since David was the only one of the original courtesans left other than himself, it had become his problem too.
“I may have been a bit hasty in my estimation.”
He opened his eyes to find David leaning forward in his chair, dread clear in his expression. “What do you mean?”
Benedict stood, striding toward the hearth and resting his arm against the mantel. “I’ve … met her.”
“You’ve known who she was all this time and didn’t tell us?”
“No, it wasn’t like that. I’ve encountered her, but don’t know who she is. She wore a veiled hat and was escorted by a couple of massive thugs who managed to incapacitate me. Only because they caught me off guard, you should know.”
David was on his feet now, nervous fingers scraping through his hair as he began pacing. “When did this happen?”
“Weeks ago. I wanted to tell you all, but there was the rather diverting problem of all the weddings