Catherine Gayle
Of Love and Lust
ONE
Envy had never been high on Judith Lipscombe’s list of priorities. It was a rather ugly sensation, all things considered. Yet as she watched Lord and Lady Quinton from across the parlor at Quinton Abby, this blasted envy was yet again making its presence very much known in her heart-much as it did every time she was in their presence.
Her husband of four years, Piers, Viscount Lipscombe, had never looked at her the way Lord Quinton looked at Aurora on a regular basis-he even looked on her that way now, while Aurora was near to bursting with child. Piers had never looked at her like he was hungry for her, like a man dying of a thirst which only she could quench.
On the contrary, her husband most frequently looked at her as one might look at a still life painting of a fruit bowl, as something that was simply present in his life. Bored and indifferent.
Even now, Lord Quinton’s blue eyes held a devilishly randy twinkle as he talked to his wife, leading her ever-so-deviously away from their guests.
Piers, on the other hand, was far too busy at the whist table with the elderly Lord Rotheby to take notice that Judith was even in the room. She could stand up before the entire gathered crowd and dance a Scottish reel clad in only her drawers and shift, and he’d likely do nothing more than lift a brow and return to his cards.
Judith had been watching the Quintons for more than a year now, and Aurora still glowed like a blushing bride every day. She wondered what their secret was-how they kept the spark in their marriage. Granted, she and Piers had never had a spark to begin with, so perhaps there was no secret she could learn to use.
When Lady Coulter bustled over and took the seat next to her on the sofa, Judith forced a smile and nodded. It wouldn’t do to let anyone notice her mood. She took a sip from her after-dinner sherry to avoid having to fabricate something to say to Lord Quinton’s mother.
“ I tend to watch them rather frequently, myself,” Lady Coulter said. She inclined her head in the direction of the Quintons and winked at Judith. “They are so delightfully in love, aren’t they? And they still have a healthy dose of lust, as well, I should say. Which is only fitting. Any marriage needs a fair share of lust. Why, Quin looks ready to bend Aurora over a table and tup her at the first opportunity that presents itself.”
Judith choked on her sherry.
“ Oh, dear,” Lady Coulter said, patting Judith on the back. “Put your arms up. It’ll help.”
It took a few moments to get her coughing fit under control. “I’m so sorry,” Judith said once she could breathe again. Her eyes still stung with tears brought on by her surprise.
“ Not at all.” Lady Coulter leaned her head closer, dropping her voice. “I should apologize to you. I fear I shocked you with my candor. I just assumed it was obvious, so why bother beating about the bush?”
“ Indeed,” Judith murmured, trying to keep her eyes in her head where they belonged.
Lady Coulter winked at her. “I’m sure you and Lord Lipscombe know plenty about all of that though, don’t you? The younger generations all have such vigor. It’s lovely to see.”
She kept talking for several minutes, never pausing even long enough for Judith to agree with any of her observations. Thank goodness. What should she say, after all? Heavens, I wouldn’t know the first thing about any of that, since my husband rarely comes to my bed more than once or twice a month, fulfills his responsibility, and then leaves without a backward glance. Or if not that, then perhaps she could just lie.
Then again, Judith had never been very good at fibbing.
It wasn’t that she and Piers didn’t love each other-far from it, actually. Judith had been in love with her husband since she’d first met him, it seemed, and he said he loved her as well. She believed him, too. He wouldn’t tell her an untruth. Piers would never lie to a living soul for any reason. He was far too good and honorable a man for that.
There just had never been anything more than love. She had thought it normal, at least until last summer. Then she had first seen the thrilling connection between Aurora and Lord Quinton, and she had realized something was very definitely missing in her own life.
After quite some time of rambling, Lady Coulter reached over and took Judith’s hand in her own. “I’m boring you to tears, aren’t I? Augustus is always telling me I ought to go out and talk to the trees, because they’d care more what I have to say than most people would. I imagine he’s right.”
“ Not at all,” Judith stammered. “I’m just a bit preoccupied, it seems.” Preoccupied with wallowing in self pity and being envious of the woman’s son’s wife. Not something she was overly inclined to admit to at the moment.
Piers extricated himself from the whist table and made his way over to her, his stunning form outlined in the flickering glow of candlelight. “I believe I’m going to turn in for the night, dear.” The deep velvet of his voice rolled over her and settled in her core.
He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, just as he did every night. The faintest hint of stubble grazed her skin and she shivered. His rich, brown eyes held no trace of the need so transparent in Lord Quinton’s gaze. Her heart dropped just a bit further than it already had, and she chastised herself for hoping for something that did not exist.
He smiled-his usual warm smile, nothing heated or seductive or even remotely extravagant. “Good night, my love.”
“ Oh, but I’m sure Lady Lipscombe would like you to escort her up to bed as well,” Lady Coulter said, smiling suggestively at Judith. “You young couples have better things to do than to sit with me.”
A furious blush raced to Judith’s cheeks when Piers raised an amused brow. That only seemed to encourage Lady Coulter more. The older woman nudged her with an elbow, and Judith shot to her feet like a cannon had gone off in the next room.
Piers gave her a quizzical look-one filled with something else she couldn’t quite place. Intrigue? No, perhaps it was more fascination. “I didn’t realize you would wish to retire so early. You so often keep later hours than I do.” He took her hand and placed it on his arm. “Good evening to you then, Lady Coulter.”
Judith fought to stop blushing as Piers led her through the parlor and into the grand hall. Every eye followed them. None of the other guests had retired for the evening yet. Their departure was entirely too conspicuous. Surely everyone must be thinking…must be thinking what?
That a husband and wife were off to do what husbands and wives do. That was all.
Except Judith and Piers weren’t. He would never dream of coming to her bed when they were away from their home. It just wouldn’t be proper, and Piers Lipscombe was nothing if not proper.
When they reached the grand stairwell leading up to the cloisters where their suite of rooms was located, Piers leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Lady Coulter believes I’m rushing you off to make love to you.”
The heat of his breath on her cheek left her staggering for air. Judith’s heart tripped into a new, wild beat. “Yes,” she said. She didn’t trust herself to say more.
His arm moved behind her until his hand rested on the small of her back. He slowed and then stopped at the top of the stairs. Judith turned to him, an unasked question hanging in the air between them.
His light brown hair glimmered in the light of sconces lining the walls. Piers pulled her closer to him, his large hand drawing her in to his heat. The light sandalwood scent that forever followed him wafted over her and left her reeling. “Is that what you want?” he asked. With his other hand, he lifted one of her mahogany curls from her shoulder and tucked it behind her ear. The gentle touch scorched her.
Her pulse quickened at the expression in his eyes. It was penetrating and visceral, and so very different from how he’d ever looked at her before. So very like Lord Quinton always looked at Aurora. So very like Judith had dreamed of but never thought she’d experience.
Again, she said, “Yes,” so softly she feared he couldn’t have heard it.
