Page 20 of Rake in Disguise (Wicked Widows’ League #33)

Chapter Eighteen

Despite her best intention to look forward and be content, Blythe had not slept well. There were too many memories and too many emotions, once long buried, that filled her mind and heart and she spent a good portion of the night tossing in her bed.

Maybe that was what she had needed—to put everything into perspective, which Blythe had somehow managed to do.

What she and Orlando may have shared long ago no longer existed and the fluttering in her heart when she first saw him was a leftover remnant from the past.

She was just as certain that she would not suffer the same again. She had seen him. He was well. They spoke. The past had been settled.

At least that was what she kept repeating to herself as she dressed for the day, breakfasted with Elizabeth, who thankfully made no further mention of Orlando, and traveled to Covent Garden to visit the various flower vendors.

Tonight, Athena’s Salon would be open again, and she must be present to manage if Bethany, now the Duchess of Claybrook, did not make an appearance.

In fact, it was likely that Blythe might not ever see Orlando again and yesterday had just been odd luck. Afterall, she’d lived in London for nearly three years and hadn’t seen him so there was no reason to believe that she would encounter him again.

“These lilies will look lovely in the front sitting room, do you not think?” Elizabeth asked as she held a bouquet out to Blythe to examine.

She barely looked at them. “Yes, they will.”

“Here, you carry them while I look for flowers to decorate the parlor.”

Blythe took the flowers and followed her friend, not seeing much and not really interested in which bouquets Elizabeth chose for Matron Manor.

Though, perhaps she should bring flowers into Athena’s Salon. They occasionally filled vases but had not done so this year.

Yes, they needed flowers for the various vases and with that in mind, she looked over the options to decide which would suit the rooms best when she just happened to glance over at a building, not far away and on a side street.

It wasn’t that the building was all that interesting, but the woman with disheveled hair and wearing a light dressing gown on the front step was what originally drew her attention.

While such attire should be confined to a sleeping chamber, or at least within the privacy of a home, that was not what bothered Blythe.

It was the fact that Orlando was the one who just stepped from the house.

While he appeared put to right, that did not mean that he had been earlier.

“Ah, so Dr. Valentine is not without female companionship,” Elizabeth whispered in her ear.

Blythe had nearly jumped because she had not even been aware that Elizabeth was beside her.

“It appears that you are correct,” Blythe responded as the barely clothed woman reached out a hand to Orlando.

“Well, not a permanent one,” Elizabeth corrected.

“So, you suppose that woman is simply a friend and not mistress,” Blythe asked. She certainly appeared to be a mistress.

“Oh, she is not a mistress.”

“How can you even know. She appears as if she just rose from her bed.”

“Because that building houses Madame Devine’s, a brothel.”

Well, it was good to know that some things had not changed in that Orlando still preferred lightskirts to respectable women.

Elizabeth snorted. “I did not think you would be one to suffer from jealousy over a man who by your description was only a friend.”

“I am not jealous,” Blythe argued.

“Then it must be that you are being judgmental for I can think of no other reason why the color would be so high in your cheeks.”

“It is neither.” Blythe whipped around, put her back to Orlando, began inspecting the roses in the buckets beside her while she ignored Elizabeth’s chuckle.

If he would but visit her, Orlando would not need to seek release in a brothel.

Blythe gasped and placed a hand over her mouth and hoped that those words were uttered silently.

As her face heated, she looked around at those who were near, but they paid her no mind at all.

Surely if she had said something so scandalous they would be watching her.

Would she welcome him if he came to her? Would she want to be his lover?

“Yes.” She would.

“What did you say?” Elizabeth asked.

Blythe blinked at her friend.

“You said, ‘yes’.”

“Yes, in that these are the ones for the entry at Athena’s Salon.” As to prove her point and not encourage further questions from Elizabeth, she gathered a bouquet of tulips and wrapped them in paper so that she could pay for her purchases.

Perhaps she was a wicked widow after all.

She would be happy to take Orlando to her bed, if he would but have her.

Except, it had been so long, Blythe wasn’t even certain she remembered what to do and Orlando seemed to prefer the most experienced women.

It was foolish.

She did not need a lover and even if she decided to take one, it would not be a man who enjoyed prostitutes. She’d heard enough talk on the Continent that men rarely avoided certain diseases from such encounters and she certainly didn’t want to catch anything unpleasant from Orlando.

Which was truly a shame because she had no doubt that he would make an excellent lover.

* * *

Orlando was dragging his feet as he crossed the square in Covent Garden. He’d not slept the night before and was not certain when he would find his bed today but hoped that it was soon.

His intention was to purchase some fruit from a vendor and then walk to the office that he shared with Dr. Xavier Sinclair where he knew patients could be waiting. After that, he would make his way upstairs and fall into bed.

Except, those intentions were altered as soon as he neared the flower vendors and saw Blythe, her arms filled with pink tulips, wandering the stalls.

This was a sign, even though he did not believe in such things, and this opportunity to speak with her would not be squandered, especially since they were in an open market and not among the ton who would wonder about their connection.

With those thoughts, he marched directly to the end of the row that she was walking and waited and watched as she stopped to peruse the flowers, his patience well settled because he was able to watch and take in her gentle smile, the soft curve of her cheek, the delicate midnight curls that had escaped her chignon and the purse of her lips as she contemplating making a purchase.

By the time she neared him, Orlando was more determined than ever to claim her.

She did belong to him.

“Lady Blythe,” he greeted as she turned from the last stall and faced him. Her blue eyes grew and she nearly stumbled back.

“I hope that I did not surprise you.”

“I did not expect to see you here.”

“I thought to purchase fruit,” he answered. “Are the flowers for your home?”

“Athena’s Salon,” she answered then sniffed.

Whatever surprise may have been on his side was now extinguished and Blythe stared at him as if waiting for him to say something and then she would be on her way.

“It was good to see you last evening.”

She nodded. “Unexpected but I am glad to see you are well.”

She spoke as if they’d only had occasional conversations, nearly strangers when they’d shared so much more.

“I would like to call on you.”

Her dark eyebrows drew together over the bridge of her nose. “To what purpose?”

Orlando had hoped that she would want to become reacquainted as much as him. Could he have been so wrong?

“I have missed you.”

The corner of her mouth tipped as an eyebrow marched. “Truly?”

Why didn’t she believe him? Orlando could swear that they had been more to each other.

“Yes,” he answered. “I have thought of you often and wondered what became of you.”

“I returned home. My husband was dead. There was no reason to remain.”

A knife to his heart would not have hurt as badly. Had he meant absolutely nothing to her? He thought they had a deep friendship if nothing else.

“Besides, I find it difficult that you have spared any thought of me.”

“Why would you say so?”

She smirked. “Because you have not changed.”

Orlando tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Exactly what are you implying?

“That you are still the rake disguised as a doctor.”

“I certainly am not, nor have I ever been.”

“I just noticed you leave Madam Devine’s, just as I often saw you leave the tents of the camp followers and lightskirts. For a man who spends so much time with women who are free with their affections, I find it difficult that you would remember me at all.”

“You truly think so little of me?” Orlando demanded.

“It is not a judgment, Orlando, simply an observation that you are no different than any other bachelor who embrace a rakish lifestyle.”

Her smile was sweet but not teasing. More of a matter of fact. “It has been good to see you again, Orlando, but now I must go.”

Before he could stop her, Blythe walked away and made her way to a waiting carriage.

Bloody hell! That had not gone well at all.

He also hadn’t thought she was so judgmental.

How did she even know that he’d just left a brothel?

He then saw Lady Andover cross to the same carriage; she turned, lifted her hand and waved her fingers.

Though he did not know her at all, Orlando would wager that it was Lady Andover who had informed Blythe where he had been if the mischief in the woman’s eyes was any indication.

Well, Blythe may have just set him aside but he was not yet finished with her.