He cupped her face, tipped her head up. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know.”
“But that’s just it, Denys. You told me you loved me, but you didn’t. You were infatuated with an illusion, something I created, a fantasy. It wasn’t me.”
“At first, perhaps.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “But I knew the first time we ever made love that what you did on stage was pure fiction.”
“How did you know?”
He smiled. “Because until I showed you, you had no idea that a man could make you come with his mouth.”
She blushed, her pale skin flooding with color from her face down to her throat and across her shoulders, down to the white sheet she was holding over her breasts. “Oh.”
She was silent a moment, taking that in, then she said, “Your father knows about the senator.”
“What?”
She nodded. “He came to my dressing room before the show last night and told me. Evidently, he’s had Pinkerton men investigating me since I came back to London. He also told me he sold his half of the Imperial.”
“Yes, I know about the Imperial. He sold it to the Earl of Barringer. They signed the papers yesterday.”
“You know? But if you haven’t seen your father, how did you find out?”
“I stayed at White’s last night, and Barringer was there when I arrived. He told me the news. It wasn’t really a surprise that my father would take that step.”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Denys.”
“Don’t be sorry on my account. And Barringer’s not a bad chap. He won’t approve of you, mind, for he’s quite a stuffed shirt, but he can’t out you.”
“Forget about the Earl of Barringer. Denys . . .” She paused and gave a deep sigh. “I’ve quit the play. I’m leaving London, as soon as my maid has made the arrangements with Cook’s.”
Any step forward might have just been obliterated. He took a deep breath. “Why?”
“Denys, I told you, your father knows about my days in burlesque, about Robert, the senator . . . everything.”
“I suppose he threw it in your face?” As he spoke, he felt a flash of anger, and he worked to force it down, reminding himself that no matter what happened today, he and the old man were headed for a reckoning. It was inevitable. “None of that matters, Lola. Not to me. Not at all.”
“I wasn’t the first girl Robert had used to put through a deal,” she said as if she hadn’t heard him. “He did it all the time, I found out afterward. I was just too infatuated to see what he was.” She waved a hand impatiently. “I was a fool. The point is, your father assumed I had taken the senator up on his offer. If he tells anyone the story—”
Denys shook his head. “He won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because he knows full well you could become his daughter-in-law, and he’s not about to let that sort of story get about.”
“But I’m not going to be his daughter-in-law, and we both know it, and so does he—and damn it, Denys, why are you smiling?”
“Because I’m glad.”
“Glad?” She stared at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head. “Glad about what, for heaven’s sake?”
“I’m glad you told me about all this. You’ve spiked the old boy’s guns. Now, when he tells me all about your oh-so-sordid past, I shall take great delight in informing him that I already know all about it. But first, is there anything you haven’t told me? Any other chaps out there I need to know about? Any other men you’ve coshed on the head, or run off with to New York?”
“No, Denys,” she said meekly, but he knew she wasn’t going to meekly march into a church with him. Her next words proved it. “Will you please stop ignoring the vital point? Robert thought that I was something to be used, something to be passed around and ultimately tossed aside, like so much trash. In a less crude sort of way, your people think the same about me. They think I’m trash.”
“But I don’t think you’re trash. Do you think you are?”
“No, and we both know I don’t much care what other people think of me, but to your family, to the society you want me to live in, I will always be trash. Marrying you won’t change their opinion of me.”
“I’m not at all sure about that, but even if you’re right, do you really think your alternative is any better?” he asked her. “Another name, another ticket out of town, another fresh start . . . what’s the point? How long and how far can you run from yourself?”
Her face twisted. “What else is there for a girl like me and a man like you?”
Abruptly, he rolled off the bed. “I have presented you with an alternative,” he said as he began to dress. “Twice now, as a matter of fact. But you don’t seem to fancy it.”
“Because it isn’t a viable alternative.”
“Yes, it is. It’s just not a perfect one, wrapped up with a ribbon and a bow.”
“You think I care about that? Denys, here in England, marriage is permanent, until death do us part. My mother was able to change her mind, get her marriage annulled. But here, it’s different. Your sort gets married, there’s no hushing it up.”
“True.” He donned his shirt and tucked it into his trousers, then he reached for his socks and pulled them on.
“Marrying me would be forever. No way you could annul it later, even given my notorious past.”
“That is also true.” He slipped on his shoes and glanced around. “Where the devil is my collar?”
“Your father has already sold the Imperial. He’ll do more than that if you marry me. He’ll disinherit you.”
“Ah,” he said, spying his collar at the foot of the bed. He scooped it up, along with his cuff links, collar studs, and necktie, then he moved to stand in front of the mirror above her dressing table and continued to dress.
“What if he does, Denys?” she asked after a few moments.
He paused in the act of tying his tie and met her gaze in the mirror, pretending not to understand her question. “Worried I can’t support you?”
“That’s not it. I could support us if it came to it.”
“I’d prefer that you didn’t. The ton rather frowns on that sort of thing.” He finished tying his tie and began fastening his collar studs. “Is that your real concern? Giving up acting? Because if it is, feel free to keep doing it. I shan’t care.”
“That’s not it either!” she cried. “I love acting, I do, but if I married you, of course I’d have to give it up. I may not know much about viscountesses, but I’m fully aware they can’t be actresses, too!”
He smiled to himself, noting the shift in her words, the use of the word “if.” Another step forward, he thought, pleased and also a bit relieved she might be willing to give up the stage at some point. He was proud of what she’d accomplished for herself, especially last night, and if she wanted to continue to act, he’d support her decision, but though he was willing to fight that particular battle with the ton on her behalf, he couldn’t say he’d relish the prospect. There would be plenty of other battles for them to fight as it was. “Then what is the problem?” he asked, turning toward her. “I love you. You say you love me. Are you really refusing me because you’re afraid society won’t accept us?”