“Yes.” Truth. “Would you like me to do it again, at some later date?” “Yes.” Truth. “Do you accept that there was no intention on my part to cause you pain, only give you pleasure?” “Oh yes.” She trembled in his arms. Truth. “Has Stanforth been here today?” Her shudder this time was one of revulsion rather than remembered pleasure. “Yes.” Lucien’s mouth thinned. “And?” “He demanded I not see you again, or he would make public my letters to him. He stood over me as I wrote that letter to you.” Her trembling intensified. “Did he, by God?” Lucien bit out grimly, deciding then and there that he would pay Stanforth a visit at his earliest convenience. Which would be the moment he left Rachel. She sniffled as she gave a nod. “He says I am undeserving of happiness when he has none.” Anger welled up inside Lucien. But it was a need for physical retribution toward Stanforth he intended keeping well away from a woman who had already known too much of it.
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