Eloisa James - Duchess by Night (25 page)

BOOK: Eloisa James - Duchess by Night
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Harriet turned toward Jem, at the same moment that his hand came down on her leg. She froze. Of course, Nel couldnt see. No one could. He had hooked the tablecloth over his arm.

His fingersthose fingersher skin was instantly on fire. He was smiling at Isidore as he slid his fingers up, toward the crotch of her breeches.

Harry! Nel hissed.

Harriet cleared her throat. Jem finished his sentence and turned toward her. My dear Mr. Cope, he said. I truly apologize for not greeting you.

Harriet inclined her head. Its a pleasure to have you join us, Lord Strange.

I always chase pleasure whenever I can, he said care lessly. Now tel me, Mr. Cope, what is your given name?

Harriet narrowed her eyes.

Your first name? he prompted. Only the most hidebound of friends address each other in formalities.

I wanted to introduce you to the author of that poetry that has so intrigued and delighted you, she said, ignoring his question.

Ah, Miss Gale. What a surprise this is.

Nel , she said, dimpling at him. I certainly hope it was not an unpleasant surprise.

Not in the least, he said, giving her one of his most charming smiles. I dont suppose that you know Mr. Copes given name, do you? Hes far too stuffy to share it with al us.

Nel had a little frown that indicated she wasnt very interested in his question. Its Harry, she said.

Harry! Oh no, no, no, Jem said.

Why not? Harriet asked with an edge of unfriendliness. Its a perfectly good name.

It has no moral tone, Jem announced. None at al . You couldnt be a judge with that name. Nor a bishop either. It would even be difficult for a parish priest. Now if you cal ed yourself Harold, which likely is your true name, it would al be different.

He paused but Harriet wasnt going to encourage his sil iness and kept silent. Nel leaned forward so that her bodice gaped open and said, How would it be different, Lord Strange?

Please, he said, you must cal me Jem.

Harriet thought uncharitably that Nel appeared on the edge of a joyful apoplexy.

Now if young Harry here would adopt his true name, Harold, he would quickly find a high moral tone was issuing from his mouth on al subjects. He could publish his remarks in Gentlemans Magazine , for example. They tel the most awful lies about women.

Such as? Harriet asked.

Apparently some dissolute women have begun shaking hands, Jem said.

Goodness, Nel said. Ive been guilty of that myself.

We dont approve, do we, Harold? Jem asked.

My name is Harry, not Harold! Harriet snapped. And I think Miss Nel should shake hands with whomever she pleases.

One never knows where those hands might have been, Jem said, inching his fingers an inch higher.

She should stop him. She should, except the most delicious languor was creeping over her.

Earlier, after a bath, she had decided the whole episode that afternoon was like some sort of lovely dream, as unrepeatable as it was unacceptable.

But now her body was sending her signals that it would be happy to repeat every moment of it.

I shant ever shake hands again, Nel said. What else do they say in that magazine, Jem?

She breathed his name as if they were already in bed together. It rol ed off her tongue with visions of bridal finery and wedding nights, Harriet thought sourly.

The author is practical y virulent on the subject of women, Jem said. Imagine. He says that women are carrying pistols.

Mrs. Grandison put one in her knotting bag and it went off and shot a great hole in her drawing room carpet, Nel said. So that is true as wel .

This one must be an exaggeration. The author actual y claims that some women have given up the sidesaddle for riding astride andwho could believe this?are wearing breeches.

Breeches look dreadful y uncomfortable, Nel said. I think that claim is rather unlikely, dont you, Harry?

Harryor Harrietcouldnt think al that wel , as Jems thumb had taken up a rhythm that was making her feel rather faint. I agree, she managed.

But breeches are so convenient, Jem cood. He was obviously enjoying himself hugely. A womans costume is impossible, what with her panniers, her petticoats, her stays

Nel was giggling madly again. How wel you know us! she shril ed.

Jem leaned across Harry toward Nel , which al owed him to rub even harder. Harriet gasped and jumped in her seat.

Dont al ow me to bother you, Cope, Jem said. I just want to make a point to Nel . Why do you suppose that women wear al that clothing?

To be attractive, Nel said promptly. She cast a quick look down at her gown in a manner that suggested she felt that she looked very attractive indeed.

But think how attractive theyd be if they merely wore breeches. Just think how a mans eyes would be able to feast on their limbs, on the curve of theirIm not shocking you, am I, Nel ?

Hardly. Nel s eyes were fixed on him the way a baby chick looks at its mother. It was Harriet who could feel herself turning pinker and pinker.

Youl have to forgive me, she said, scrambling backward and standing up. Jems hand fel away. Her knees felt a bit weak.

Are you done eating? Jem asked.

Absolutely, she said. Absolutely finished. She was babbling, and tried to pul herself together. What I mean to say is that I shal accompany the Duchess of Cosway back to London tomorrow, so I should probably supervise the packing of my clothing.

Jem looked at her quickly, and she realized shed forgotten to tel him.

Nel scrambled into the chair that she had vacated. Oh dear Harry, she cooed, smiling at Harriet. I wish you a wonderful trip.

Yes, indeed, Jem said, his eyes rather unfriendly.

Im sure wel see you here again, Nel said, taking on the role of the mistress of the manor.

Indeed, Jem said, and he turned back to Nel with a smile.

Chapter Twenty-five

The Intoxicating Air of Fonthill

H arriet walked up the stairs thinking about three people she had to say farewel to: Eugenia, Vil iers, and Jem. It was astonishing how differently she felt about Vil iers than a mere month ago, when she hated him with a vengeance. Last year she had talked Jemma into shaming him at chess; she had spent hours wishing he would die of a loathsome disease. She was intent on revenge.

And now

Now he was the only person in the world other than herself who had apparently loved Benjamin. And she didnt hate him anymore.

She walked into his room and was happy to find him clothed and sitting up rather than lying down. She walked over and threw herself into the armchair opposite him and stretched out her legs.

Nicely done, he said, eyeing her. There is a certain lanky freedom about your legs that certainly bespeaks the male. How is it with the young woman who woos you?

Unfortunately, I had to disclose a sad fact to her.

That you had no equipment to pleasure her with?

Precisely.

Did she tel everyone youre a woman?

In fact, she thinks Im a eunuch.

His smile was delighted. A eunuch! How in the bloody hel did you supposedly come to that sorry state?

We left it vague, Harriet said, grinning back at him. An accident or some such.

Some such! Most men spend a good part of their waking hours making sure that no such accident comes near their privates.

She wept for me.

Slayer of a young ladys heart, Vil iers said with satisfaction. Ive loosed a monster on Stranges household.

She didnt appear at supper at al , Harriet reported.

Pining in her room, unable to eat.

I doubt that, Harriet said, picturing Kittys abundant flesh. But she may have taken consolation elsewhere.

Any other exciting events? he enquired.

Do you remember that I was wooing Lord Strange on behalf of Nel ?

With poetry?

Exactly. I introduced her as the author of the said poetry and left them together at the table.

It wil come to nothing. Strange never dabbles, Vil iers said. Now I am a dabbler. It took me a few years to understand that though he surrounds himself with beautiful women who could certainly be labeled loose , he never takes advantage.

How odd, Harriet said.

He was wild to a fault after coming down from Oxford, Vil iers said. We were there together and I had some adventures of my own, but nothing like Jem. He was in a fair way to getting the title of the worst rakehel yet to grace London; he belonged to every one of the various clubs that delighted in women.

Were you also a member of those clubs? Harriet asked curiously.

Im a chess man, Vil iers said, shrugging. I find an unadorned array of female breasts tiresome, if youl forgive my bluntness.

Im sure I would feel the same about the more interesting parts of males. Although, she added, I might gawk for a few nights first.

He snorted. You surprise me. Did you show this side of yourself to Benjamin?

Do you think it would have interested him?

He was silent. No. He must have been a dreadful spouse, now I think it over. Do you suppose I shal be as bad?

I have no idea.

I do wish to marry someday, Vil iers said. And foolish though it may seem, I would like it to be a happy marriage. So please, give me some advice.

Dont ever recount a chess game to a woman when youre in bed together, no matter how splendidly you performed.

My goal in bed is always splendid performance, Vil iers murmured.

Harriet rol ed her eyes. Pretend that chess is not your lifes breath and blood, the reason for living She broke off. It wont work, you know. Perhaps you could find someone like Jemma, someone who likes chess too. Then the two of you could sit together and mumble, Bishop to Kings Four, when youre too old for other activities.

I tried to fascinate Jemma, he said. But then I found an odd qualm in me about Beaumont, since we were old friends. The end of my sorry tale is that I heroical y re fused Jemmas advances, then changed my mind and found myself wounded by her brother before I had a chance to impress her with my charms. I intend to make another foray when I am completely wel .

Shel probably enjoy a recital of chess moves, Harriet said. But if you wish to marryand I believe that is what you saidyou need someone else. Jemma is surprisingly married, more so al the time. But I came to tel you that we leave tomorrow morning.

Isidore has discovered she is not nearly as prone to dissolute behavior as she believed.

That is true of many ladies, Vil iers observed. Whereas you, on the other hand, look to have happily settled into life as a rake.

Its lovely, Harriet admitted. I loathe panniers, powder, wigs, and al the rest of it. I havent been so happy in years.

Vil iers narrowed his eyes. Theres something different about you he sat up. I believe you have succumbed to the intoxicating air of the Strange household. Someone has discovered your true sex.

She smiled faintly but said nothing, just stood up to leave. She gave him her best bow, the one that ended with a flourish of her right hand.

Not bad, Vil iers said. And then: Are you certain you wish to leave with Isidore? Youre quite welcome to stay as my ward, you know. I should be on my feet tomorrow, if al continues wel .

But Harriet was sure. There was nothing real about what had happened at Fonthil , with Jem. It was deliriously wonderful. It taught her things about men and women and her body. But her life was at home, not dressed up in breeches.

This has been a wonderful few days, she said, mean ing it. I was able to final y bury Benjamin, if that makes sense.

He inclined his head. And youre quite certain you wish to leave whomever it is?

Quite certain, she said steadily. I must return to real life. She smiled at him. I wil never dress myself as Mother Goose again.

There was an answering smile in his eyes.

She left.

Eugenia was building a castle out of pasteboard when Harriet made her way through the footman standing guard and into the nursery. She dropped to the floor next to the castle. It was remarkably good. The wal s were cut with fair precision, and glued together. Eugenia had drawn little blocks to represent bricks. And there was a tower and battlements.

Thats wonderful, Harriet said. What comes next? And hows your rat bite?

Eugenia looked up. Its you! I was hoping you would visit. Look what Im making.

A castle, Harriet said.

I made the castle before, Eugenia said impatiently. But Im going to have a battle, so Im making the soldiers now.

She was cutting out little men and placing them around the battlements. I was going to have the Saracens attack, but I changed my mind.

An army of dogs? Harriet said, seeing what was arranged outside the castle.

Rats! Eugenia said proudly. See their tails? Its hard to cut out tails. I had to set up a hospital for al the wounded rats because my scissors kept slipping. Sure enough, there was a careful little pile of mangled rats off to the side.

Hows the bite? Harriet asked.

Eugenia held out her hand. Almost gone, see?

Sure enough, the puncture wounds looked as if they were healing nicely.

I have to go home tomorrow morning, Harriet said. I came to say goodbye.

My governess went home too. And the footman. People are always going home. She turned back to the rat she was cutting out and her hair swung before her face.

Harriet gently brushed it back. Would you like to pay me a visit, if your father agrees?

I never leave Fonthil , Eugenia said. Papa doesnt real y let me out of these rooms, you know.

Thats not true! Harriet said. He just worries about you.

Thats why he brings al the actors here, because he doesnt want me to go to London to the theater, Eugenia said, stil not looking. He says someone might steal me, because we have too much money. He wont al ow me to visit you.

Il ask him, Harriet said. But you dont real y think that your father wants you in your rooms al the time, do you? He merely worries about your safety.

Eugenia gave her a little crooked smile. Its al right. One of the maids said that our house is ful of monsters. When I was little, I believed that, but now I dont.

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