Eloisa James - Duchess by Night (33 page)

He ran a hand slowly over her hip. Have you ever played master and slave girl? he asked, not expecting a yes. Whoever that gentleman farmer was Harriet married, he didnt sound like a master.

She gave him a look and sat up. Are you real y tel ing me that the whole cohort of wastrel Game-playing men are stil here and you agreed to meet them tonight?

He thought she phrased that quite succinctly. Exactly. Lets go.

Jem, dont you think she started. And then lapsed into silence.

If youd rather stay here, Jem said, having a change of heart, Im perfectly wil ing. I can teach you a lovely game cal ed Master and Slave.

Oh, sure, she said. I suppose youre the master and Im the slave.

Other way around, he said, pul ing her legs to the edge of the bed and then fal ing to his knees. Command me, O Master.

He loved her chuckle. It made his heart dance; it made him harder than a rock.

But she was persistent too. Get up, Jem. You dont real y think that were going back toto the Game this very night?

Are you tired of primero? He got to his feet. I can go by myself, though theyl miss you. Povy can easily find someone for the eighth seat. He wandered over to the fire. Eugenia had two eggs for supper tonight.

Thats wonderful, she said.

But something was sinking into his mind. He knew that tone. Every man in the world knew that tone.

Harriet? he said warily.

She was standing with her arms folded. You dont think everything is going to go back to exactly as it was, do you?

He cleared his throat. Um.

After a moment or two, she prompted. Jem.

Of course, it wont be the same, he said. I love you, Harriet. I mean, I loved you before but now I know I love you. Thats different.

So you think that Mr. Cope wil be coming out to play primero tonight?

It was starting to feel like a stupid decision to wake her up. Harriets eyes had darkened. Even though she was so angry, she was standing there naked.

He couldnt help noticing.

And she saw that he noticed. Her eyes slid down his body and then narrowed. I suppose theres an alternative to a night of primero.

Yes, he said, warily, feeling he was walking into a trap. We could play a different game, he added hastily. Chess, for example.

Or Master and Slave.

That too.

Life is not al about games, Jem.

He couldnt help what his body thought, so he grabbed a dressing gown and wrapped it around himself.

You said you loved me, she stated.

I did. I mean, I do love you.

Dont you see that things have to change?

How? He could feel tension building in his chest.

I cant be Mr. Cope forever, she said.

Relief flooded his chest. He grabbed a dressing gown and gave it to her, because he stil couldnt concentrate. Of course, I dont want you to be Mr. Cope. I want you to be Harriet. I have an idea about that. Were going to kil off Cope, in an unfortunate carriage accident. Il go away for a few days and meet you. Then you can come home with me, and just be Harriet.

I cant be just Harriet.

Why not? He could feel himself almost gabbling, but there was a look in her eyes he didnt like.

I cant live like this.

But

Like this , Jem, she said sharply. With the Game, and the Graces gal ivanting around the house when theyre not out entertaining bishops. Im not

The truth slammed into him like a brick wal . Of course she wanted to get married. And he meant to do that, of course he did.

Hed only asked her once, through the door, and she hadnt answered.

He walked across to her, cupped her face in his hands. I know what you mean, darling, he said. You dont have to ask me.

I dont? She sounded pretty stunned. He had meant to ask her to marry him again, because hed known from the very first time they made love that she was his. That he would never let her out of his sight.

You know, when I married the first time, I thought of marriage as some sort of jail. Like a little cage. A prison sentence.

Charming, she said and he loved her dry wit so much that he almost smiled, but the moment was too important.

Marrying you wil be completely different.

Not a jail sentence?

She stil looked a bit peeved.

I love you. I mean, I did love Sal y, but not when we first married.

Yet Sal y was so amusing to be with.

Yes, but

Im guessing she enjoyed the Game, if she was al owed to play.

Wel , actual y she was very

Good at primero, was she? He didnt like the way her eyebrow shot up. And how on earth had he got onto the topic of Sal y? The love he felt for Harriet was far deeper than what he had felt for Sal y. She seemed like a long-ago playmate.

I cant remember whether she played primero wel or not, he said, going for a safe bet. We were like two puppies together, Harriet. Not like you and me.

Oh? And what are we like?

Grown up, he said firmly.

Grown up. She said it slowly, as if she were tasting the words. And how do such aged people as ourselves behave?

She was obviously furious. Jems self-preservation instincts final y took over and he said, I think we should discuss this later.

You might miss the Game if we actual y discussed the future, she said.

Im happy to discuss the future!

Sothe future. Harry Cope dies. Harriet, who happens to have an unusual resemblance to Harry Cope, appears at your estate and after a brief flirtation, we marry. A nine-days wonder.

It could work. But he could feel anger building in him too. What had he done to deserve her scorn? Ask her to marry him? Only that. Ask her to marry him.

Wel spend our days learning a little fencing, riding, trading quips with the Graces or their ilk, greeting any new people who happen to appear uninvited

I invite everyone who comes here! he said, stung.

Wander down to greet our guests around twilight, have a bite to eat, start the Gameoh wait, I wont be part of that anymore, wil I? I suppose Il teach the Graces how to embroider or something ladylike.

Tenderness seized his heart. He would hate to be shown a glimpse of the freedoms al otted to menand then be forced to give them up. It would break his heart.

Obviously, it was doing the same to Harriet.

Wel change the rules, he said, putting a hand on her cheek. Al menand Harriet.

She struck his hand away from her face and spun away. Surprised, he stumbled back.

You dont understand at al !

He caught his balance on a chair. I would have to agree, he said final y. I asked you to marry me. I offered to change the rules of my household so that you could continue to join the Game because I know you enjoy it.

You dont understand anything!

He felt a swel of rage but he caught it back. Why dont you try to explain it to me?

Its al games with you. Life is not a game!

Are you suggesting that I dont work hard enough? he said. His lips seemed to be numb. I assure you that I manage my holdings.

Im certain you do, she said scathingly.

He waited a moment to see if she wanted to explain herself. Then he said, It takes a great deal of work to keep a vast estate and income the size of mine afloat, Harriet. You wouldnt understand that, but I dont see why your ignorance should result in scorn.

I manage an estate as wel , she flashed.

Of course, the farmer probably left an estate. It must not have been entailed, which suggested that Harriets husband was a commoner. Not that it mattered to him.

Its the way you approach life, she said. As if it were one long game . Her face had a stony look to it.

I dont understand your criticism. I assure you that I take no unnecessary risks with my estate.

Just with your child, she flashed.

He felt himself growing paler. She dared dared to say that he took risks with Eugenia? Stil , he forced himself to respond calmly.

It was almost like a miracle, the way he heard his own voice enquire mildly, And how exactly should I have protected Eugenia from the rat, Harriet?

Im not talking about that! Anyone could have that happenbut she was alone when it happened.

I gather youre criticizing my ability to hire nursemaids.

That governess was as feckless and beautiful as the rest of the women in this house, she said flatly. She had no real care for Eugenia: none.

She was in love. That could happen to anyone. Though he was starting to wonder if it had real y happened to Harriet.

She was part and parcel with the women who pay you visits, Harriet snapped. My mother would have cal ed her a wag-tail. She was nothing more than a ladybird, looking for her next meal!

Jem could feel himself growing rigid. Ice poured down his back. I regret that you think I wil ingly hired a ladybird to care for my daughter.

You didnt hire her wil ingly, Harriet cried. I suspect you simply dont know what a decent woman looks like.

I am not a hermit, he pointed out, counting to one hundred in the back of his mind. I frequently visit London, which is stiflingly ful of boring woman who must, therefore, be virtuous.

Oh, of course virtue is boring!

Exactly. And it makes such claims for itself. The very smel of virtue makes a woman utterly tedious, and at the same time, utterly conceited.

I am a virtuous woman, Harriet said through clenched teeth.

Wel have to agree that you are an exception, Jem said. He was vibrating with rage over her criticism of his childrearing. I shal do my best to engage a truly virtuous nanny for Eugenia. Or else Il just try to find one like yourself.

What do you mean by that?

You came to my house under a false name, dressed in breeches, he pointed out. When it became clear to both of us that we were of compatible genders, you fel into bed with me without showing an undue amount of virtue. Thank God.

In short: you think Im a strumpet.

Only in the best meaning of the term.

A ladybird.

His back stiffened again and his jaw tightened. There would be nothing so terrible about being a ladybird, Harriet.

So is that the future you have in mind for Eugenia? Is that why she is locked in the west wing, hardly able to enjoy fresh airwhile al the ladybirds trot around your estate?

I have never kept Eugenia from the fresh air. Neither have I unreasonably immured her from our guests. She has come to know a few of the young women very wel .

Too late, he realized this was a mistake. Harriets eyes flashed and she made a sound that could have been a growl, on a man. I gather it is your ambition to turn her to a ladybird, then, since you give her such excel ent companionship.

Can you please find some other term for this conversation?

Doxy? Her tone was delicate but sharp as knives. Drab or strumpet? There are so many appropriate words.

And as a virtuous woman, you know them al , he said, pushed beyond endurance. Good women delight in throwing terms at those less fortunateeven while they gaily engage in precisely the same behavior.

She paled and he knew that went home.

I suppose youre right, she said, a second later.

You virtuous women shun and scorn those whom you believe to be weaker, less righteous. And yet Youre saying Ive played the doxy in your house, and now I have no right to condemn you for your taste in companionship. After al , I transformed myself into precisely what you always desired.

He was never very good at sorting out a whole swirl of emotions, and he felt buffeted by them. Im not sure Luckily, I am quite certain. You are right.

She waited until he said, cautiously, Oh.

I had no right to ask you to change, or to think that you were even capable of it. I thought and something flashed across her eyes I thought you saw my heart. I thought you knew me. What a fool I was.

She almost whispered the last.

Dont look grieved, Jem said, catching her arm. I do know you, Harriet. I love you.

She didnt even hear him. I wove it al in my head, of course, fool that I am. I was playing the doxy and you saw me as a doxy, and that

I never saw you as that! Never!

That is that, she finished.

What are you talking about?

Final y, she looked at him again. I am extraordinarily slow in my understanding, Jem.

So am I, he said. Because I have no idea what is going on here.

This wil make you laugh. There was something empty in her eyes that made him want to scream at her. I actual y thought you wouldyou would change.

I wil change! I told you I would change. I want to marry you.

Not that.

Ive never asked anyone to marry me, by my own impulse and reckoning. I didnt think it would be thrown away so lightly.

I thought you knew what kind of woman I am. I thought you wouldI thought you would become that sort of man.

Jesus, he said. I am the sort of man for you, Harriet. Dont you understand that?

She shook her head. You are a wonderful companion. I thought you could be something youre not at al . I thought you could be the sort of man who marries a woman like methe real me, not Mr. Cope. Not me under a secret name and having a wild affaire .

The me who runs an estate, Jem. The me who sits in judgment in the shire court. I did behave like a ladybird. She must have seen him flinch. But I thought you knew that it wasnt the real meI thought you would come home with me.

He laughed, heard his own laugh, like a bark. To the little farm your husband left you?

Its not little.

Whatever size it is, darling, he said, reining in his impatience, Fonthil is hundreds of acres. Its not practical to leave my estate and move to yours.

I meantI meant not just physical y come with me. Come with me in other ways.

Do you mean become some sort of country squire, like your husband?

My husband wasnt a country squire.

Whatever he was, Jem said impatiently. A gentleman farmer, living off in the country with his hogs. I dont care if he wasnt a gentleman, Harriet. Ive never cared for rank. You should know that about me.

I see that, Harriet said. But Jem, I havent been honest with you. I played the doxy, and Im not one. I frolicked with the Graces, and I led you to believe that I could live in such a way for my whole life.