Rules of Passion (23 page)

“It has been very good for business that his lordship has returned to the club so soon. It would be very bad, however, if he were to be attacked a second time.”

As she watched Dobson stroll off, she allowed herself a moment alone with her thoughts.

Marietta, Marietta, what am I to do with you?

Max Valland wished to marry her daughter, but he was penniless and he wanted to take her to Cornwall. It seemed extreme, but as long as Marietta was happy about that it wouldn’t matter, although it would be better if she loved him, and he loved her. Having known love herself, Aphrodite wanted her daughter to experience its wonder.

She remembered now the expression in Max’s eyes, something hot and familiar. Perhaps he
was
in love with her and just didn’t know it yet; he was certainly determined to have his way. But was Marietta as fond of him? She must discover how Marietta felt. A smile played around her mouth—since her daughter had arrived in London, life had certainly become far more interesting.

Marietta was dreaming. She was in the flying carriage pulled by the horses with wings, and they were sailing west, towards Cornwall. Max was beside her, wearing a top hat, and she had a bridal veil. They seemed happy enough, until she noticed there was someone else in the carriage. It was Harold, and just as she recognized him he pulled out a pistol and fired it at Max.

She woke with a start.

Apricot satin hung in folds all about her. When she tried to sit up her body cried out for her to stop, and she gasped. She was aching all over, and there was a tingling, burning sensation between her legs, and she smelled of…

Max.

This time she did sit up despite the pain and looked anxiously around the room. The lamp was
still burning low, the fire was crackling, the remains of their meal were scattered about, but the room itself was empty. Her eyes crept to the sofa, but apart from some cushions tossed onto the floor and the creased coverings, there was no sign that she and Max had ever reached those dizzy heights of pleasure together. Twice.

Or was it three times?

Max, the gentleman, had loosened the reins on his control with a vengeance—his horse had well and truly bolted. Marietta smiled and lay against the pillows, stretching carefully, letting her mind travel back through the evening.

Well, she knew all about desire now. Max had shown her things that she had only dreamed of—there was no comparison. Aphrodite had not been exaggerating when she said that he was a man of experience…

Aphrodite!

Marietta sprang out of bed, and then stopped and caught her breath as the muscles in her thighs cramped. She was sore and sticky, and she made her way to the jug and bowl on the dresser and proceeded to clean herself thoroughly. Her trousers were beyond repair and she couldn’t find her blouse, but she still had the robe, and now she slipped it on over her naked body.

She could tell it was very late. How long had she slept? Vivianna knew she was staying with Aphrodite—she had grudgingly agreed to it—so she would not be worried, but Aphrodite would be waiting impatiently to hear how she had got on.

As if her thoughts had conjured her mother, there
was a sharp rap on the door, and before Marietta could utter more than a squeak, it opened.

Aphrodite stepped in and closed the door behind her. For a moment she said nothing, just stared at Marietta standing in the middle of the room in her silk robe. She was wearing her usual black, her hair drawn into a rather severe chignon, but tonight there was a flush to her cheeks and her eyes gleamed with some inner excitement.

Marietta stared back at her uneasily.

“You do not have to say anything, your Max has told me what he has done.”

“Oh.” She was relieved for only a brief moment. “Well, to be fair, it wasn’t just him. Everything…somehow we couldn’t stop. He did give me the choice, and I didn’t want to.”

“I see.” She rolled her eyes. “Where have I heard that before?” she muttered to herself. “Why do none of my daughters listen to me?”

“Madame?” Marietta whispered.

“It does not matter.” Aphrodite waved her hand. “Your Max is not a man to be trifled with,
mon petit puce
, remember that. You should not play him for a fool.”

Marietta blinked at her in confusion. “What do you mean, Mama?”

“I mean…he seems very able, child. Perhaps I should use him to help some of the other girls. Would you recommend him in his role as mentor, Marietta? I had not thought of such a thing before, but now…hmm, the idea is a good one.”

A terrible wave of pain rose up inside her; she felt like physically jumping back from the suggestion. Her chest ached and despite her efforts her eyes
filled with tears, but her mother was watching her.

“No,” she managed to gasp, and cleared her throat. “That is, he is a very good mentor, but I don’t think he would ever agree to such a thing.”

Aphrodite frowned, looking concerned. “Are you all right, my child? You do not look happy. Come, are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt. Just…just…” The tears welled up and blinded her.

Aphrodite made a soft sympathetic sound and held out her arms, and after a brief hesitation Marietta ran into them. She snuggled close to her mother, feeling her warmth through the rigid bone of the stays she wore and the scratchy stiffening of the silk dress. None of that seemed to matter, when her mother’s arms were holding her and her sweet fragrance was comforting her.

“When a man like Max Valland wants a woman, Marietta, it is hard to resist him. You shouldn’t feel guilty or uncomfortable about that.”

Marietta snuggled yet closer.

“You have never had the chance to enjoy yourself in that way. Max can open a new world for you, a world of pleasure and sensual treats. I think you should make the most of your time with him, Marietta, because such joys do not happen very often.”

Marietta sighed.

“Did you not like what you did together? Was it not pleasurable?”

She hesitated, but she couldn’t lie to Aphrodite. “It was wonderful.”

“Then if Max agrees I will make him an offer. He should continue to be your mentor and when you are done with him, he can work with some of my other
girls. What do you think?” She seemed to be belaboring the point, but Marietta was too emotionally off-balance for it to occur to her. In fact she thought it was an awful idea. The image of Max with other women, doing what they had just done, was so painful and so horrible that she could hardly bear it. And yet it should not affect her like this. He was nothing to her—a casual acquaintance, that was all.

It is almost as if I am in love with him,
Marietta thought bleakly.

But she knew she could never fall in love. She could not have her heart broken again. And with Max she suddenly understood it would be so much worse than it had been before. If he were to love her, and make her love him and trust him, and then decide he no longer wanted her—abandon her—then she would be destroyed. Utterly and completely destroyed. There could be no way back from that.

It was a combination of self-preservation and the longing to have a full life that had set her on the path to being a courtesan. She must not be swayed from her goal, not when she was so close to obtaining it. She must not be blinded again by thoughts of love and happiness, only to find them nothing more than a young girl’s dreams.

Max was handsome and strong and honest, in fact she had often thought he was too good to be true—all the more reason not to trust her own feelings and senses where he was concerned. Only a fool would make the same mistake a second time.

Aphrodite continued to rock her, but she seemed deep in her own thoughts. “We will talk of this matter again,” she murmured at last. “I think that for now you should carry on with your tasks. Max will
help you to learn what it is to be a woman who desires a man,
oui
? Just as he has been doing.”

“But—” she began, trying not to wail.

“Unless you wish to use another man?” she said innocently, still with that watchful gaze.

Marietta swallowed, feeling sick. Another man in Max’s place? Another man kissing her, touching her, smiling down at her as he entered her body. She shook her head decisively.

“Good, then it shall go on as before between you and Max. I think, this time, you will meet in seclusion. A rendezvous between lovers who are not free to love, so the moment is especially piquant,
oui
? Would you like that, Marietta?”

She looked up, her tired eyes amused. “It sounds intriguing, Madame, as you meant it to. Where should we have this secluded rendezvous?”

Aphrodite smiled. “There is a villa in St. John’s Wood—it belongs to a prima donna, but she allows it to be used as an introducing house.”

Marietta looked confused.

“A prima donna is a kept woman,
mon petit puce
, and an introducing house is a place used by those who wish to remain incognito and yet meet others who are seeking similar entertainments. The villa is popularly known as the Lustful Lady. Max will have heard of it. You will meet him there tomorrow night at eleven o’clock. Do you think you can manage that, Marietta?”

“I am sure I can.” The Lustful Lady—what an appalling name! But even that could not stop the sense of anticipation that was already creeping over Marietta. It was as if she was no longer in control of her own desires, and remembering the warnings Max
had given her that was certainly a worrying thing.

Marietta pondered whether she should mention to her mother that Max had asked her to marry him and go with him to Cornwall, but decided against it. Aphrodite might not think they should continue, or rightly suggest she find another man with whom she was not in danger of falling in love. And whatever the rights or wrongs of it, whatever the risk to herself, and despite knowing it could lead nowhere, Marietta wanted to continue making love with Max as long as possible—she wanted it desperately.

Max prowled his house in Bedford Square, each footfall sure and certain despite the darkness. The Pomeroys and Daniel were asleep in their quarters and he was all alone. This had been his home since he was a baby and he knew it so well he did not need to see—he could have walked about blindfolded. Soon this house would be gone, handed over to Harold and Susannah, and when his father…that is, the Duke of Barwon, was dead, they would have Valland House, too. The life that Max had been so complacent about had been changed irrevocably by his mother’s letter, and his father’s reading of it at the new year supper. He could still hear the duke’s voice, trembling a little at the end, but strong and burning with his righteous anger. It was Max who had weakened and stumbled from the room.

Max shook the memory from his head and kept walking, his stride growing longer and more determined as he tried to put the memories behind him. There was no point in regretting what was done, that wouldn’t change anything. Max had been forcibly ejected from the bosom of the Valland family, and Ian Keith was right, there was a sort of freedom in that. His plan to reopen the mine was beginning to interest him more and more, and the duties and tasks he had been trained to take over on his father’s death less and less. He could be whatever he wished to be; his life was a chart upon which he could plot a new course.

Marietta.

He remembered her skin beneath his hands, the warmth of her kisses, her body trembling as he led her with him into sensual paradise. This need for her that was burning inside him was new and disturbing. Stupid, too, because before, when he was heir to the dukedom, thoughts of marriage hadn’t interested him. He had believed that he had plenty of time for such mundane matters—of course he knew
he would have to marry and produce an heir some day, but he had been in no hurry.

If he had known Marietta then, would he have seen her as the woman he wanted above all others? Was Aphrodite right, would she have been on his carefully chosen list of prospective duchesses? Clearly Harold didn’t think so.

For a moment Max grew hot and angry, thinking of his cousin’s high-handed interference—but that would keep. He would instruct the Pomeroys to ignore anything Harold had told them, and the next time Harold showed his face here he would deal with him. Harold might have taken everything from him, but he would not take Marietta.

He leaned his head against the cool window and gazed down into the quiet square. Marietta would be awake now in that apricot bed, with the angels and cupids circling above her. He wondered whether she would be thinking of him, and decided she probably was. He had used her well, shown her pleasure that she had never known existed, and she had reveled in it. Still, knowing her as he did, he admitted that Aphrodite was probably right, and she would refuse to go to Cornwall as his wife. She had her stubborn sights set on being a courtesan.

Of course there was more to it than that. Her heart had been badly broken, and with the pain and disgrace that had come afterwards she was naturally wary about having it broken again. He understood that, he respected that.

But Max knew now that he wanted her enough to fight for her. Marietta had stepped into his life with her direct fearless gaze and decided opinions, and he wasn’t about to let her out again. He did not know
if he loved her, but he wanted her. By God, he wanted her! Every moment he was away from her he wanted her more. It was as if she were a part of him now.