Simply Voracious (29 page)

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Authors: Kate Pearce

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica, #Romance

BOOK: Simply Voracious
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“I’m not sure how to explain it to you.”

“From the beginning?”

Lucky hesitated, and Emily leaned forward to touch her knee.

“I promise I’ll never speak a word of this to anyone unless you ask me to.”

“I know that,” Lucky replied. “It’s just that things are rather complicated.”

Emily sat back. “Let me guess. Paul has realized he still wants Constantine Delinsky.”

“That is part of it, but . . .”

“That’s quite enough!” Emily said. “I
knew
he would never keep his promises.”

Lucky stared at her friend. “Emily, don’t jump to conclusions. I
know
Paul wants Constantine; the thing is . . .” She looked down at her clenched hands. “I think I want him too.”

Silence greeted her announcement. When she found the courage to look up, Emily was just staring at her, openmouthed.

“Oh, dear.”

“It’s not quite as bad as you might think.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, because Constantine offered to . . . to bed us both.”

“Oh, my word.” Emily rose to her feet. “Stay there a minute, Lucky. I want to see if anyone has returned home.”

“What does that have to do with . . . ?” Lucky’s question went unanswered as Emily ran out of the room. She sat back and tried to contain her impatience. When Emily reappeared she had Lucky’s cloak in her hands.

“Helene isn’t here, so she must be at the pleasure house. Let’s go.”

Lucky put on her cloak. “What are you talking about?”

Emily maneuvered her toward the door. “Helene is the only woman who might be equipped to help you with your problem.”

Lucky allowed herself to be led down the stairs and into the waiting carriage. She couldn’t disagree with Emily’s assessment. Madame Helene was indeed the only woman who might be able to offer her some helpful advice.

 

“Where exactly is Lady Lucinda?”

Paul looked around Lucky’s neat bedchamber as if he might spot her hiding in the closet or something. She was definitely hiding from him—that he was sure of. He glanced speculatively at her black-haired maid. He’d known Milly for years. She was fond of Paul but devoted to her mistress, and probably not averse to lying for her.

Milly bobbed him a curtsy.

“She went out, sir.”

“I can see that. Where exactly did she go?”

“To have dinner with Miss Ross at Knowles House, sir.”

“Did she say when she would be back?”

“She didn’t, sir.”

“And did she leave any message for me?”

Milly looked uncomfortable. “I can’t say she did, sir.”

“Thank you.” Paul took one more look around the deserted bedchamber and then went through to his own. Jordan was waiting to dress him for dinner, and Paul waved him away. The duke and duchess were attending a function at court. If Lucky wasn’t here, there was no need for him to dress up in all his finery and sit at the table by himself.

Paul sat by the fire and contemplated his options. He could go after Lucky and demand that she speak to him, but that would accomplish nothing. He knew from past experience that she would talk to him when she was good and ready. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say to her.

The idea of Con offering to share himself with both of them had both shocked Paul to the core and excited him beyond measure. To have access to the man and woman he most wanted seemed like a dream come true. He knew Con loved to bed women, but Lucky? Was she intent on offering herself up as a sacrifice for him? Sharing herself with another man probably went against everything she had been brought up to believe was proper.

Paul sipped at the hot toddy Jordan had left for him. And when it came down to it, Lucky was still a duke’s daughter and had played the part successfully her whole life. But didn’t he know her better? Hadn’t he seen that spark of interest at the pleasure house for the forbidden, for the unknown?

He put his glass down on the table with a thump. If Lucky continued to run away from him, he would never find out her opinion on anything.

“Devil take it!” Paul muttered. Sitting by the fire didn’t suit him at all. Perhaps it would be better if he took his worries to Ambrose at the pleasure house.

 

“Ah, Lady Lucinda! How are you?” Madame Helene exclaimed.

She was sitting in one of the offices of the pleasure house in a simple muslin day frock, a smear of ink on her sleeve and a pair of spectacles on her nose. There was a pile of account books on the desk and a candelabra shedding light on them at her elbow. She still looked about the same age as Lucky and Emily, and twice as beautiful.

Emily took Lucky’s hand. “Helene, Lucky needs some advice.”

“Are you all right,
ma petite?
” Helene frowned and waved her into the nearest chair. Her gaze fell to Lucky’s waistline. “Are you unwell?”

“Not really, Madame. I just need your help on a rather complicated personal matter.”

Although Lucky knew that Emily must have been dying of curiosity, she headed for the door. “I’m going to the kitchen. Come and find me when you have finished.” She blew Lucky an airy kiss.

In the silence that followed Emily’s departure, Helene drew up another chair close to Lucky’s and sat down.

“Are you with child?”

“I’m still not sure.”

Helene frowned. “You still haven’t bled?”

“But that is not unusual for me.” Lucky glanced down at her flat stomach. “I certainly don’t feel as if I’m breeding.”

Helene sighed. “Well, time will show the truth of that. What else is worrying you?”

Lucky stumbled through her tale. Helene nodded and didn’t interrupt until Lucky ran out of words.

“Constantine Delinsky offered himself to both of you?”

“Yes,” Lucky whispered. “Do you think he meant it?”

Helene sat back. “I’m sure he did. Although I know Constantine has feelings for Paul, he does tend to prefer women in his bed.” She hesitated. “Would you want that?”

“To be in Constantine’s bed?” Lucky bit down on her lip. “I think I would.” She raised her gaze to Helene’s. “Is that wrong of me?”

“I told you before you married Paul that you did not have to have a conventional marriage, only one that suited you both. The real question is, are you doing this for yourself, or simply because you want Paul to be happy?”

Lucky sighed. “I don’t know. I never imagined I would have to make such a decision. I expected Paul to find himself a new lover eventually, and for me to turn a blind eye to it like all the other ladies of the
ton
.”

“I don’t believe your father has ever had a mistress.”

“That’s because he and Mother made a love match.” Lucky swallowed hard. “But even they would never understand that their only daughter is considering becoming an adulteress less than two months after her wedding.”

“I think they would understand better than you think, but I still don’t recommend you ask their advice.”

Lucky managed to smile. “They would be horrified. I’m glad to hear that Constantine Delinsky really does like women. Thank you for listening to me. I still haven’t quite decided what I want to do at this point. I also need to talk to Paul.”

“Yes you do, and I’m glad if I helped you in any way at all.” Helene patted Lucky’s hand. “Relationships can be so difficult, but you must follow your heart and be honest about what you want, regardless of how you might be judged. Do you want me to take you down to the kitchens? I think we’ll find Emily there.”

 

Paul reached the pleasure house and made his way through the back door into the kitchen. To his surprise, Ambrose was again sitting across from Emily Ross at the table. They appeared to be arguing about something, and neither of them noticed Paul discarding his outer garments in the doorway. Eventually he cleared his throat and Ambrose looked up.

“Lieutenant.” Ambrose forced a smile.

“Ambrose, Miss Ross.” Paul continued to divest himself of his gloves. It was none of his business if Emily and Ambrose wanted to fight, and he certainly wouldn’t interfere. “It is damn cold out there tonight.”

Emily rose with a sigh, his cheeks flushed. “I suppose
you
want to talk to Ambrose, don’t you? I’ll go and find Helene.”

Paul watched her stomp out of the room and turned to Ambrose. “Why is Miss Ross so out of sorts? Is she coming down with a cold?”

“No, I believe she just hates not being involved in everybody’s lives.”

Paul raised his eyebrows. “Has she been lecturing you, my friend?”

“She . . . wants things from me that I am unable to give her.”

“What sort of things?”

Ambrose shook his head. “I’m not ready to talk about that yet.” He paused. “She has been complaining about you, though.”

Paul sat down at the table. “What did
I
do?”

“She wouldn’t tell me, but I gathered it has something to do with Lady Lucinda, and that you are to blame.”


Obviously
. Why do women always have to confide things to each other?”

“Aren’t you just about to confide in me?”

“Well, that’s different.” Paul settled more comfortably into his seat and put his elbows on the table. “I need help.”

“What have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything.” He ignored the disbelief on Ambrose’s face and kept talking. “Constantine Delinsky offered to bed me and my wife.”

“What?”

“Exactly.”

“Is he really that desperate to get you back?”

“No, I think it is a little more complicated than that.” Paul rubbed his face. “He is rather taken with my wife.”

“And how does she feel about him?”

“That, my friend, is the question.”

Ambrose whistled softly. “She is here, you know.”

“Who is?”

“Your wife. She and Emily came to find Madame Helene.”

“That was rather astute of her.”

“She isn’t what I expected at all, Paul.”

Paul smiled. “I know. Despite her age, she is remarkably intelligent and willing to go after what she desires in a straightforward manner reminiscent of her father.”

“In truth, the perfect woman for you.”

Paul’s smile died and he held Ambrose’s gaze. “Yes, she is. I don’t want to lose her, Ambrose. I’m not sure if I want to risk everything to go after an impossible dream of having them both.”

“If your wife is as intelligent as you say she is, at least do her the courtesy of sharing your worries with her.”

“Of course I will. We promised to be honest with each other. She has always been one of my best friends.”

Ambrose sat back. “Then go and find her and
talk
to her, not me.”

Paul rose. “But I like talking to you.” He hesitated. “And if I can help you with your other matter, please let me know.”

Ambrose’s mouth set in a stubborn, defeated line. “There is nothing more to say about that.”

“I’m sure Miss Ross would disagree with you. Now where did you say my wife could be found?”

22

“A
h, there you are, Lucky. Just the woman I wished to see.”

Paul waited to see whether his wife would turn and bolt, but although she looked a little apprehensive, she remained where she was by the door of Christian’s office.

“Paul. Emily said you were here.”

“And you didn’t immediately try and escape me? At least that’s progress.”

She braced her hand against the door frame and met his gaze. “I wasn’t running away. I just had to think.”

He gestured into another empty room farther along the corridor. “And are you ready to talk to me now?”

She followed him into the room and waited while he lit some candles and stirred up the embers of the fire.

“Did you know that Constantine Delinsky was going to say that?”

Paul was still kneeling in front of the fire, but he turned to face her. “No, I didn’t.”

“I wondered whether you had planned it between you.”

“No.” He waited until she sat down and then sat opposite her. “I can understand why you might think that, but it came as a shock to me too.”

“Yet you knew Constantine was happy to bed women.”

“In truth, he prefers women. I am the exception, not you.”

She nodded as though he confirmed what she had already heard. “Do you think he means it?”

“I believe so. Con is one of the most straightforward men I have ever met.” It occurred to him that Con reminded him of Lucky. Perhaps that was why he found them both so attractive. “The thing is, Lucky, I know how I feel about you and Con, and I know how Con feels about me. The pieces that are missing are yours and Con’s to fill.”

“Will you not think me shameful if I let another man touch me?”

He took her hand. “Lucky, how could I?”

She wouldn’t look at him. “Most men prefer their wives to be chaste and obedient—at least until they have two or three sons to safeguard the succession.”

“You know I’m not like that.”

“But why not?”

“Because I’ve never fit in with society. I don’t care what they think of me, and I don’t believe I ever will.”

“But you will be a
duke!

“I’m aware of that, but I’ve realized that it doesn’t change who I am inside of me, who I want to be.” He kissed her fingers. “I want you to do whatever you feel is right. If you want Con, have him. I’m hardly going to object.”

She gazed at him then, the expression in her clear blue eyes a mixture of hope and dread. “You are far too good to me.”

“Lucky, I am not. I’m simply trying to be honest with you. Would it help if we talked to Con together?”

“Now?”

“Why not? I’ll send a note around to his lodgings and see if he wants to meet us here.” He rose and held out his hand. “We’ll await his answer in the kitchen while we sample some of Madame Durand’s famous cooking.”

 

Con looked up at the façade of the pleasure house, studied the note Gregor had given him once more, and then stuffed it into his pocket. Despite having been the one to “throw the cat among the pigeons,” as he believed the English phrase went, he was surprisingly on edge. The note had been signed by both of the St. Clares, so he assumed they were both present and awaiting him.

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