by Lynn Kerstan
“And what will you do, Duran-Sahib?”
“I am going out. Come watch me. Then, if you are asked, you can truthfully reply that you saw me leave and had no idea where I was going.”
“Where are you going?”
“Dear me. If I tell you, you’ll have to lie. Or betray my location, which would be inconvenient. Besides, it’s not as if I can go anywhere unobserved by your watch dogs.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or can I?”
“No.”
“Well, then, what are you worried about? I’m only trying to disengage you from any illegalities I may be required to undertake. If you could bring yourself to tell a corker, these precautions would be unnecessary.”
“When Sir Gerald inquired for Lady Mariah,” said Shivaji, ignoring Duran as if he hadn’t spoken, “he was disturbed to be told she was not in residence. There were threats, I believe. He departed soon after.”
In some regards, Duran was compelled to admit, Shivaji was a better game player than he. “I’m almost afraid to ask. Where was he going?”
“To locate a constable. He believes the family to be guilty of withholding a wife from her husband. This is illegal in England?”
“How would I know? I grew up in India, where law is a matter of whim. Take, for instance, a certain nizam—but I digress.” Sealing the notes, he passed them to his nemesis. “Is there anything else I ought to know?”
“When Sir Gerald demanded to see you, Lord Sothingdon said you were not to be disturbed. He also said that if Sir Gerald was unable to behave with civility, he should take himself . . . elsewhere.”
“Will wonders never cease? Papa-in-law has located his backbone.” Duran glanced at the letters in Shivaji’s slender hand. “Well, be off with you.”
The brown eyes fixed on him. “I suspect you intend to fight Sir Gerald, but it will not be permitted. I cannot allow you a weapon.”
“Would you accept a battle of wits, then? Insults at dawn? Sarcasm at twenty paces?”
“You can do nothing, Duran. He is for his family to deal with.”
“But I am his family. And until Sunday, my life is my own.”
“I was mistaken to grant the time,” said Shivaji, regarding him thoughtfully. “I have had a dream. The pathway to death is under the ground and in the country of stones. You will be lost in white darkness. Thunder will bring you down.”
“Ah. A poetic demise. Entirely wasted on a plebeian like me, I’m afraid, but at least you will be denied the pleasure of doing me in.” Duran chuckled. “All assuming, of course, that dreams really do come true.”
Chapter 27
“I won’t have it, Duran. When you deal with Gerald, it is my right as much as yours to be there.”
“Point taken.” He watched her stride back and forth in front of him, eyes flashing, skirts swishing, hair springing loose from its pins. Jessica in a temper drove through the room like a Ship of the Line under full sail. “But it will go better if I handle him alone. Might you, this once, do as you are bid, if only for the novelty of it?”
“I am here, am I not? As I was bid. That is sufficient novelty for one day.”
They were in Lady Sothingdon’s bedchamber, the late-afternoon sun spiking through the windows, Jessica keeping her distance from the portrait and the painted woman that appeared to scrutinize the both of them simultaneously.
For all the energy with which Jessica defied him, shadowed eyes marked her weariness after the long journey to and from Mrs. Bellwood’s cottage. He had resolved to make her even wearier before the afternoon was over.
“Why are we skulking here?” she demanded. “Do not tell me you are afraid of him? He can do us no harm under my father’s roof.”
“But if he returns with a constable, you will be questioned about your sister’s location, and the falsehood you will undoubtedly tell might later come back to haunt you. It’s as well to avoid vexation whenever possible, don’t you think?”
“How could I, when you insist on doing all my thinking for me? What is more, I take exception to the reasonable-male- condescending-to-irrational-female tone in your voice.”
“My apologies,” he said equably. “I shall make every attempt to sound less reasonable. So long as you understand that I am being reasonable. We elected to deal with Gerald using less than legal methods, and the—”
“See!” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “You said it. We elected. I concede your point about staying clear of the authorities, but I am as much a part of this scheme as you. I helped plan it, arrange it, and carry it out, and I intend to be present at the conclusion.”
“What you really want, princess, is to gloat.”
“Precisely.”
“But you are losing sight of the objective. We wish him to go away and stay away, quietly and without making more trouble for anyone. Yes?”
“Of course. But why can I not watch him squirm?”
“Because—” He swiped his fingers through his hair. “Jessie, this is one of those things that has to be dealt with man-to-man.”
She whirled on him, fur all puffed out and claws unsheathed. “Toad-to-snake, you mean.”
He guessed she had cast him in the role of snake. But maybe not. “Try to put yourself in Talbot’s place. You have taken his measure. He is an arrogant man with aspirations beyond his capacities who frequently meets with disappointment. He also has an entirely misguided contempt for females.”
“In that,” she said acidly, “he is not alone.”
“I’m sure your experience in business has led you to believe so. But Talbot is not merely unenlightened. He loathes you. And because you are stronger, more intelligent, and far more accomplished than he will ever be, he fears you as well. You demonstrate that he cannot claim even the superiority he feels entitled to for having been born a male.”
“Born? He was spawned. In a pond.”
Ah, good. Talbot had been appointed toad. And what had he come to, Duran wondered, to be pleased at his own elevation to snake? “Then consider how he will react when I point out to him, in quelling detail, his exact circumstances. It is bad enough you were the architect of his downfall. He will not stand for you to witness his humiliation.”
She dropped onto a chair. “How does that signify? His sensibilities are of no concern to me.”
“Nor to me. But a man trapped in a corner can either yield or fight back. Add a woman to the mix and the man will nearly always choose to fight. If the woman is you, even a toad will fight to the death.”
“I see. How provoking. But is he truly cornered?”
“Near enough. My fear is that given a short list of bad choices, he may select one that will do damage to your family. Your presence would all but certainly goad him to retribution.”
“He’s not overly fond of you, either.”
“No. But since I am of his kind, a wastrel and a gamester, I do not threaten his amour propre. Let this be, Jessica. I’ll tell you all about it afterward.”
“The censored version, I have no doubt.” Her eyes narrowed. “What are you going to say to him that you don’t want me to hear?”
That was too near the mark. He contrived a look of surprise, as if the thought of deceiving her was the furthest thing from his mind. “Why, nothing I can recall at the moment. You know the arrangements we’ve made and what we hope will come of them. I simply intend to point out that his situation is irreparable, his options few, and that a quiet departure is in his best interest. Have you anything to add?”
“A great deal. But never mind. I accept that you will do as you like, and that I ought to be grateful for your assistance.” A brief smile took the sting from her words. “I truly am, you know. It is unfair that by wedding me, you have become enmeshed in the Carville family squabbles.”
“My pleasure,” he said, smiling back. “Especially when it means drawing Aubrey’s cork.”
That earned the laugh he was aiming for, but the worry in her eyes returned all too quickly. “What if it doesn’t work, Duran?
What if he refuses to leave the country? There is little we can do, really, to compel him. And if he does go, what’s to stop him from taking Mariah along?”
“Colonel Pageter. That’s who I’m counting on, at any rate. But we’ll have to see if he can ungird his honorable loins long enough to do what is required.”
“John?” she said in a strangled voice. “I knew there was something you weren’t telling me. What has he to do with this?”
“You noticed nothing today at the cottage?”
Her brow furrowed. “Only that Mariah is looking well. Mrs. Bellwood insists that she eat regularly, and she has been helping in the garden. But she remains terrified that Gerald will find her.”
“I meant, princess, between your sister and Pageter.”
“Between them? Well, nothing, of course. They scarcely spoke. Mariah pottered around setting the table, chopping vegetables, brewing tea, while John sat still as a washboard and stared at the wall. It was kind of him to escort me there. I thought at the time he was finding it an uncomfortable experience, but gentlemen often feel that way when surrounded by females.”
“I don’t.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “But I can quite imagine the scene. What you witnessed, my dear, was a case of mutually unrequited love.”
Her mouth opened, closed, and dropped open again. “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “Mariah has been married since long before they met, and John would never dangle after a married woman.”
“Quite right. And he hasn’t. But that does not preclude falling in love, which he has. Mariah as well, I expect, although she has not confirmed it to me.”
“John told you he . . . Oh, my. That would explain why he kept coming around after I made it clear we would not suit.”
“I expect so. Courting you gave him an excuse to spend a little time in her company, until it became too difficult for them both. So he requested a posting to a faraway place. But instead of being a good lad and taking his lady with him, he left her to Gerald’s fists.”
“He couldn’t have known. None of us did, back then.”
Duran relented, to a degree. “If you say so. But he knows now. I think we can rely on him to keep Mariah safe, although it may require them to go into hiding for a time.”
“Together? My heavens. I find that difficult to imagine.”
“Oh, they’ll probably take up residence in separate pastures and gaze at each other over the fence of their rectitude like a pair of lovelorn sheep. I much prefer your direct approach, Jessie. Come to think of it, you never asked if I was married before hauling me to your bed.”
“Who else would have you?” she retorted, color flooding her cheeks. “Besides, I asked Lady Fielding. We were at her ball, remember?”
“I remember only you, princess. Only you.”
Her gaze caught his and held it for a long moment before her lashes fluttered down. He thought, then, that she would ask why he still intended to leave her, and had long since prepared a glib response for just this occasion.
But when she spoke again, it was to turn the subject. “When will you meet with him?”
“That depends, of course, on when he returns. Your father has agreed to invite him to stay the night, and I am hoping to snag him after supper. Which means,” he added, glancing at the mantelpiece clock, and from there to the canopied bed, “that we have several hours to ourselves. Any suggestions how to fill them?”
Her gaze followed his and speedily returned to his face. “Not in here, Duran. Not on that bed. Not with my mother watching.”
“Well,” he said, uncoiling from the chair, “we have to remain here, at least until the constable has come and gone. But I’m fairly sure I can make you forget where you are. And we don’t require the bed. There is plenty of furniture, or the carpet. Although . . . now that I think on it, I don’t believe I have ever taken you against a wall. Shall we begin with that?”
Her eyes, round as a kitten’s, fixed on him. She looked down to where his erection had begun to strain against his trousers. She shivered.
“As for Mama,” he said, “voyeur that she is, I shall direct her attention where it belongs.” With some effort, he wrestled the portrait from its hangings and dragged it to the farthest end of the room, where he stood it—Lady Sothingdon’s face to the wall—in the corner. “And now, princess, where would you like to be?”
She had risen, arms clutched around her waist, and was examining a stretch of bare wall near the fireplace. “It doesn’t look very comfortable.”
He approached her with deliberate intent, unbuttoning his trousers with one hand and his waistcoat with the other. “It’s not supposed to be comfortable. It’s supposed to be rock hard, like this”—he freed himself—”and urgent, also like this. It’s supposed to be me plundering you, with this. Are you ready?”
She was breathing heavily. She nodded.
“Then what are we waiting for?” He was directly in front of her now, his cock several inches closer than the rest of him, nearly touching her skirts. He placed his hands on her shoulders and began backing her up until she was pressed to the wall. Then he lifted her skirts, slipped his fingers through the slit in her drawers to make sure she was ready to receive him, and moved his hands to her waist.
“When I am inside you, wrap your legs around me and hang on. This is going to be a wild ride.”
“Hurry,” she begged.
“Always so impatient. Very well, then. Here we go.”
He raised her up, put one arm behind her back to secure her, and with his other, inserted himself just a little inside her. She moaned, gripped his shoulders, tried to wriggle down on him.
“You’ll get your turn later,” he advised, holding her still. “As many turns as we can survive. But this time is for me.”
With that, he brought her down until there was no part of his cock that wasn’t engulfed in tight, slick, glorious female flesh.
Her legs came up to enclose his hips. He let her back go against the wall, held her by the waist, and moved her up and down on him, up and down, feeling her squeezing him as she built to her first climax. He helped her, moving her faster and faster, making sure he pressed against her swelling nub. Then she began to come, and he cut off her cry of pleasure with a kiss.
Until she ceased rippling around him, he held her close, letting her enjoy every pulsing moment. Her head slid to his shoulder and rested there.
“Oh,” she murmured. “That was lovely. But you said it was to be for you.”
“Did you imagine I was finished?” He adjusted his position, bending his knees slightly and placing his hands firmly on her hips. “A different motion this time, I think. I will go up and down, while you go around and around. Will you like that?”
“I always like what you do to me . . . Yesssss. Oh, oh, oh. Yes. I do like that.”
He had started, and it was a longer time than he’d expected before his own urgency brought an end to the ride.
When he released her, she nearly fell asleep right there, slumped against the wall. Holding her upright with one arm, he found his own careful completion. Then he carried her to a chair and settled there until her body caught up with the passionate spirit that inhabited it.
He tried to empty his mind, but the voice in his head would not be stilled. This was the last day he would spend with Jessie. These were the last times he would make love with her. Perhaps tonight as well, but he couldn’t be sure. And then she would sleep, and he would leave, and they would never meet again.
Chapter 28
At supper that evening, Duran felt Sir Gerald Talbot’s glare against his skin like a flatiron. They were seated some distance from each other and on opposite sides of the table, Duran placed with honor at Lord Sothingdon’s left and Talbot isolated between the half-deaf Mr. Fenwick and an empty chair.
No one spoke to Talbot during the meal. He had, from all accounts, made a considerable fuss that afternoon, returning as promised with a constable and demanding that all th
e house guests and servants submit themselves for questioning. When the earl refused to cooperate, Talbot towed his befuddled constable from room to room, shooting off questions like Congreve rockets. Where is Lady Mariah? When did you see her last? Whom was she with? And eventually, Where are Lady Jessica and her scurrilous dog of a husband?
The scurrilous dog, reluctantly taking leave of his dozing wife, had arrived late to supper. He wasn’t the least bit hungry. From this point on, things would proceed rapidly, and even as he made polite conversation with his neighbors, he was running through a mental checklist of the arrangements he had made.
Jessica was to remain in Lady Sothingdon’s chamber until Talbot had retired, after which she would be escorted to her own room. Duran had ordered a meal to be prepared for her and delivered when he rang for it. With care, he would slip into her food and drink the powder obtained for him by Pageter, who reported that it was undetectable, worked imperceptibly at first, and then sent the subject into a deep sleep that lasted for several hours. Being the sort of chap he was, Pageter had tested it on himself before delivering the powder to Duran.
The tinderbox liberated from a rarely used parlor was stashed in the crawlway, along with a small wallet containing several hundred pounds in banknotes, again courtesy of Pageter. There were two ship vouchers in his pocket, for Bristol and Dartmouth. Pageter had come around. If it became necessary to flee the country with Mariah, he would try for Plymouth and had kept that voucher for himself. When Talbot was no longer a threat, Duran would bring the news and take their place aboard the ship.
He did not think it a likely outcome. Nothing short of a bullet in the head would free the Carvilles of Talbot, and he was starting to doubt his ability to fire the shot.
