“Has Julia?”
He paused, a telling moment of truth. Yes, she had, and most likely without her husband. They ran a club that drew the highest in society. Devoted to the pleasures of the flesh, mock worship of the gods of sexual congress. I knew more about it than they imagined, but that didn’t make me a prude. That made me more aware of self-respect and choice. I knew what pleased me, and I could find all of it in the well-honed body of one person.
“You should come to a meeting, Rose. Bring your husband with you or not, it doesn’t matter.” So they could have us under their control. If I went, they’d have Richard just as surely as if he’d gone by himself. They never stopped trying.
“Why should I?”
“To open yourself to new experiences. Free yourself.”
“I’m free enough.”
He frowned. “I see that haunted expression when you think no one is looking. I see your occasional hesitations when he touches you. Rose, you can’t tell me truthfully that you’re entirely happy.”
I could, but I chose not to. I wanted to know what he’d say. “My life is better than it was. What more do I need?”
“You know there are men who love seeing the body of a woman in a certain condition.”
“Pregnant, you mean?”
He flushed along his cheekbones, dark slashes of colour. He meant himself. I continued, sensing a new piece of information coming my way, and I quelled a surge of triumph so I could maintain my attitude of interested doubt. Enough to encourage him to talk, not enough to make him think he’d won me over. “Yes, I do. You are in that condition, aren’t you, Rose?”
“I imagine that becomes more obvious every day.” I hadn’t tried to hide my pregnancy. He’d been studying my figure closer than I’d thought. That made me uncomfortable, so I tried to divert the subject from me. “I’m surprised that Julia hasn’t found herself in an interesting condition.”
He sighed. “I’m not sure she can. I know I’m capable of fathering a child.”
I stared at him in shock, and he gave me a melancholy smile. “A lady of my acquaintance wished to bear her husband a child and came to me for help. No, you can’t know her name, and you won’t discover it.”
Oh, but I would. Within a week or so of sharing the information with Alicia. Servants knew everything and for the right price, so would we. But I let none of my triumph show. “And Julia is very—active.” Presiding over the Cytherean Club must be hard work. Particularly since Julia, a cold fish, did it for power, not for pleasure. Whether it was the power over her partner in bed, or power later when they could threaten him—or her—with exposure, that was her true aphrodisiac. It was the latter that Richard and I were determined to counter.
“She is. It pleases her.”
“And you’re her willing slave?”
He snorted. “Hardly. Although she does have those too.”
I wondered if his indiscretions were deliberate. On the whole, I doubted it, but I couldn’t be sure. I was sure that Julia wouldn’t appreciate these nuggets of information that he gave me, not even through a third party. I could hardly resist him. I slowed my pace and out of courtesy, he had to slow down too. “Does Julia know you did this thing? Fathered a child?”
“No. And if you tell anyone, if it becomes generally known, I’ll deny it. I can do it with conviction too. But a certain noble title now has an heir.”
I hardly needed Thompson’s to work that out. After ten years of childlessness, the Duchess of Nevers had just given birth to a healthy son. Or maybe that was what Steven wanted me to think, and the rest was wishful thinking. Or an attempt to distract me. It was possible that Julia and Steven had their targets set on us once more, and they were trying to distract us into taking our attention away from something else. Or I was out-thinking myself. So many possibilities, I could only depend on my own reactions and instincts.
Steven appeared honest, and he found dissimulation more difficult than his wife. I began with a compliment that would seem bland in other circumstances. “You seem happy with Julia. I’m glad affairs worked out for you.”
He gave me a startled look. “You can say that after last year?”
“That had nothing to do with your wife.” I glanced at the door and my attention froze. “It was him.”
Steven uttered a low curse for which I forgave him, because I had just suppressed similar sentiments. “I’d heard he’d appeared. I thought it a rumour or twisted reality.”
“Twisted is the word.”
The young man entering the room could have been a younger Richard Kerre, except to my prejudiced eyes he lacked finesse. He wore a fine brocade coat in Richard’s favourite sapphire blue, with a heavily embroidered waistcoat underneath, the brilliants catching the candlelight and making a fine display. He wore his wig with an air but pushed slightly back to reveal the gleam of pure gold hair. He glanced around the room, something Richard would never have done, and headed in our direction. His victims. I didn’t have to look to know that Richard was tracking him and probably moving closer.
I decided not to walk away or give him the cut direct. “Hold firm,” I said.
“Completely,” Steven replied, and then John was on us.
John gave me a bow so deep I considered it mocking, and his flourish left no stone unturned in its elaboration. In return, I gave him a polite nod. As his superior in age and rank, I was not required to do more. He rose and smiled at us. “So fortunate to find you here together.”
“How so?” I spread my fan, ready to deploy it.
“Since I helped you to grow so close last year, I imagine you have seen much of each other.”
“Only as old friends might,” Steven said. “We have no especial fondness for each other.”
I disliked what he said but appreciated the sentiment. Steven was moving into a defensive stance, something John would use. I wasn’t wrong.
“Oh, but I think I could help to persuade you.” He turned a face of sunny contentment on to me. “So what do I call you? Mama-in-law?”
Too crude. “Your ladyship will do. I can claim no particular relationship with you.” I didn’t add nor would I want to. I didn’t have to. He knew.
“I think we might get to know each other well. Since there’s no claim between us, does that mean I can court you as my father did once?”
Bastard. “I’m afraid I don’t accept any serious approaches. If you were accustomed to society, you would know that.”
“But it could be amusing to try. You cannot tell me I’d be the first to make the attempt to storm your walls.”
“You would suffer the same fate as all the others.” I wouldn’t let him drive me to distraction. He’d threatened me with rape and murder once, and he wanted me to remember—I could see it in the depths of his cool grey eyes. I remembered all right, and sometimes I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about it. I’d probably never forget. But now, bolstered by my training and experiences since I’d married Richard, I looked down my nose at him and flicked my fan into action with a satisfying snap. “Besides, your youth, while amusing, isn’t indicative of a promise of passion.” I knew as soon as the words left my mouth that I shouldn’t have said that.
“In fact, I’m old enough to be your son. Or your husband’s son. Isn’t that true?”
I tried to remedy the situation. Enough people stood around us conversing quietly for me to know that ears were flapping wildly and everything I said now would spread, especially if I said anything foolish. I took a second to quell my spurt of temper. “He is a father, as you know. Our daughter awaits us in her nursery.” I wanted to leave then, but Steven remained when I turned to him in an obvious hint for him to offer me his arm and usher me away. The expression of resignation on his features told me who was approaching.
“Why, Sir John!” Julia’s happy voice interrupted our reverie. At least with more people around I could get away easier. If I had shown any sign of distress, Richard would have come for me, but if he had, it woul
d have shown our discomfort and given John free rein over us both. He didn’t deserve that kind of attention. Julia gave John her hand to kiss and he performed his elaborate bow over it. Not quite as low as the one he’d bestowed on me.
“Not Sir John, ma’am, merely Mr. Kneller. Sir John was my guardian. Dear lady, such a pleasure to see you again.”
Julia shot her husband a look of such triumph I knew my initial instincts were true. All was not right between Julia and Steven.
RICHARD BUNDLED ME into a carriage as soon as he could, about half an hour after our confrontation. The night was still young for town, but I didn’t attempt to conceal my tiredness. After I had related the conversation to him, he drew my head down to his shoulder and curved one arm around me. “I’d trust your instincts over most peoples’ reasoning, my love. It’s all useful information, and soon we’ll be in a position to decide what to do.”
Chapter Six
THE DOOR SLAMMED. MY husband had come home in a temper. I glanced at Nichols. “You can go now.”
He arrived like a whirlwind but remembered to close the door quietly behind him. I smiled. “Welcome home, my lord.” I won a wry grin for my pains.
“Did I disturb you? I’m sorry.”
“I think you disturbed the people several doors down.”
“I fear not, because he has just disturbed me.” Reminded of the cause of his anger, he lost the smile.
He shucked off his heavy coat on the nearest chair. One thing I could never persuade my husband of was the need for tidiness. He saw no point at all in such a thing. After all, what were servants for?
The fire blazed in the hearth, and I had been ready for a rest with a favourite novel until it was time to dress for dinner. I mentally bade Tom Jones farewell. “So which of our neighbours has had the temerity to upset you?”
He snorted. “Pitt would disturb the devil if he thought there was political capital in it for him.”
Ah. Mr. Pitt and his wife lived farther down Brook Street, and the man was a termagant in male clothing. He had a brilliant political career, all his efforts except that of wooing and marrying the love of his life were for the good of his country and his party. He did nothing without a hidden motive, and his capacity for convoluted argument was probably only bettered by Henry Fox.
“So what political capital does he find in you?” But I guessed. If anyone could persuade Richard to use his share of Thompson’s to his good, then he would have a distinct advantage over his peers. So far, Richard had refused to agree. And as a shareholder, so did I.
Richard crossed the room to me and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You were about to rest, weren’t you? I’m sorry, my love. I should have been less precipitate.”
“Maybe. But I wasn’t resting, so pour us a dish of tea and tell me what made you so furious.”
His mouth tilted up at one corner. A good sign. “Only you know me well enough to know how disturbed he made me.” He stroked down the neckline of my gown. I had already removed the fichu, so a good amount of my skin was on display. He let his finger slide down to my cleavage but lingered there only a moment and put his attention to unhooking my gown where it fastened to my stomacher.
“Pitt caught me in the Cocoa-Tree. As luck would have it, the place wasn’t as full as usual, so he could speak freely.” He huffed a laugh and unfastened another hook. “As much as he ever does, that is. I won’t bore you with the convoluted way he got to his point.” He brushed the top part of my breast, and I shivered and half-closed my eyes, letting him see my reaction to his touch. His low purr of approval worked my arousal up another notch, set my skin tingling. Slowly, watching my face, he finished unfastening the garment before dropping it to the floor. Then he glanced down, my breasts all but revealed under the white kid stays and my shift. I breathed in and enjoyed his smile as he observed the swell.
He touched the upper surface of my left breast with one finger, gently stroking. The touch made me aware of all my skin, all my body, and what Richard could do to it.
“Soft, enticing,” he murmured, before he leaned forward and kissed me, just brushing my lips with his.
I moaned, wanting more, but I knew the game by now and I could relax and enjoy it. Barely. I also knew ways I could make him stop it. It gave me enormous pleasure to know that I could drive him out of his mind, make him lose control. I was probably the only person alive who could do that. I wondered if I could do it without his consent, but so far he’d always proved willing. More than willing.
“Go on. What did Pitt say then?” I reminded him.
He sighed. “Pitt asked how you did, how Helen did, how my parents did and then how Gervase and Ian did. He made a great point of coupling Gervase and Ian. Society knows they are more than Member of Parliament and secretary, but people are working very hard not to notice.” Gervase had learned from earlier indiscretions. That, plus his wealth, made him eminently acceptable to society these days. But he and my brother were very much in love. “He thinks to expose them publicly if I don’t fall in with his wishes. As you’ve probably guessed, he wants Thompson’s as his own private spy service.” He undid another hook, his actions deliberate, but his fingers still bearing the tremor of anger. “I’ll disband it rather than that. Thompson’s is for nobody. First the Fieldings try to coerce us, then the politicians. All for their own ends. I will not have it.”
Without pause I pulled the cord that held up my petticoat.
I watched the spark of anger in his eyes fade, replaced by the glow of arousal. “He also mentioned John Kneller. He seemed to think I cared, but I speedily disabused him of that notion.”
“What does he want? A share in Thompson’s?”
My petticoat slid to the floor with a solid thump, leaving me in stomacher, under-petticoats, hoop and shift. He dealt with the last petticoat before he spoke again. “Something more specific. The Drurys.”
I frowned. “They’re a threat to him?”
“Oh yes. You know that infernal club they’ve set up in Maiden Lane?”
I recalled it. “The Cytherean Club?”
“That’s the one. They’re filling it with notable members these days.” A chuckle. “In more ways than one. They specialise in debauchery, particularly of the bondage and punishment kind. Some people like it.” I recalled an incident with silk cravats and fichus in our own personal history and shivered. His voice lowered. “As do we, on occasion. But not in the demeaning way they practice it. Many of their activities are conducted with others looking on.”
It passed my understanding how people could engage in personal discourse with an audience. Perhaps I was just naïve, but I wanted Richard all to myself. Our personal life would remain just that.
“So there are witnesses. And some of Pitt’s allies are enjoying the Drurys’ hospitality. Julia Drury has always had ideas about control.” He made a sound of disgust. Julia was probably one of the coldest people I’d ever met, and it went far beneath the surface. Richard’s cool, cynical veneer was just that—a veneer. Not so Julia’s.
“She wants to control more than her father’s fortune. I wonder just how much of that fortune is left,” he mused, his fingers stilling on the strings of my hoop. “That aspect never occurred to me before, but with her father retired to the country and her husband’s lack of business acumen, they must be going through it at a fair rate. I shall certainly look into that.”
He resumed his actions, his agile fingers making swift work of my remaining clothing. “Pitt wants me to look into the club. Join it, in fact.” His lip curled. “Not likely. But I know they have been making inroads recently, gaining more influential members. And at the moment Pitt needs all the support he can get. In the next few years it will be either him or Fox. Or maybe both. I’d prefer both, there would be more of a balance, but I fear Pitt has outgrown his erstwhile ally. It may be as well. The next leader will probably take us to war, and the country needs a strong, determined man.”
“What of Hartington?” This was an interesti
ng time in politics. With the death of Henry Pelham-Holles, the alliance between him and his brother, the Duke of Newcastle, had ended. Now different parties were jockeying for position in the Lords and the Commons. Our neighbour in Derbyshire, Lord Hartington and his father, the Duke of Devonshire, bade fair to control the Lords, but Fox and Pitt were still fighting it out in the Commons. Any advantage, in or out of the House was a great victory, and Thompson’s would be a jewel in the crown of either party.
“Hartington will soon be Devonshire. His father is, I fear, too ill to recover this time.” Richard had me almost naked now, standing before him in shift and stockings. I determined to redress the balance and fingered the buttons on his waistcoat. He smiled and watched me, his hands resting on my waist. “I will investigate the Cytherean Club, but for our own sake rather than anyone else’s.”
“You will join?” I hated to think of him in that place, although I knew he had indulged in that and similar activities in the past.
“I will make enquiries. However, I promise—”
I laid my finger over his lips to prevent him speaking. “You don’t have to promise me anything, because I know.” He wouldn’t betray me or what we shared.
He kissed my fingers and drew back a little. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
I moved closer to him, felt the smooth silk of his waistcoat under my cheek. “Soon.”
He chuckled. “My love, you’re shameless.”
“Hardly. And in any case, you like me that way.”
“I adore you any way.”
I loved the flame burning deep in his eyes, demonstrating his desire for me.
Then I decided it was time Richard showed some flesh and pushed his waistcoat off his shoulders. He released me long enough to let it fall. That was my declaration of intent. The neckcloth came next, and he drew the long strip of fine fabric through his hands, watching me closely. I swallowed. I wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but I had some ideas, and if they matched his, gentle lovemaking would be off the cards this afternoon.
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