Her eyelids flickered and she looked up at him.
“Come with me to Cornwall,” he said.
She couldn’t believe it. He must have said something else. While she was trying to decide what to reply, he picked up the rhythm, the hard length of him sliding deeper inside her with each thrust. Amazingly her body began gathering itself up for another leap into ecstasy. She wrapped her legs about his lean hips and pushed back.
He smiled. There were beads of sweat on his face, and he looked pale. This couldn’t be good for him, she thought belatedly. He had been ill only a short time ago—he was probably still ill. “Perhaps you should stop now,” she panted.
“Not yet.”
He lifted his chest higher off her and grasped her thighs in his big hands, lifting her up and opening her wide, and then he came up on his knees above her and drove himself into her with exquisite expertise.
Marietta raised her head and took one look at him slipping in and out of her, and the lights burst inside her head again. She arched up, her voice louder, almost a…well, a scream.
He let himself go, driving hard, and crying out as his body released.
Marietta was beyond exhaustion, but it was a nice feeling. She knew she didn’t have a bone left in her body that hadn’t turned to water, and she couldn’t have raised a finger. Just as well Max was there to lift her in his strong arms and carry her over to the vast apricot satin-swathed bed.
“Poor darling,” he whispered, “desire is very fatiguing. And, as you will find out soon enough, very, very addictive.”
The bed was feather soft and the coverings were softer and she snuggled in with a sigh. She was almost asleep before she realized he was back again, and although she knew it was Max, dressed in his black coat and white shirt, he seemed like a stranger, this man who had used her so expertly and so well. Someone else entirely.
He bent over her, and kissed her brow, gently. “Marry me and come live with me at Blackwood,” he said, and this time she could not be mistaken. Her eyes opened just enough to meet his, and see that he was deadly serious, and then they closed again.
When she woke up much later, Max was gone.
Aphrodite looked up as Max entered the salon. He looked the perfect gentleman, although his hair was a little rumpled, and his necktie slightly askew. He caught her eye and gestured to a private alcove on one side of the room. Frowning, she excused herself from her cluster of guests, and made her way toward him. He took her hand and bowed over it, a wry smile twisting his handsome face and his dark eyes apologetic.
And she knew something had changed.
Her heart turned cold with fear for her child, but somehow she managed to keep a smile on her face.
“Your daughter says she is ruined, Madame, and that she wants to be a courtesan.”
“That is so, my lord.”
“I want to marry her.”
She closed her eyes and opened them again, but the handsome Lord Roseby was still standing there, his gaze frank and a little amused—as if he mocked himself for his own words.
“I don’t think Marietta would agree to that…Max,” she said bluntly. “May I call you Max?”
“Of course.”
“My daughter has sworn off love and marriage. She has her heart set on following in my footsteps.” But she was watching him as closely as he was watching her. One would have thought Max Valland had enough problems of his own. It was reckless of him to fix his sights on the daughter of a courtesan who had already disgraced herself once and was threatening to do so again, but Aphrodite wasn’t as surprised as she pretended.
“Maybe, but I can change her mind,” he said.
“Maybe you can, but all the same I doubt your family will be as eager as you to claim her as their own. I had heard that when your cousin Harold discovered who she was, he barred her from your house.”
Ah, he hadn’t known that then. She watched the anger come and go in his face, as he put it aside to be dealt with later.
“Madame, I admit I am no great catch as a husband,” he began, a bleak little smile on his mouth. “If you had any doubts about my current situation then let me put you straight. I have very little money, I have been disinherited and have lost my lands and titles, and my prospects for regaining them are…nil. On the positive side, I have property in Cornwall—my mother’s gift to me—and plans to make it pay, I am young and healthy, and I would treat your daughter with the utmost respect. I know this does not sound like much, but surely,” he bit his lip, as if he was uncertain how to proceed without causing offense.
Aphrodite, who was fairly certain she already knew what he was going to say, waited.
“Surely it would be far better for Marietta to marry me and live with me in Cornwall, no matter how little we had, than to become a courtesan.”
She raised an elegant eyebrow at him. “Are you planning to save her from herself, my lord? I would think you would know better.”
He gave an apologetic shrug. “I’m sorry. I mean no disrespect, Madame, but I have come to know Marietta and she is not the sort of woman who could live such a life. It would destroy her.”
Aphrodite relented. “It is possible that I agree with you, Max, although if you tell Marietta that I will deny it. My daughter’s heart is generous and easily broken, and, yes, I do worry for her. But she is also a woman of strong character and she is determined on her course of action. You may find it difficult to persuade her to accept your proposal, no matter how well meant.”
Max frowned, glancing over her head into the salon where a number of eyes were watching them curiously.
“Is that why you are thinking of marrying her? Because you wish to be the hero and ride your charger to her rescue?”
He met her gaze. “At first, yes, I suppose that did cross my mind. I wanted to talk her out of being a courtesan, but she wouldn’t listen. She has been too badly hurt to easily trust again. I see now that the only way to make her happy is to teach her that she need not fear to love, that here is a man who will never let her down. If she would marry me and come to Cornwall, I am certain she would not regret it.”
“I see.” Aphrodite wasn’t sure that she did. “Tell me, Max, do you love my daughter? Or do you just want her body?”
Max felt uncomfortable. Aphrodite’s eyes were dark and penetrating and he wasn’t used to a woman speaking to him so frankly. Apart from Marietta, that is—was this where she had inherited her forthrightness? The truth was he didn’t know whether he loved her or not; he had never been in love.
“We are both victims of scandal,” he said at last. “We can find solace in each other. We are well suited, I think, and I know we could be happy together. Is that love? Perhaps.”
Aphrodite gave a little smile, and kept her counsel.
“I should tell you,” Max went on, “that she and I have been intimate in a physical way. We are lovers in every sense of the word and I do not think either of us is capable of halting matters now.”
It was as she had feared. The temporary affair was no longer a light-hearted matter; it was a full-blown, passionate amour between two people—a grandee passion—and such things were far more difficult to control. It could well end in heartbreak for one, or both, of them. Or it could end in a joyous marriage.
Aphrodite had met Max a number of times, but she had never looked upon him as a prospective son-in-law. She did so now. Outwardly he was handsome and well made. She knew he was a gentleman, and there had never been any unsavory gossip about him. In short he was as good and honest as it was possible for a duke’s son to be—almost too good and honest to be true. It was a pity he had been disinherited…Marietta had said something about him being hurt, about there being danger, and Jemmy had been looking into the attack outside the club…Aphrodite frowned.
“My daughter thinks you are under threat, that someone has been attempting to harm you, Max. Is that true?”
“Marietta and I do not agree on everything.”
“How tedious if you d
id.”
“Madame, I am aware that I am not the ideal husband for your daughter, but I do not mean to idle my life away as if I were still heir to my father’s dukedom. I am…liberated,” he smiled, “and I am not afraid to dirty my hands in good honest work. I believe that if I have a wife and family then I will have all the more reason to strive harder.”
“If you were a better catch you probably wouldn’t have given Marietta a second glance, my lord. Would the disgraced daughter of a courtesan be on your list of possible wives if you were still in line to inherit?”
“I don’t know the answer to that question, how can I?” Ah yes, he was honest. “But I do know that now that I have met Marietta no other woman will do.”
Aphrodite was beginning to feel exhausted, but his words were so heartfelt they made her laugh and clap her hands. “Very good, Max! The perfect answer! Tell me, where is my daughter now? Is she waiting out in the hall?”
“I put her to bed, she’s asleep.”
“Mon dieu!” she hissed. Then, reluctantly, “Very well. I will consider your offer. But it is not I you should be trying to persuade—I am already convinced—it is Marietta. There lies your difficulty.”
He looked startled that she was so clearly on his side. “Thank you, Madame. Could I ask one more favor of you? Please don’t tell Marietta that you know I wish to marry her. I think, if she is aware you are amenable to the idea, she will feel as if I have conspired against her and want to run as far away from me as she can.”
“Yes, yes, all right,” Aphrodite answered him impatiently. “I think I know my daughter as well as you, and I will say nothing to her. But be warned, if you hurt her, Max—”
“Believe me, hurting her is the last thing I would ever do.”
Again Aphrodite noted his sincerity and then nodded a dismissal. As Max left the salon, she called Dobson over and told him to follow, as an added precaution, to make certain that this time Max was put into a hansom without incident.
“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.
Rules of Passion Page 22
