Legendary Lover (29 page)

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"Similar."

"But the Palmers won't be paid off."

"It doesn't look that way. Austin isn't hopeful."

"That ass Palmer
has pretensions, that's
why. He wants to wash off the stench of the brewery and thinks your title will take away the smell."

"He's wrong. But it looks as though I'll be going to court to prove that to him."

"That'll cost you a pretty penny."

"A price I much prefer to that of marrying his daughter."

She looked at him from under her lashes. "Have any plans to marry someone else?"

"You're wasting your time, Peggy. Venus doesn't want to marry any more than I do. I told you not to play matchmaker."

His godmother gave a dramatic sigh. "You can't blame an old lady for trying."

He chuckled. "Look at it this way, Peggy. I'm just giving you an opportunity to try again with someone else."

"But I like Venus."

"A shame you can't marry her, then."

She didn't reply, her expression causing him a strange unease.

"Don't interfere in my life, Peggy. I'm warning you."

"Have I ever interfered in your life?" she innocently inquired.

"At least ten thousand times, but I'm telling you, not this time, Peggy. I mean it."

"Whatever you want, dear," she sweetly replied.

"When I hear that tone of voice, all the barricades go

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up
. You're not going to be able to touch me on this one."

"I'm sure you're right."

"I
am
right."

"Yes, dear."

When she said
yes, dear
like that, he was clearly warned. He'd have to talk to his staff and Austin to make sure she didn't ask them to carry out any commissions in his name. But it still left his godmother
as a
loose cannon in his life.

He'd have to be particularly wary.

followed a pattern typical of most wealthy young bachelors who were suffering doubts. He denied rumors both
o{
his involvement with Venus and of his imminent nuptials with Sarah Palmer, refused invitations to society functions, and spent most of his time in the brothels. He preferred Mme.
Robuchon's
, where he could usually be found once he left the card games at Brookes, although on those days when he found he couldn't sleep, he often held court on one of Lucy's pink satin sofas, greeting those who liked their pleasure early.

After the first night at Lucy's, when he'd sent his favorite courtesan away after no more than a few kisses, everyone understood he wasn't there for the women. Lucy's served as a safe haven from those who were inclined to ask too many questions he either didn't care to answer or couldn't.

His drinking by the end of the week had sufficiently blurred the potent images of Venus to more manageable

256

levels
, and when a blond woman approached him, he no longer started.

Ned kept him company at times, and Austin tracked him down twice when he needed signatures or procedural questions answered, but Jack wasn't truly looking for company so much as oblivion. Lucy, middle-aged and motherly, saw that he was fed, coaxing him to eat when he didn't wish it, inviting him into her private quarters occasionally to sleep when he hadn't gone home.

Later in the week, after one of those nights when he'd not found his way back to
Redvers
House, he woke on the chaise in her sitting room, unshaven, moody, and looking for a drink. Seated at her desk across the small room, she gazed at him with concern. Should she call his servants to come for him?

"Don't you think you've brooded long enough?" she asked.

"Not brooding," Jack muttered, lifting a bottle to her in salute. "Just happen to be damned bored."

"Maybe you need a change of scene.
Somewhere other than my place."

The marquis offered her a rare smile. "Are you kicking me out, Lucy?
After we've been friends for so long?"

"Go to the country. Breathe some fresh air, clear your head of what's bothering you."

"But then she was in the country with me." He shook his head. "Not a good idea."

"If you're missing a woman, you won't find her in that bottle."

"Don't want to find her."

"Are you sure?"

*57

"Now there's the question of the hour." Raising the bottle to his mouth, he drank deeply.

Jack's reaction to any thought of commitment wasn't uncommon among the young bucks she knew. But if he needed distraction, there were alternatives to drinking himself to death. "Why don't you go fishing?" she suggested. Everyone knew of Jack's love of the sport.

"Can't.
She was with me there, too."

"From the sounds of it, you'll have to build some new homes."

"Won't I just," he muttered.

"Why don't I have your carriage sent to take you home?"

"We've known each other a long time, haven't we?" Jack said with a contemplative look, ignoring her question.

She nodded with a lift of her brows.

"And I've spent a good deal of money here."

"You've always been one of my best clients."

"So tell me, Lucy, what's happened to me now that I don't want to touch another woman?"

"Do you want the truth, or something politic?"

His eyes went shut and for a moment she thought he'd fallen back to sleep. "I don't know if I want the truth," he quietly said, his long lashes lifting, the directness of his gaze startling.

"I think I'll tell you, anyway, because you're killing yourself and it's a waste."

He held his hand up, palm out. "Don't."

"Go and find her, tell her you love her, marry her, and start a family so you'll have someone to go fishing with, and I won't have to see you in here again."

"That's not very sociable."

2
₅
8

"We've had enough sociable moments in the last ten years. Find something better to do."

"Good advice, I'm sure," he drawled.

She reached for the bell pull. "You'll thank me someday."

"Are you throwing me out?"

The rap on the door was almost instantaneous. The burly man who entered the room a moment later looked capable of taking on an armed regiment.

"I'm sending you to your wedding."

The marquis grinned.
"Which one?"

"Not the Palmer chit, you can be sure. I don't allow Lord Palmer in here anymore. The man's vulgar to the bone."

"So it seems.
And greedy."

"I'll expect a wedding
invitation,
although you needn't worry I'll come. But the girls will love to see it."

"Slow down, Lucy.
I'm not even sure what day it is."

"Sully will tell you on the way home. See that Lord
Redvers
is escorted inside his house," she directed.

"Don't trust me not to bolt to the next brothel?"

"Tell Lord
Redvers's
butler that the marquis is thinking about getting married," she said to her bodyguard. She and Jack's butler, Maurice, were well acquainted, after seeing to Jack's safety and comfort for years.

"What makes you think I'll take your advice? I can stand by myself, Sully, thank you very much," he said, brushing away the man's assistance. "And she doesn't want to get married anyway," he added, bowing gracefully to Lucy. "So you may not get your wedding invitation."

"If I was a betting woman, which I'm not, I'd bet a thousand or two on the lady saying yes."

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"I have to ask her first."

"So hurry out of here and see that you do."

"Are you my mother?"

"I could have been, if your father wasn't such a brute and a bastard. Luckily his blood doesn't run true in you."

"Thanks for the reassurance. And you would have been a much nicer mother than the one I had."

"Thank you, dear. Now, I'm waiting for that invitation. Send us one of those big ones, bordered in gold."

Jack laughed out loud for the first time in days. "I'll get Maurice on it right away. And I don't need Sully for a duenna. I can find my own way home."

But Lucy nodded at her bodyguard, and as Jack left the room, Sully followed him.

(
fS
/OU
HAVE A VISITOR IN YOUR STUDY, MY LORD,"

Maurice said after Jack had been duly escorted inside, after Sully had delivered his message and left. "I told him you weren't home, nor did I expect you soon, but he wouldn't leave. When I ascertained his mission, sir, I had a note dispatched to you at Madame
Robuchon's
. Would you like to bathe and change first? Are congratulations in order?"

"No," the marquis retorted with a dismissive wave of his
hahd
- "Congratulations are not in order. And I must have missed your message in transit. Who is the man and why is he here?" There was no trace of dissipation or drunkenness in Jack's demeanor; he held his liquor well.

"A most fortuitous visitor, sir
, having
to do with the young Sarah Palmer. He's her dancing master." Mau-

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rice's
brows rose in expressive insinuation. "You'll find his information extremely enlightening."

"Bring coffee into my study. I'll see him now."

"Excellent, sir.
I've also undertaken to summon Mr. Watts, should you need him."

Jack's eyes widened in speculation at the mention of his barrister.
"It's that good?"

"I think you'll find his revelations most welcome, my lord."

"What's his name?" Jack asked, already moving down the corridor, Maurice keeping pace at his side.

"A Mr.
Vincenzo
Dossi
."

"And he knows Sarah?"

"Intimately."

A slow smile lifted the corners of Jack's mouth. "You don't say."

"He's most eager to tell you that."

"Why?
Money?"

"I believe he's in love, sir."

Jack's laugh echoed down the hall. "Poor sod."

/
Khen
jack entered his
study,
vincenzo
sprang to his feet, his pose belligerent, his eyes fierce with temper.

"First, thank you for coming," Jack pleasantly said, his humor greatly improved since speaking to Maurice.

"I didn't do it for you."

"I understand. Please, sit down. Maurice is bringing coffee. Tell me what you want." Jack motioned him to a chair near the windows.

"I don't want anything from you." Indignant that

26l

Jack should think him mercenary,
Vincenzo
glared at him.

"Let me rephrase that. What can I do for you? And you might as well sit. I won't be able to think straight until I have some coffee."

"You can't have her. She's mine,"
Vincenzo
proclaimed, dropping into a chair, a frown drawing his brows together.

"Just for clarity, let's use names. I don't want to misunderstand anything." Anything this important, Jack thought, exhilarated by the promise of deliverance from the Palmers.

"I'm speaking of Sarah Palmer. You can't marry her. She's having my baby."

"You're sure?"

"Positive, although she's intent on having your title for my child."

"I'm extremely grateful for this information. Would you be willing to testify to this in court?"

"Would it stop the marriage?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I'll do it."

Jack's sigh of relief was audible.

"Only because I want to marry her myself."

"How does Sarah feel about that?"
Jack diplomatically inquired, relatively certain of the answer.

"
She
.says she loves me." The young man's voice was adamant. "But her family won't hear of—"

Maurice entered at that point with the coffee tray. Once he'd poured coffee for the men and departed, they resumed their conversation.

"You're a dancing master, Maurice tells me," Jack tactfully noted.

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"It's a reputable occupation,"
Vincenzo
defiantly asserted. "My family is respectable, and as well born as the Palmers."

"Lord Palmer disagrees, I presume."

"I haven't spoken to him, but according to Sarah her parents require she marry well, and she only has eyes for a marchioness's coronet. She said I could still be her lover after she's married to you."

"Really?" the marquis said with a dangerous calm.

"I told her I would refuse."

"Did your determination alter her intentions?"

Vincenzo's
face fell. "I don't know. She very much wants to be rich."

Rapidly calculating the cost of a court case, along with a possible settlement for the Palmers should they prove recalcitrant, Jack decided
Vincenzo
might offer better value for the money. "Would Sarah be amenable to a marriage offer from you, should you have an income of, say, ten thousand a year?"

Vincenzo
almost dropped his coffee cup. Quickly recovering, he breathlessly said, "Pounds, my lord?" Lire were considerably less valuable.

"Yes, pounds. If you were to take her off my hands, I would be grateful, more than grateful—ecstatic."

"I'll ask her, but she's strongly influenced by her father and her aunt, Lady
Tallien
."

Jack knew exactly how little ten thousand pounds a year would mean to either of them when weighed against his fortune. Other inducements were definitely in order. "If you could convince Sarah of your new wealth, and if she loved you enough, perhaps you could persuade her to elope. As a wedding gift, I'd be happy to give you a villa I own in Florence."