Legendary Lover (6 page)

The delicious food helped to soothe her resentments, as did her refreshing bath and the lush spring morning. She was able to review the evening with less bitterness—with none, after her third cup of chocolate.

After all, she reflected in her more benign humor, she'd been well sated, luxuriantly, lavishly by a man who knew exactly what a woman wanted. She smiled faintly at the heated memory. And if one wished to be utterly practical, she was now fully replete after a year of celibacy.
Definitely a charming benefit.

She sighed. A shame one had to always deal with male egos.

Leaving instructions with her maid to be wakened at one, she lay down and went to sleep instantly.

But her sleep was restless, her dreams of a dark-haired
m
an with smiling eyes and a ravishing sexual expertise. Fevered, tantalized, she dreamed of that ravishment, softly moaned as she felt his hands and his body giving her pleasure, tossed and turned in the grip of his enchanting sorcery, until she came awake at her maid's call with a start of surprise.

Glancing down, she saw she was in her own bed.

And softly cursed Jack Fitz-James's much-used talents.

JACK
 
DIDN'T
SLEEP,
 
OR IT
 
SEEMED AS
 
THOUGH

he
hadn't slept when Ned came calling and woke him.

"Go away," Jack muttered as Ned pulled back the drapes and let the sun into his bedchamber.

"Rise and shine! We've an appointment to see some prime horseflesh at
Tattersall's
." He jerked another drape open and moved to the next window.

"Go without me." The marquis's voice was muffled by the pillow he'd pulled over his head.

"Lord Simon is selling his racers. And you want that big black of his. Or
last I heard, you did
. I suppose we can let
Blandford
buy it instead."

Ned's gibe elicited a string of oaths from under the pillow.

"Is that a yes or a no?" Lord Darlington cheerfully
queried,
when he knew very well Jack would crawl a hundred miles rather than let Edward
Dunlow
buy a horse he wanted. "Maurice is sending up very black coffee, but don't hurry, we still have twenty minutes."

"Someday I'm going to strangle you." The words were utterly clear now, for Jack had flung the pillow at Ned.

"Watch my hair, damn you!" Ned yelped, smoothing
his sleek blond hair behind his ears. Vain of his overlong curls, he fancied himself an amateur poet in the mold of Lord Byron, although his poetry was intended more to impress the ladies than to express a sincere interest.

Fully awake now, the marquis rose from his bed with a sigh, feeling more fatigued than when he'd gone to sleep. But knowing
Tattersall's
wouldn't wait, he moved toward his dressing room. "Thanks for reminding me of that black." He yawned and stretched. "I just wish like hell it wasn't so early."

"It's past one, Jack," Ned said, following him. "Since when did you need more than a couple hours of sleep?"

"Since last night apparently.
I'm exhausted."

"Is that my opening to say, 'And why is that?' I hear you and Miss
Duras
disappeared for several hours last night."

The marquis pushed the dressing room door open. "Lord God, this town is restricted in its interests."

"But you entertain us all so well, my boy. What would the gossip mills do if you decided to take up fishing instead?"

"Maybe I will," Jack muttered, walking over to the special shower-bath he'd installed in his home and turning on the tap. "I'll move to the country."

His friend chuckled. "That would elicit huge odds at Brookes. Mostly on how long you'd last in the country."

Shdoting
his companion a black look, the marquis stepped inside the tower-shaped framework composed of numerous pipes spouting water from hundreds of perforations. Standing under the hot water, he wondered how much he really wanted Lord Simon's black. He was tired or weary or both, and still surly about the events of the previous night.

He'd probably drunk too much. He didn't allow himself to admit a craving for the lovely Miss
Duras
. Such an admission would set his comfortable life at risk.

"Have you fallen asleep in there?"

Ned's brusque query disrupted his discontent. "I
do
need to sleep one of these nights," he grumbled, lifting his face to the overhead spray.

"After
Tattersall's
," Ned briskly replied. "Once we're finished with the auction, we'll go and see if Mme.
Robuchon
has any new girls, and you can nap there. Ah, here's Maurice with our coffee."

(9he men reached the auction house just
as the first lot came on the block, and then waited for nearly an hour before the black Jack wanted was brought forward.

The bidding was furious. The horse had taken a dozen firsts last year. But those with lesser fortunes fell away before too long, and Jack and Lord
Blandford
brought the sum up to staggering levels in short order.

The marquis didn't care how much he paid for the racer. His nabob wealth had come from the East India Company in the last century, although the Fitz-
Jameses
had been equally well endowed by Charles
II's
generosity to his mistress. And as one of the largest landowners in Gloucestershire, the family had never worried about money. Additionally, Jack had invested in railroads very early. He could buy a dozen Lord
Blandfords
without bringing a sweat to his bankers' brows.

Deciding to finish the bidding, Jack offered ten thousand over
Blandford's
last bid, and Edward
Dunlow's
face turned black with fury.

"Damn you,
Redvers
. I need that horse in my stable," he raged.

"Then you should have stayed the course," Jack calmly remarked.

"As you did with the French lady last night.
How long did you ride her?"

"I went home early last night,
Blandford
, and if you wish to question my word on the matter, name your seconds."

The Earl of
Blandford
wasn't known for his courage. A small, rawboned man, he preferred his footmen fight his battles. "Fuck you,
Redvers
."

"You're not my type. Perhaps if I'm drunk enough, we could talk," Jack drawled.

"Maybe the French lady would welcome other suitors,"
Blandford
spitefully suggested.

"Be my guest,
Blandford
. She's quite capable of making her own decisions on suitors." But despite his casual reply, he had to restrain an urge to knock down the bloody sod. As if he'd let the damned bastard touch Venus, he thought, thin-skinned and moody.

Fortunately, the auction clerk approached him then, or he would have had to question his novel feelings of possession.

Chapter
5
        
esae
           

Venus hadn't expected the duchess to
accompany
her serving men, but there she was riding beside the driver of the dray wagon when the vehicle arrived in
Belgrave
Square. Dressed in a plain natural linen gown and a utilitarian straw bonnet, bereft of her usual heavy layers of rouge, the duchess looked as though she were planning on working along with her men.

Venus greeted her with a smile, charmed by the old lady who viewed work as a feasible activity.
A rare instance for those in the fashionable world.

"Come ride with me," Peggy offered, making room for Venus on the broad, wide seat. "And give Will directions to the warehouse."

Leaving her majordomo standing dumbfounded on the pavement, Venus climbed up onto the high seat of the wagon with help from one of Peggy's men and, seating herself beside the duchess, found herself in extreme good humor. "How nice to see you again," she said. "I didn't realize you wished to help."

"I look forward to doing something productive for a change. Teas and visiting and parties become wearisome after a time."

"Don't they, now," Venus agreed. And after giving directions to the driver, the ladies discussed the two hospitals Venus was financing in Paris. The duchess queried her on a number of details, not content to simply give her money to a charity and feel that she'd done her duty. She was even more impressed with Venus after she'd disclosed the number of patients who were treated each day at the charity hospitals.

"My heavens, with that many patients, your expenses must be considerable. Did Jack send his bank draft yet?" the duchess inquired.

"No, but it's not necessary. I'm sure he was only being polite. My family has resources enough."

"Additional funds are always useful, my dear. I'll see that some others of my friends help out as well. And if you'd be so kind and give my steward some advice on how to begin such a project, I think I'd very much like to do the same here."

"One feels an enormous sense of accomplishment at seeing a small child cured, or a young mother given adequate care during birthing, or an injured workman who would otherwise be invalided nursed back to health. I derive great pleasure from my work, although my parents sometimes think I should lighten my schedule."

"You're young and energetic. Why not do what you like when you have vigor. I still recall my days on the stage with great delight, although we worked long hours in sometimes difficult conditions. But I wouldn't have given up the experience for all of Cyril's money."

"Jack said last night that yours was a love match.
How wonderful."

"Cyril was the most perfect of men. I consider myself
very fortunate to have found him in this rough-and-tumble world."

"Have you been alone long?" Venus didn't wish to pry into the details of the duke's death should the memory be painful.

"Ten years now, and I still miss him every day. He ignored his family's outrage to marry me. He was very brave."

"He was very fortunate, I think."

"We both were much in love for forty years. Tell me of
your
family. Everyone knows of your father and grandfather. Do you have brothers and sisters? I'm told your mother's from Kent."

For the remainder of the journey to the warehouse, the women spoke of their families. The duchess had two children born late in her marriage. Her son was currently in Egypt on a desert trek, while her daughter, married to a diplomat, was posted in Vienna.

"They'll both be back in England this fall. Do you intend a lengthy visit?" the duchess asked.

Venus shook her head.
"Another fortnight, perhaps a month, but no more.
I came to buy some of the new equipment displayed at the Great Exhibit, and once I've accomplished my task, I'll return to Paris."

"You and Julia would have suited wonderfully, although she's somewhat older than you. She believes in independence for women, you see, although I can't imagine where she acquired such radical notions." The duchess's smile was teasing. "And should my son show the faintest inkling of taking a wife someday, I'd try to induce you to stay and meet him. Although his father was nearing forty when we married," she reflected. "I suppose Geoffrey feels he still has ten years before he
needs to take a wife. Julia's given me my wonderful grandchildren, for which I'm grateful. If I were to wait for my son to produce an heir," she said with a small sigh, "I'd be long dead."

Wishing to keep the conversation on a happier note, Venus asked the duchess about her grandchildren and was regaled for the remainder of the journey with their glowing achievements.

The ladies spent the afternoon overseeing the re-
moval
of the supplies from the warehouse to the
Duras's
ship, and once their task was completed, the duchess cajoled Venus into returning to her home for tea. "No need to dress, my dear. We'll be quite alone. And you haven't seen my garden yet, so I won't take no for an answer."

After the duchess's generous donation and help, it would have been difficult to refuse, but Venus found her likable as well. "If you promise I shan't have to meet anyone of fashion in this dirty gown," she replied, trying to brush a smudge from her skirt.

"Only my own fashionable self, my dear."
The duchess spread her arms wide, displaying her own dusty gown, smiling as she might have years ago on Drury Lane's stage.

"Then 1 accept with pleasure, although 1 warn you, I'm extremely hungry. I'll make a shambles of your sweets and sandwiches."

"How shocking," the duchess said in mock horror.
"A woman who eats.
My female acquaintances all nibble like so many, tame squirrels. Do you like lemon-curd tarts?"

"I adore anything with lemon curd."

"I do think we must be related." The duchess patted
Venus's hand. "Come now, we'll have Will drive us back."