Loving Lord Ash (29 page)

“Well, most people will at least pretend to give you the benefit of the doubt. No one wants to offend the Duke and Duchess of Greycliffe—current or future. It would be social suicide.” She frowned, suddenly looking rather fierce. “And believe me, the duke may appear pleasant and somewhat mild mannered, but everyone knows he will brook no insult to his family.”

That was lovely, except many people would say
she
was the insult. Certainly anyone who believed Percy’s stories would say so. Kit would . . .

The duchess patted her arm. “Don’t look so bleak. You and Ash are together now. That is something to be very happy about.”

“But we’re not, Your Grace. Not really.” She bit her lip. She must not confess everything to the duchess, no matter how sympathetic a listener she seemed.

“I mean you are finally in the same location. That is much better than the foolish way Ash has had you live miles away all these years. I don’t know what he was thinking, and of course he wouldn’t discuss it with me or his father.”

Kit’s mother sighed. “Young people! If they would only listen to wiser heads . . . But I suppose when I was young I felt the same way.” She laughed. “Only my parents had their heads stuck in ancient Greek texts all the time. If I’d asked them for advice, they would have directed me to Plato.” Her lips slid into a sly smile. “However, if you would care for some suggestions, I’d be happy to give you copies of my
Love Notes
.”

“Ah.” Jess was not about to admit she already had a collection of the papers. “Well . . .”

“Splendid! I’ll get them for you once we are done with Madame Celeste, whom we should probably be getting back to.”

She stood, so Jess stood, too, but the duchess made no move to leave. Instead she took Jess’s hands again. “As I’m sure you know, Jess, Ash can be very stubborn. But then, men are often blind when it comes to matters of the heart, aren’t they? We women must show them the way.”

Jess looked longingly at the door. She would dearly love to make her way out of this conversation, but Kit’s mother wasn’t finished.

“The duke and I are both hoping you two can manage to overcome your differences.” She leaned forward slightly, her expression intent, and her grip on Jess’s hands tightened. “We will do anything we can to help. And do not think it is because we wish to see the succession assured. Ash has not been happy for a long time, Jess. Not since he came home from leaving you at the manor.”

“Oh, surely you are wrong, Your Grace.”

“No, I’m not.” The duchess suddenly grinned and let go of Jess’s hands. “But at least now I’m hopeful.” She finally started for the door. “Now let us go see if Madame Celeste can make you a wardrobe that will charm the ton and seduce that blockheaded husband of yours.”

Chapter Sixteen

Men would rather die than admit
they need marital advice.

—Venus’s Love Notes

“Drew!” Venus had spent the last fifteen minutes searching for her husband. She’d only climbed the stairs to the old nursery in desperation, never guessing that’s where he’d hidden himself.

Drew sighed and stood to greet her. “Yes, Venus?”

“I’ve been looking all over for you.” She frowned at the book in his hands. “Are you reading that Peloponnesian War tome again?”

He smiled a touch wistfully. “I am trying to.”

Typical. Trust Drew to hide when there was work of the matchmaking variety to be done.

“Well, this is no time for idle reading.” She closed the door behind her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been up here. She looked around. The room was a bit dusty and faded, but it brought back wonderful memories of when her sons had been young. “Oh, Drew, isn’t it splendid that we’ll have a baby in the family again?”

“Yes. And even more splendid that it will not be ours. Babies are a lot of work.”

“But worth every minute.” Drew might pretend to be unmoved, but she knew he was just as delighted as she was. “We’ll be using this nursery again.” She looked around once more. “I think the curtains need to be replaced.”

“Quite likely.”

“And there is only one comfortable chair.” They would need at least two—one for her and one for Drew. Well, and others for the nursery maid and Ellie and Ned. The room was large; it wouldn’t be too crowded.

“You are welcome to it.” He eyed the sheaf of papers in her hand. “I see you have brought your own reading material.”

She laughed. This was going to be the tricky part. “Oh, no. This is for you.”

Drew knew her too well. His brows shot up, and then he got what she’d come to call his wary expression. “Thank you, but as you can see”—he lifted Thucydides—“I have plenty to keep me busy.”

She walked closer, smiling. Drew backed up, frowning, until he bumped up against the mantel.

“Well, it’s not for you precisely. It’s for Ash.”

“Then why don’t you give it to him yourself?”

“He’d much rather get it from you.”

“If that is true, then I venture to say he’d much rather not get it at all.”

Likely Drew was right about that. “Well, perhaps he’ll be unenthusiastic at first, but I’m sure he’ll thank you later.”

Drew was not convinced. “That sounds like something you say before administering a purge.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Though now that he mentioned it . . . “However, I do think a dose of this information might cure whatever ails Ash’s marriage.”

Drew’s jaw hardened. “Venus, I am not going to discuss Ash’s marriage with him.”

How could he say that? Didn’t he want Ash to be happy? “But he’s your son. I’m sure if I had a daughter, I would have a frank discussion about marital matters with her.”

“You do not have a daughter, so we cannot put that theory to the test. Besides, men are not like women. We do not discuss such things.”

She’d overheard enough male conversations to know differently. “Of course you do. You just use cruder words and snigger a lot. And the discussions are usually not about wives.”

Drew’s eyes widened. “Good God, Venus, how did you form that opinion?”

“I eavesdrop at society events, of course. It’s one of my main ways of identifying suitable matches.” She smiled. “People seem to think if they can’t be seen, they can’t be heard. They say some of the most amazing things. For example, just the other night, old Lady Pentworth was standing behind some potted palms in Lord Eddington’s ballroom, telling—”

“Stop!” Drew threw up his hands, clutching Thucydides like a shield to block her words. “I do not wish to hear what Lady Pentworth said.”

“But you would be most diverted. She’s such a hunched-over, ancient thing, and yet she and Lord Eddington—”

He now had his forehead pressed against his book. He looked as if he might be in pain. “No. Please. Spare me. I shall have nightmares for weeks if you continue.”

She giggled. “Very well. I promise not to tell you, if you promise to give this to Ash.” She extended her papers again.

He lowered his book to glare at them as if they were a nest of vipers. “Blackmail, my dear duchess, does not become you.” But he put Thucydides down and took them. His mouth tightened as he read the title. “
How to Woo Your Wife?
Good God!”

“It’s something new I’ve been working on. The
Love Notes
are very popular, but they are really more for women. Men can use marital advice as well.”

Drew raised an eyebrow.

“Except you, of course.” And that was almost true. “Actually, I was hoping you might read it through and give me your suggestions for making it more useful.” She smiled. “You being a man, you know.”

He bowed slightly. “I’m so glad you noticed, but no, I shall not be reading this. I cannot think Ash will read it either.”

“But it has lots of good advice!” How could she help men find love if they wouldn’t open their minds to new ideas? It was all very well to make a match, but marriage required more than a wedding. It was a journey two people took together, and if it was going to be a pleasant journey, both the man and the woman had to work to keep the spark burning.

There was still a spark between Ash and Jess. She could feel it. But it was in grave danger of going out if they didn’t resolve whatever it was that was keeping them apart. And she would swear one of the things keeping them apart involved the bedchamber. She couldn’t put her finger on why she thought so, but she trusted her instincts on this.

“You
must
give it to Ash,” she said. “The fate of the succession depends upon it.”

“Venus, I am not going to insult Ash by suggesting he doesn’t know what to do in bed with his wife.”

“It’s not about that, precisely.” Drew could be so infuriating sometimes. “If you will just read the pages—”

“No.”

“—you will see the advice is mostly about how to strengthen the bond between husband and wife in such a way that women want to engage in bedroom activities.” She grinned. “Enthusiastically.”

Drew still did not look persuaded. “It doesn’t matter what your pages say. Ash will not want to read them. Haven’t you seen how our sons turn green when anyone mentions
Venus’s Love Notes
? They do not want to know what their mother—or their father, I suspect—thinks about marital love.”

Drew might have a point. “Then don’t say I wrote the pages. You can see I’ve put ‘by Anonymous’ as the author. Tell him a friend penned it.”

“I can’t lie.”

“You won’t be lying. I am your friend, aren’t I?”

“Venus, Ash will be mortified if I give him this, no matter whom I say it’s by. He’s a very proud, private person. You know that. Look at how he never breathed a word about his marriage difficulties in eight years, even when we began to push him to resolve matters.”

She did not want to agree with Drew, but, yes, she could see how Ash would not wish to accept advice, even though he clearly needed it. Anything he did would have to be his own idea....

“I have it! We will arrange it so he stumbles upon the pages himself.”

Drew looked skeptical as he handed the bundle back to her. “I don’t know how you’re going to manage that with the house so full. Jack or Ned is equally likely to find it, and we know
they
don’t need any advice of this sort.”

“Oh, dear. You are right, as always.”

Drew snorted. “Right as always? May I have that in writing?”

“You are very silly.”

“Why don’t you just hand the papers to Ash and ask
him
to give you his opinion? You can tell him I flat out refused to read any of it, which is true.” He smiled suggestively. “I know very well how to woo my wife.”

“Yes, you most certainly do.” Venus moved to kiss him on the cheek, but he caught her around the waist and captured her lips with his instead.

Mmm.

“I confess I feel the need to dispel any lingering doubts you might have on the subject of my wooing,” he murmured in her ear. He picked her up and carried her to the chair; she was delighted to discover that two people could indeed be quite comfortable in it.

She put her fingers on Drew’s lips as he tried to kiss her again. She wished to finish this topic before they moved on to what promised to be a very long, very engrossing “discussion.”

“Do you think Ash will read the pages if I give them to him, Drew?”

He brushed her fingers with his lips. “If he can get past the shock and mortification of the title, he might, especially if he’s feeling desperate enough.” He frowned. “And I am definitely sensing desperation there.”

“Yes, I agree. And Jess is not feeling very content either.”

“Just don’t give him the impression that you think he needs your advice.”

“Of course not. I shall be very tactful.”

Now why did Drew look so doubtful? She was the personification of tact.

“Are we finished talking about Ash’s problems now?” Drew’s clever fingers were teasing her earlobe.

“Yes, I suppose we are.”

“Splendid.” He took her papers and put them on the floor.

And that was the last she thought of them again for quite some while.

Ash stared glumly at his coffee. He felt as if his head was stuffed with old rags, and the sight—and the smell—of breakfast repulsed him.

He could not go on this way. He’d stayed up late drinking to be certain Jess was asleep before he went to bed—Ned and Jack had both given him pitying looks when they’d left him in the study, but had wisely held their tongues—and then he’d hauled himself downstairs before she’d awakened. Even Fluff was still asleep. He snorted. The dog had sprawled over his side of the bed the moment he’d vacated it.

“Sleep well, dear?”

Oh, God. Mama was revoltingly cheerful in the morning. Why couldn’t she take toast and tea in her room like a proper duchess? “Well enough.”

She clicked her tongue. “You don’t look like it.” Then—good God!—she waggled her eyebrows. “I see Jess is still abed.”

He was going to vomit right here on the table. Perhaps a piece of toast would settle his stomach and have the added benefit of preventing him from talking. “Have you the morning papers?” he asked before grabbing the toast. It was cold and somewhat soggy. Disgusting.