Mastering the Marquess (33 page)

Tearing her eyes from the Countess, Louisa focused on Bliss, who didn’t seem to feel there was anything bizarre in the atmosphere. She was rolling back and forth on her feet,
excitement swirling about her.

“Your costume is wonderful,” Louisa told Bliss with sincerity. “I am not sure I’ve ever seen you look so …”

“So ordinary,” Bliss supplied.

“That was not what I was going to say.” Although perhaps there was some truth to the sentiment. Bliss did have a tendency to be a little outrageous and flamboyant. She could never have been described as ordinary. Her fairy costume, while beautiful, was quite within the realm of the expected. The delicate gold wings and sparkling gown could have been worn by any young woman wishing to appear attractive.

Bliss smiled. “I know. But it is what you meant. I wanted to dress like a mermaid and have servants push me about in a great tub of water. My dear friend Lady Ormande persuaded me otherwise. And I am going to count that as an introduction. It is clear that you know each other—or at least
of
each other. What I don’t think you know, my dear Louisa, is that Lady Ormande used to be—”

“That is enough, Bliss,” the Countess said, her tone taking command of the room.

“But …” Bliss wanted to share her secret, but all she could do was drop her eyes and begin to twist her hands.

“I do appreciate the introduction, but I do believe it would be best if I spoke to Lady Swanston alone.”

“If you really think it best.” It was very clear that Bliss was not speaking her true feelings, but she would not go against Lady Ormande.

“I do.” The Countess walked over to Bliss and, leaning forward, kissed her on the cheeks, a soft parental blessing. Only the Countess seemed anything but motherly. No mother would have slid her hand down Bliss’s bosom in quite such a manner. “Just go. I will explain everything later.”

With a long sigh, Bliss flounced from the room, her wings dancing as she moved.

As soon as she was gone, the Countess closed the door with a firm click.

“And what was it that Bliss wanted to tell me and you did not?” Louisa asked, trying to hold her ground.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you—I definitely think you need to know. I am just protective of young Bliss and don’t wish to upset her. She knows some but not all of what I must
tell you.” The Countess walked over to the settee and sat down, patting the space beside her.

Louisa wanted to demur, to choose a seat far away, but she did wish to learn whatever secret the Countess wished to impart. Taking small steps, she walked over and sat beside Lady Ormande. Her throat clutched as Lady Ormande slid closer until their thighs touched.

“What Bliss was so eager to tell you, what she found so fun, is that I was Swanston’s mistress for quite some time.”

Louisa’s mouth dried in an instant. “You were what? Bliss found that fun—introducing us?”

The Countess patted Louisa’s thigh gently, then left her hand there. “I believe that Bliss took joy in her perfect brother’s not being such a paragon. He is always protecting her from disgrace, and I believe she thought it wonderful that he might have a little scandal attached to his own name.”

“Oh.”

“I think I have expressed it badly.” Lady Ormande ran her hand up and down Louisa’s thigh. “She did not mean it badly. I believe she is merely happy that her brother is a real person. And I think she thought I could help you. She knows that Swanston can be intimidating and thought you might need a friend who understood.”

What on earth were these women thinking? It might have helped her if she’d known Geoffrey had a mistress before her talk with the duke, but how was this supposed to help now? And as she remembered that conversation she could only wonder which talk was more awkward, more odd. She seemed destined for these intimate chats that nobody would ever believe had taken place. “And you thought she was right? Thought that it was appropriate that we talk?” She was beginning to feel angry.

“No, I did not feel it appropriate and I certainly did not find it fun. This is as difficult for me as it is for you.” The Countess ran her hand a little farther up Louisa’s thigh, the fingers firm through the thin skirts of Louisa’s costume.

Somehow Louisa did not believe that Lady Ormande found this as difficult as she did. In fact, although she could not have said why, she was convinced that the Countess was enjoying the situation. “Then why …?” She let her voice trail off.

“Because I do care for Geoffrey, for Swanston, and I want to be sure that you understand what he needs and are capable of giving it to him. Your husband is a very unique man.”

“I do agree with the latter statement, but am unsure what you mean by the first. Why should I not be able to provide my husband with everything he needs?” Louisa worked to hide the displeasure she had felt in hearing the Countess call her husband “Geoffrey.” Deep in her heart she knew it was important to show no sign of weakness.

“Do you truly not understand my question? If you do not then you are not the wife Geoffrey needs.” Lady Ormande began to stroke her thumb up and down Louisa’s thigh, the gesture completely inappropriate for any but a husband or a lover—and certainly not what one would expect from another lady.

The worst of it, however, was that Louisa could feel herself respond as the strong thumb swept over thin muslin, chafing it against sensitive skin. She tried to slide away, but the Countess held her firm.

“Now don’t be like that, my sweet Louisa. I do hope you don’t mind me calling you ‘Louisa.’ I do so want us to be the best of friends.” The Countess’s thumb stroked up again, higher. “And don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed that Geoffrey can be a bit—or perhaps more than a bit—domineering at times. And yes, I am talking about in bed. Tell me, has he tied you up yet? And how many ways has he found to fuck you? The man is nothing if not innovative, and I can only imagine the fun he’d have with a sweet little submissive like you.”

Louisa stiffened her spine. “I hardly think that—”

“Oh, I know that no one likes to admit that they like to let someone else take control, but it is very clear, my dear. Do you think I don’t feel you shiver as I stroke you?” The Countess moved her hand until her fingers brushed the juncture of Louisa thighs. “I feel your muscles tighten beneath me. You don’t want to like it, but you do. You like my taking control. I imagine that Geoffrey can make you orgasm just by telling you to.”

Louisa had wondered a moment ago which conversation was stranger, this or the one with the duke. She wondered no more. This was odder than anything she had ever imagined, and considerably more enraging. Holding herself completely still, she turned her head and stared straight into the Countess’s dark eyes. “I do not wish to discuss such matters with you. These things are private—between a husband and a wife.”

Lady Ormande smiled, and her full ruby lips parted, revealing even white teeth. Her long red tongue slipped out, leaving a glisten spread across the lower lip.

Louisa had to fight not to stare.

“I was expecting almost this exact reaction, but I wanted you to know that I am here for you if you ever need a friend who understands. Being with a man like Geoffrey is not easy. You may love him—love what he does to you—but that will not make it easy. He does not want it to be easy. If it starts to become easy he will grow bored. No, you must always strive to do more—to take more. Tell me, has he brought out the whips? Or the candles and hot wax?” The Countess gave a little shiver. “Oh, the things you have to look forward to. And do you cry? Geoffrey always had a thing for tears.”

“I really must be going.” Gathering all her strength, Louisa pushed to stand, shaking off the Countess’s touch.

“So soon, and you have not even asked about my costume. I thought it quite clever.” The woman turned her head so that her eyes were level with Louisa’s breasts. She pursed her lips and blew, the hot, warm breath penetrating the fragile fabric and hitting Louisa’s nipples. Another wide smile.

“I do not believe this is the time to talk of costumes. And I do not see what is so clever about the Queen of Hearts.” Louisa wanted to bite back the last. Betraying weakness was a mistake. It would be best to hide all her disquiet from the Countess.

“Oh, but I am not the Queen of Hearts.” The Countess rose to standing also, almost, but not quite, brushing against Louisa’s full length. She reached out and grabbed Louisa’s hand, placing it first upon her pale, cool cheek and then sliding it up her oddly piled hair.

Louisa would have forcibly pulled free, but she was not yet ready to let matters escalate in such a fashion. She sensed that Lady Ormande would enjoy her rage. Far better to react calmly and leave.

“No guesses as to who I am?” the Countess asked.

Louisa held quiet.

Her hand was pulled higher, her fingers pushed into the strange hair. There was something hard there, hard and sharp. With a small cry she yanked her hand free. A single drop of blood stained the end of a finger.

“Oh dear. I am so sorry. My horns must have gotten you. I am the devil in disguise—but I meant no injury.”

Louisa doubted that was true. She turned to leave.

Her hand was grabbed one more time.

“Oh, but you must let me kiss it better,” the Countess said. And before Louisa could do anything about it, she found her finger being sucked deep into the Countess’s mouth, the warm tongue caressing, the teeth scraping.

That was no kiss.

Louisa yanked her hand back and hurried to the door, stopping only to grab her pomegranate and sheaf of wheat from the table where she’d dropped them.

“I am sorry you are so upset, my sweet Louisa.” Lady Ormande evidently required the last word. “But do remember I am here when you need advice—and you
will
need it. And don’t upset young Bliss; she meant only the best.”

Without reply Louisa slipped through the door, shutting it, and the Countess, firmly behind her.

If only it were possible to shut her mind as firmly from the Countess’s words.

Whips?

Chapter Twenty-three

“You really must stay away from her.” Swanston used every bit of trained command he was capable of as he looked down at his sister.

“Why?” Bliss’s lower lip jutted out just as it had when she was a child.

He had not wanted to give Bliss an ultimatum, but she clearly had no idea of the danger she was placing herself in.

“You must trust me. I know things that you do not.”

“Then tell me. Lady Ormande has been nothing but a friend to me. She wants to teach me. I see no reason to avoid her company,” Bliss replied.

“Have you ever considered that she is using you? That she wants something?” Why did his sister always have to be so obstinate? Couldn’t she just do as he said, even once?

“And why would she be doing that? She likes me. She says that I am fresh and young and so very fun. She understands me.”

“Do you believe everything you are told? You are young. Why would she find that interesting?” He should not have said that.

Bliss’s chin tilted up. “And what could she possibly have to gain by becoming my friend? She has never asked me for anything.”

“Perhaps it is not you she is after, but me. Lady Ormande and I have had disagreements in the past, and I believe she is using you to get at me.” There. That was simple enough.

“You always think it’s about you. I am never good enough and you are always perfect. Well, Lady Ormande has told me things and I know you are not the prince you pretend. That is why you don’t wish me with her, isn’t it? You are afraid of what she can tell me?”

Well, that was definitely true, but he doubted that his fears were anywhere near the magnitude of what Bliss was imagining. “What has she told you?”

“That is for me to know and you to find out.”

“You know, you sound like a child, and not a very nice one.”

“That is because you treat me like a child. I am almost twenty and have been out of the schoolroom for years. I am quite capable of choosing my own friends.”

“Then do so. Just not the Countess.”

“Do you hear what a hypocrite you are?” Bliss stepped back from him.

“I am not trying to be mean or—” he began to reply.

“Do you think I care what you are trying? You are not my father and you are not in charge of me.”

“No, but I do arrange for your allowance.”

“Then cut me off, see if I care. I don’t need you, or your money.” With a swirl of skirts and a dance of wings—that almost caught him across the face—Bliss turned and hurried off into the crowd.

Swanston could only stare after her. Blast. That had not gone as he’d meant it to. He’d planned on a few gentle words suggesting to Bliss that the Countess was not to be trusted, and instead he’d been so concerned about her and so busy wondering where Louisa was that he’d let his emotions get the best of him.

This was why he made a practice of holding control so tightly.

“I take it you did not mean to let things get so out of hand.” Duldon approached from near the card room, his costume little more than a handheld half-mask. “I’ve never seen you upset her quite so quickly. And I have had plenty of experience with Bliss and her sudden storms.”

“I was trying to keep her away from the Countess.”

“I can see you were quite successful.” Duldon held out a glass of what looked suspiciously like whiskey.

Swanston took it, asking no questions about where it had come from in a room filled with punch. “I just worry. I should have known she would rush off to do exactly what I asked her not to.”

“That is Bliss. Perhaps you should have explained to her why you didn’t want her near the Countess.”

“And said what?”

Duldon took a swig. “That is a problem. I don’t imagine your family knows of your tastes.”

“No, and I intend to keep it that way. Better they think me a bore than that they believe me a deviant.”

“Are you sure that they would think that? I’ve never heard of Dansers judging anyone.”

“Except for me? I judge everyone.” Swanston knew well what the world thought of him.