Mistress (20 page)

“She has a right to be proud of this house. It’s not every estate that can boast a Temple of Vesta.”

“Be different if one could boast of a few virgins to go with it,” Pettigrew said. “But these days they’re as rare as unicorns and phoenixes, ain’t they?”

Marcus studied the rolling lawn outside the library window. “Phoenixes?”

“You know, mythological bird that’s supposed to be reborn from its own ashes.”

“I lost interest in mythological creatures at about the same time I lost interest in virgins,” Marcus said.

“What a lovely evening.” Iphiginia gazed up at the night sky.

She had dragged Marcus out onto the terrace on the pretext of admiring the tranquil summer evening before they retired. In truth, she intended to quiz him on what he had learned in Pettigrew’s library this afternoon. She had been eager to speak to him in private all day, but there had been no opportunity to do so.

Now that she had him to herself out here under the stars, she was no longer in such a rush to question him about his discoveries. She realized that all she really yearned to do was share a few quiet, private moments with him.

It was nearly midnight. After an evening of dinner
and cards, most of the Pettigrew guests had drifted upstairs to their bedchambers.

Although it was the height of the Season in Town, here in the country there was no endless round of balls and soirees to keep one up until dawn. Spending a few days in the country was considered a good way to refortify oneself for the hectic pace of Town life.

A soft, balmy breeze stirred the leaves of the nearby trees. The scent of flowers floated on the air. Iphiginia took a deep breath, savoring the fragrance of the night.

“It certainly is clear.” Marcus leaned against the ornate balustrade. His gaze was fixed on the heavens. “I’d give a great deal to be at my estate in Yorkshire.”

“Why do you wish you were in Yorkshire?”

“Because that’s where my new telescope is.”

“Telescope? You are interested in astronomy?”

“Yes.”

Iphiginia was intrigued by the revelation. No matter how much she discovered about this man, it seemed that there were always new depths waiting to be explored. “I had no notion, my lord.”

His mouth curved faintly. “Did you think that you had learned everything there was to know about me when you studied for your role as my mistress?”

“No, of course not.” She felt herself grow warm. “But I thought I had made a rather thorough inquiry into your past and present interests.”

“Do not concern yourself.” Marcus kept his attention on the night sky. “It was only a small oversight. You no doubt missed my interest in astronomy because it is a rather new one. I was led into it by my studies of the properties of light and mirrors.”

Iphiginia pushed her questions about Pettigrew’s wax jack and seal aside for the moment. She was far more curious to learn new things about the man she loved. “How did they lead you into the subject of astronomy?”

“Very easily.” Marcus glanced briefly at her before returning his attention to the skies. “When one studies the
stars, essentially one studies light. Mirrors can be used to focus light in such a manner that one can see a great distance into the skies.”

“You mean the sort of mirrors which are used in telescopes?”

“Yes. Mirrors can also be used to concentrate the light itself so that it can be studied. I have been working on just such a project.” He gave her an oddly hesitant, sidelong glance. “I have devised a small machine which allows me to study light.”

“How does it work?”

“It utilizes a prism and a small telescope—” He broke off with a rueful expression. “Forgive me. As a student of antiquities, I expect you find this topic rather a dull one.”

“Oh, no, not in the least,” she assured him. “As it happens, the ancients were very concerned with studies of the heavens. Indeed, the very stars and planets are named after the heroes and heroines of antiquity.”

“True.”

“Tell me, what do you hope to learn from an investigation of starlight?”

“I’m not certain.” Marcus shrugged. “But something Mr. William Herschel wrote a couple of years ago intrigued me greatly.”

“What was it?”

Marcus reached out, took her hand, and led her toward the wide stone steps that descended into the gardens. “He pointed out that in some sense when we look at the stars we are looking into the past.”

“I do not understand.”

“The light from the stars takes thousands of years to reach us, by all modern calculations.”

“Yes, of course. I see what you mean. The light we see must have been originally emitted eons ago,” Iphiginia whispered. “I never thought of it in that fashion. What a fascinating notion.”

“I find it so.” Marcus smiled at her. “But I have
learned that few people outside of a small group who are interested in such matters care to listen to a detailed conversation on the topic.”

“I understand.” Iphiginia savored the feel of his big hand wrapped around her own smaller fingers. She felt as though she and Marcus were linked together mentally as well as physically tonight. It was good to know that he no longer suspected her of blackmail. “I have often been accused of being something of a bore myself, sir.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“Oh, but it’s true. I’m afraid I was obliged to live a very quiet life until last year.”

“Due to your husband’s age and infirmities, I expect.”

“Uh, yes. Mr. Bright did not get out much.”

“And therefore, neither did you.”

“No.”

“Tell me something, Iphiginia,” Marcus said very softly. “Were you faithful to your Mr. Bright?”

Iphiginia gasped and somehow managed to stumble over a small stone buried in the grass. “What a ridiculous question, my lord.”

He steadied her. “What is so strange about it? You have been in Society long enough to know that faithful wives are few and far between.”

“From what I have observed, the number of unfaithful wives is exceeded only by the number of unfaithful husbands,” Iphiginia retorted.

“I suppose that is true.”

Having won the point and neatly changed the topic in the process, Iphiginia grew suddenly more daring. “Were you a faithful husband, my lord?”

Marcus was silent for a moment. “I have a rule against discussing my past. Most particularly, I do not discuss my marriage.”

The rebuff chilled Iphiginia. “Yes, of course. How could I forget your infamous rules? Tell me, do you enjoy living by such rigid rules, sir?”

“They have served me well.”

“Life is short,” Iphiginia whispered. “I find that too many rules can make one’s existence seem very dull and confined.”

“I find that they protect one’s privacy.”

“But one misses out on so much of life’s excitement when one lives by the overly strict rules of Society,” Iphiginia protested.

“I do not live by Society’s rules, Iphiginia. I live by my own.”

They wandered into a more heavily wooded portion of the extensive Pettigrew gardens. The lights of the big house were far behind them now. When Iphiginia glanced over her shoulder, she realized she could not even see the stately home any longer. A stand of trees stood in the way.

The night was lit only by starlight and the glow of the nearly full moon.

“It is as if we were alone in the world,” Iphiginia said.

“A very pleasant sensation.” Marcus glanced at a large structure looming in a nearby grove. “What have we here?”

Iphiginia saw the tall, elegant columns of the Temple of Vesta. “That is the ruin. I finished my measurements of it this afternoon while you were in Pettigrew’s library. By the bye, did you discover anything of interest there?”

“No. Pettigrew uses red wax. There was no sign of any black wax in his jack and his seal bears the emblem of a hart.”

“How very disappointing. Did you examine his desk with great care?”

“Yes, I did. Trust me, Pettigrew is not the blackmailer.” Marcus changed course to stroll over to the circular structure. “Did you find this Temple of Vesta to be a good copy of the original in Tivoli?”

Iphiginia heaved a small sigh of regret over the news that Pettigrew had been removed from the list of suspects. She surveyed the graceful, airy antiquity. Moonlight cascaded down through the open roof, lending an enchanting,
mystical quality to the ruin that had not been present earlier in the day.

“Not bad, actually,” she said judiciously. “It conveys the lightness of feeling that one encounters in the original. You will note the fine proportions of the columns. The circle in which they are constructed is quite precise in measurement.”

“Indeed.”

Iphiginia realized that Marcus was looking at her, not at the temple. His eyes gleamed in the shadows. Something in his low, deep voice turned her insides to warm pudding.

She took a breath and tried to sound suitably casual and erudite. “One can almost imagine the Vestal Virgins tending the sacred flame within such a classical setting.”

“Your imagination is considerably more vivid than mine.” Marcus led her between two of the tall stone columns. He drew her to a halt in the center of the round floor and stood gazing about with amused interest. “I cannot seem to conjure up any virgins here, but I find the setting inspiring nonetheless.”

Iphiginia felt her mouth go dry. “Do you?”

“Yes.” He framed her face with his strong hands. “The name Lady Starlight suits you, Iphiginia. You were born to walk in starlight.”

She shivered.
I was born to love you
, she thought. A haunting sadness swept through her. She would very likely never be able to say those words aloud to him because he would not want to hear them.

“Have you enjoyed playing my mistress, Iphiginia?”

“Oh, yes. Enormously. As your paramour, I am considered absolutely riveting by all and sundry. In truth, I shall be a bit sorry when the whole thing is over.”

“Will you?”

“Well, not entirely,” she confessed. “The thing is, it would be a great nuisance to be the focus of so many eyes all of the time. But I must admit that it has been something
of a grand adventure — Almost as exciting as my recent journey to Italy.”

Marcus’s brows rose. “Almost as exciting? I am devastated to hear that being my mistress has not been quite as entrancing as your tour of antiquities.”

Iphiginia was horrified at the realization that she might have insulted him. “I did not mean to offend you, my lord. In truth, I have found playing the part of your mistress vastly interesting.”

“But not quite as interesting as, say, touring the ruins of Pompeii?”

“Well, Pompeii is Pompeii, after all, my lord,” she chided gently. “Few things on the face of the earth can compare with that.”

“No, I suppose not. But allow me to try to add some additional excitement to your current adventure.”

His mouth closed over hers. Iphiginia did not know whether it was the moonlight or the heat from Marcus’s body that set her senses on fire.

T
HIS WAS THE RIGHT PLACE, THE RIGHT TIME, THE RIGHT
man.

Iphiginia was utterly lost in the glorious wonder of that realization. It was as though everything she had done since she had cast off the shackles of her quiet, proscribed life in Deepford last year had been done in preparation for this moment.

She was free. Free of her obligations to her sister, free of the suffocating rules of her small village, free from the beady, prying eyes of disapproving neighbors.

During the past year she had come into her own and now she was truly free to love for the first time in her life.

She must seize the moment, she thought. She would worry about the consequences later.

This was the grandest adventure of all, one she had begun to fear that she would never have an opportunity to experience.

She stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms tightly around Marcus’s neck.

A shudder went through him. He gave a low, rasping sound and deepened his kiss. He gripped her fiercely, holding her still while he explored her mouth.

Iphiginia sighed softly and leaned closer, her senses thrilling to his warmth and strength.

“My sweet Lady Starlight.” Marcus slid his big hand slowly down Iphiginia’s throat. He eased her delicate white shawl aside, exposing her bare shoulders. “You cannot know how I have ached to touch you again.”

“Yes. Please touch me. Please, Marcus.” Iphiginia turned her head to kiss his hand. She felt the soft cashmere shawl fall from her shoulders and drift down to pool at her feet.

She was dazed by the moonlight and his touch. Nothing seemed quite real and yet her senses had never been more acutely alive. His fingers probed gently, seeking the fastenings of her gown.

A small, distinct shock went through her when Marcus found the tapes, undid them, and slowly, reverently lowered the bodice. The soft, scented air wafted over her bare breasts.

She buried her face against his cravat.

“Beautiful.” Marcus covered her nipples with his palms. “So beautiful.”

Iphiginia felt her breasts swell and become incredibly sensitive beneath his warm hand. She shivered at the realization that, although he had touched her with dazzling intimacy the other night in Lartmore’s statuary hall, Marcus had never actually seen her nude.

Until tonight no man had ever seen her naked.

She should have been mortified, Iphiginia thought. But the sensual admiration in Marcus’s voice was having just the opposite effect. He made her feel exquisite and irresistible.

The urge to explore him as he was exploring her swamped any lingering hesitation. She reached up and began to untie his cravat with trembling fingers.

“Yes,” Marcus whispered.

A moment later the ends of the long neckcloth hung loose.

Iphiginia looked at him. The hard planes of his face
were etched in moonlight and shadow. His eyes were brilliant. His mouth curved slightly in a small smile of unmistakable sensual hunger.

“Marcus?” She did not know how to ask the unformed question. She only knew that she wanted more than a kiss out here in the moonlight.