Netherby Halls (25 page)

“Can you doubt it?” he returned banteringly.

“Yes, oh yes,” she said and gave him a cool smile.
“So tell me, what really brings you here today?”

The marquis did not wait for an invitation as he sat
and made himself comfortable. He gave her a flirtatious glance and
said, “Ah, what brings me here—” he started.

“I have seen your interest in the Winthrop chit.”

“She is a lovely morsel, a quite delectable fruit,”
he answered and gave her an intense glance.

“Are you saying that particular fruit …
interests you?”

He answered quietly, “And if it did?”

“I would happily make you a present of her and be
done with the chit. I cannot abide her,” Bianca said bitterly.

“Do you always give away such things to your male
acquaintances?” This was not what he had expected to hear from her
that afternoon.

She smiled ruefully. “My lord, I am in no position
to. However, even if I were, I would not
give
anything away.
There are fruits though, that I would gladly
sell.”

She got up, moved to a corner dark wood cabinet, and
produced a bottle of sherry. Pouring slowly, she added, “Some
refreshment, my lord?”

“Indeed,” he said quietly. What was towards here?
What was she doing? She was too cool a character to give away what
she couldn’t retrieve.

“How nice. Then it is for some refreshment I owe your
visit to, today?” She eyed him frankly.

“One might put it that way,” the marquis said,
getting up and moving to slide his arm around her trim waist. “I am
told that sort of refreshment, the sort I have a decided penchant
for, will not be available till Friday night.” He sighed purposely.
“And this man needs amusement in the meantime.” He knew this was a
daring move.

“Whatever do you mean?” asked the headmistress, not
bothering to withdraw from his hold. She blinked her lashes at him
playfully.

A knock sounded at the door, which caused the marquis
to drop his arm, and a man’s voice called out, “Bianca?”

She eyed the marquis saucily and called out, “Yes,
Dr. Bankes, do come in.”

The marquis noted that Bankes had already done so and
stepped away, one eyebrow up.
Just as he thought, Bankes and the
headmistress were lovers … of a sort.

A loosely wrapped brown package was tucked under his
arm, and he immediately bowed his head to her. “Good day, Mistress
Sallstone.” He turned to the marquis. “My lord.”

“James,” said the headmistress, not bothering with
formalities.

“I brought this along with me. I was in Bath today,
and your dressmaker asked me to deliver it to you,” he said lamely.
The package slipped from his underarm, fell to the floor, and
exposed a fiery red spangled gown.

Bankes turned nearly as red as the gown as the
marquis eyed it and then him, his brow up and his expression loud,
very loud.

“I do regret, madam, that I must leave you now.
Perhaps another time?” he said as he picked up his things and
started backing away.

“I do hope so,” she said, smiling warmly.

He inclined his head, nodded to Dr. Bankes, and made
his exit, his mind meshing together all the things he knew with all
the things he was learning.

* * *

“Good lord, James!” exclaimed Bianca, turning on him
as soon as the marquis was gone. “I cannot imagine what made you
barge in like that. What if one of my staff was present? How would
it have looked?”

“Thoughtless, yes. At any rate, no harm done. I tell
you what though, Bianca, that is the last time I shall go into Bath
for one of those dratted gowns. Hang it, woman, what would it look
like if one of my respectable patients were to see me coming out of
Madame Olly’s? She does not exactly cater to the cream of the
ton
, you know. ’Tis far too risky for me.”

“Risk? It is Tom and I who take all the risks. You
have never risked anything.”

“You are forgetting that one little thing I did. Not
to mention the old gentleman down Turner’s Way. Now he pays nicely,
don’t he? Fifty guineas every Thursday night!”

“Shut up, you fool!” Bianca snapped. “Do you want
someone to hear you?”

“Then don’t be putting on airs with me and asking me
how I earn my share!” he snapped right back at her.

“All right, all right. Leave the dress and just get
out now. I can’t abide the sight of you today!” She waved him off
and turned her back.

He was on her in the heat of the moment. He turned
her by her shoulders and ripped open the bodice of her gown to
expose her breasts. “Have someone new in mind, Bianca?” he said as
he fondled her.

She was breathless as she gazed back at him and
whispered, “The door … someone might come in …”

“I don’t think so, sweetings.” He lifted up her day
gown, grabbed a hold of her crotch, and squeezed her hard.

“Yes … oh yes.” She groaned. “I like it when you
are rough … yes …” She pulled at her undergarments even
as he released his cock from his breeches.

He turned her once more, this time bending her over
her desk as he rammed into her and said, “Like that, Bianca …
is that how you want it … hard like that?”

She moaned her answer.

* * *

Tooling his reins on the way home, the marquis’s
thoughts flitted about his brain. He had never felt more anxious to
quit a woman’s company than he had been to get away from Bianca
Sallstone. She disgusted him in every imaginable way.

He had been heartily thankful for James Bankes’s
timely entrance. He had suspected that the doctor and the
headmistress were more than professional friends. Now, he was
certain of it. The notion that Bankes had spent time with Sassy
made him furious with sudden tension.
What is that—jealousy,
he asked himself.

Sassy’s green, innocent eyes took over his thoughts.
Her magic was white. He had received a full bolt of it last night
in her dreams, and he’d felt nothing dark about it. Passionate but
not dark, and he admitted to himself that he wanted her with all
his heart.

He had told her he hadn’t a heart to give, but he
knew that was a lie—did she know it as well? Would she give up on
him? Had his inability to trust anyone easily turned her feelings
off?

Why had she followed the man from Tangiers earlier?
What did she have to do with such as he? Why had she recognized Tom
Wheeler? And she had—there could be no denying that. Just how much
did she know?

He couldn’t think about that because his need to have
her in his arms was taking over his entire body. He had a raging
hard-on that spelled out one name, hers, over and over. He had not
been out of control since his first heartbreak, but this …
this was like nothing he had ever known!

The words
I love you
demanded release, and
yet, he had not said them. He knew she needed to hear them, and
still he could not say them. Perhaps … later, when all this
was behind him and he could go to her clean?

You will lose her, or worse … she will turn
to the doctor.
A voice nagged at him repeatedly, telling him to
be honest with her, but he had to keep her out of all the ugliness
that was sure to follow him now.

She was far too worthy for the libertine that he had
become!

* * *

Sweet pain!
Sassy had read this in poems and
never understood its meaning. How could pain ever be sweet? After
his kisses, after being with him, she understood all too well what
it meant. Everything about what she felt for him was so beautiful
it could be called sweet—and everything about the stretch of
problems between them was definitely painful.

She had scurried up the stairs and to her room. As
she began undressing, a knock sounded. She went to the door and
opened it a crack to find Molly there.

“Hello, dear. I was just going to change.”

“I know. I saw the mud when ye rushed up the stairs,”
Molly said with pursed lips. “You should have come straightaway to
me, Miss Winthrop. Here, let me help ye.” She took up the muddied
cloak. “I know jest how to clean this up like new, I do, and I’ll
fix up yer gown as well.”

“Molly, what would I do without you? But you have so
much already to do. I can’t give you more.”

“Aye, ye can, being who ye are, Miss, and how
thankful I am for what ye do for me,” Molly answered, lowering her
eyes.

Sassy hugged her. “You don’t have to do this. I can
wash the mud out.”

“Not with anyone none the wiser. But I can and I
will, and, Miss, I’ve been noticing things. Told m’dad about it,
and he says not to get involved cuz we need our jobs here. So, I
try to look the other way when I can, but this much I know—don’t go
walking when it gets dark. The headmistress means ye harm. I heard
her talking with a man in town. She didn’t know I was nearby, but I
was, picking up supplies for m’mum. I couldn’t quite make out what
she said, but she mentioned ye she did, and I didn’t like the sound
of it. I told m’dad, and he said to tell ye to have eyes in the
back of yer head.”

“Thank you, Molly. You are the one true friend I have
had since I got here. Thank you,” Sassy said and allowed the girl
to take her clothes before she turned to the basin of cold water
and washed her face.

Things were getting complicated, and the evil her
magic sensed around her was closing in. She could feel it. Molly
was correct: the headmistress was planning something—but what?

~
Twenty-two ~

THE MARQUIS HANDED Mr. Lutterel a glass of brandy and
took up a seat facing him. He reclined on the cushioned chair,
stretched out his long legs, and sighed heavily.

After Percy downed his glass, he looked over his
friend and exclaimed, “Women!”

The marquis had been drinking deeply since he had
returned from Netherby, but he raised his brow and eyed his friend.
“Undoubtedly a profound thought has forced such an utterance from
your lips, my friend. But tell me why? Does not your love life move
ahead, er, lovingly?”

“Yes, it does, but, Justin, look at you! For that
matter, look at me, ruled by a woman, and your mood evidently
created by a woman. I am sure of it.”

“Tread warily, Percy. You may be my dearest and
closest, but there are some matters that are over the line.”
He shrugged. “Besides, I have not said that I am involved with a
woman.”

“The devil you aren’t. You may not say it, but
I
know you
, and I have known for awhile now that you are madly in
love with Miss Winthrop. Good choice, by the way, not that any of
us ever has a choice.” He shook his head of flaxen hair and pointed
at his friend. “But you have made a botch of it.”

“Have I?” returned the marquis, not bothering to deny
anything. “Do but enlighten me.”

“Hang it, Justin, don’t pucker up at me. I haven’t
the devil of a notion what you have done wrong. You ain’t been
talkative, so how should I know how you have muddled things
up?”

“Go to the devil!” the marquis said amiably.

“I probably shall.” Percy replied and grinned
broadly.

“Well then, Percy,” the marquis said, turning the
subject around. “How goes it with the lovely Sophy?”

“Her mother thinks that you still being here means
Sophy might yet win a marriage proposal out of you. She doesn’t
care that Sophy’s father has posted the banns. She doesn’t care
about the scandal it would cause if Sophy were to throw me over for
you. She just goes about driving my Sophy mad.”

“Deuce take the woman! Perhaps Sophy is in the right
of it, and you should just elope to Gretna Green?”

“That won’t do. I can’t have Sophy whispered about—my
angel. That wouldn’t be fair and no way to start our life
together.”

“I think I shall call on your future mama-in-law and
explain a thing or two,” said the marquis.

“What?” Mr. Lutterel exclaimed, shocked. “You would
trouble yourself to do that?”

“Yes, indeed, that is what I shall do.”

A knock sounded lightly at the open door of their
drawing room. The marquis looked around to find their butler
waiting patiently at the threshold, silver salver in hand. A frown
descended over his face, but he motioned for the rigid-looking man
to approach.

He removed an ivory-colored epistle from its
envelope, and the butler withdrew as the marquis began its
perusal.

Mr. Lutterel rose to his feet to bend towards his
friend and ask, “I say, Justin, who is it from at this hour?”

As an answer, the marquis placed the letter in Mr.
Lutterel’s eager hands, got up, and withdrew to stand in front of
the small fire with his hands clasped at his back.

“Good God, Justin,” Percy exclaimed after a moment.
“That girl—that poor, desperate girl!”

“Just so, Percy,” the marquis said quietly, his blue
eyes glinting with anger. “Just so!”

* * *

Sassy couldn’t sleep, and it wasn’t because of the
dream. Something, actually too many things, nagged at her.

She got up, pulled on her warm green velvet wrapper,
and began pacing as she tried to sort out her thoughts. While she
was thus engaged, the sound of approaching wheels and clopping
horses on gravel caught her attention.

She saw a small, covered carriage, pulled by two
horses, but it had stopped a good distance from the front door. The
dim light from the lanterns at the driver’s seat was not enough to
see very much, but of one thing she was certain—a young girl was
getting out. She wore the hood of her dark cloak pulled low over
her head as she hurried towards the side entrance of the
building.

Sassy took up a candle, lit it hurriedly, put the
glass cover in place, and made her way down the hall, pausing to
suck in air before rushing down the stairs. She hadn’t seen who the
young woman was, but her instincts told her the girl would head for
the students’ wing. She was correct.