Ridiculous (41 page)

She turned to face him and found his arms open wide. Two steps brought her into his arms to receive his kiss. They clung together, swaying and moaning as the kiss deepened and swept them away from such mundane matters as the journey. The only thing that mattered was the destination – each other’s arms.

* * *

As the sweat dried on their bodies, Shoffer pulled Millicent close and ran a soothing hand down her spine. So soft and feminine a body to hide beneath all those layers of masculine attire, he smiled as he repeated the gesture possessively. He was the only man who would know her like this. The only one to have joy of her. To see her soft and replete in the aftermath of pleasure.

“If you stop doing that, I shall hurt you,” said Millicent, her eyes still closed and a gentle smile curving her mouth.

“I shall never stop.”

“Silly man, it would look very odd when we are strolling along Bond Street.”

Shoffer laughed. “Speaking of Bond Street. We should find time to go there, with you dressed as a woman. There is no need for my mistress to go about attired in last year’s fashions. I shall buy you whatever you need.”

Now her eyes snapped open. “What is it about me that compels you to change my dress? First, Mr. North, now Helene? Have you no other occupations?”

“Undressing you has its pleasures, as well.” They both laughed at that. “But it occurs to me that we should be seen about town together. Helene and Timothy taking the air in the park and visiting shops and the theater will help with putting down the rumors and I should enjoy your company.”

“The rumors about you, which are not very strong to begin with, but me,” her gaze traveled down his long, strong legs. “You would not look as well in women’s clothing as I do in men’s, and we would have difficulty explaining the pelt on your décolletage. I cannot see taking the air with Timothea on my arm.”

She tugged at the curls on his chest even as he rolled her onto her back.

“That will never happen,” he growled.

“Not even for me?” she fluttered her eyelashes.

Shoffer laughed and pressed his face to her neck. When he recovered and pulled back, he watched her with a thoughtful gaze. “I have never laughed while making love before.”

“Why are you surprised given present company? Do you like it?”

“I find that I do.” He took hold of her breast and feasted for a while upon her nipples. When he raised his head again his eyes were dark and his expression feral. “Yes, and I believe you do as well.”

* * *

It took two attempts to get them out of the house that afternoon as they both were easily distracted and seduced by the other. By the time they succeeded in getting fully dressed the Bond Street stores were closed and most of the
ton
were retired to their homes to rest and prepare for the evening’s entertainment. Shoffer rode a few streets away and loitered about waiting for Millicent. She arrived soon enough, mounted on a horse from Shoffer’s own stable, attired in Mr. North’s loose clothing. Shoffer smiled to see her. Millicent regarded his satisfied expression as she approached and replied with a frown.

“You cannot look at me as if I am a sweet cake when I am North. No wonder people talk!”

“You are entirely correct.” Shoffer’s smile vanished in an instant. “That will not do. Of your kindness, remind me if I should do that again.”

“Certainly, and you must stop insisting on accompanying me home. I can find my own way.”

“We are not going directly home. We have errands to run for your cousin, Mildred.”

Millicent tried to raise her eyebrows. “Why would Mildred appeal to you?”

“Actually, Beth told me. She wants us to persuade a few of the more interesting actors and actresses currently fashionable to attend your Mildred’s afternoon tea in the hope that it will encourage the
ton
to attend.”

“Is that wise?” asked Millicent, after some thought. “Will that not lower the tone of the event?”

“It has become necessary.”

“Oh?”

“Or else we two will have to eat a tea for two hundred without assistance. Did they not tell you, no one has responded to the invitations?”

Millicent’s hands tightened on her reins and the horse protested and bridled.

“They had not told me.”

“Do not be offended. It is possible they hoped that the situation would change before you heard of it and they may have feared you would command them to cancel the arrangements.”

Millicent closed her eyes and groaned. “I am not really a pinch-penny. Why can they not tell me these things?”

“The cry of all males when considering the motivations of their females,” replied Shoffer. “But we can aid them. Before we return home, we shall visit Covent Garden and The Strand theaters, speak to a few of the better-mannered thespians, and see what bribes are necessary to guarantee their sober attendance.”

* * *

Appearing at the stage door with a duke at her side was an educational experience for Millicent. Lacking any interest in setting up a mistress, she had no reason to pursue an acquaintance with the ladies of the theaters. She was, therefore, astonished to see the degree of undress that those ladies considered appropriate for receiving visitors. Once she and Shoffer were ushered through the dim and dusty backstage corridors to a shabby sitting room, voluptuous women dressed in little more than chemises and perfume emerged from the depths of backstage – driven by the mere hint of a rumor that a duke had entered the theater. Millicent was astonished to discover that Mr. North was known here by reputation. A plump, pink lady whose turn included singing “naughty” songs forced her way through the crowd to lay claim to Millicent’s lap and nothing could turn her away. Millicent considered appealing to Shoffer for aid, but after one look at his grinning face, she changed her mind and resigned herself to having her knees crushed and all four of her cheeks pinched.

The singer flung one arm about Millicent’s neck and pressed her face into a pillowy bosom. It would have been tolerable, even amusing, if the lady was in the habit of bathing regularly. As it was, the scent of fermenting flesh, rancid perfume, and greasy makeup turned Millicent’s stomach.

Fortunately, the singer was not on Shoffer’s list of prospective invitees.

Mademoiselle Therese, seated at Shoffer’s right hand, draped in a peignoir of lace and satin, was flattered and teased into consenting to grace the tea with her presence. If she was under the impression that the duke himself was hosting the party, that was her misunderstanding and not his fault. As the duke had hoped, the poor Mademoiselle wanted desperately to receive social acceptance and was willing to forgo performance payment for such a prestigious invitation.

It was obvious she also expected to receive an offer of protection from Shoffer. Millicent closed her eyes rather than watch the two flirt. Jealousy was an unpleasant emotion that she was determined not to indulge. Besides, if a wife could not expect to spend as much time in her husband’s company as his friends, then a mistress could expect much, much less. Millicent knew she would not exchange her place in Shoffer’s life for anything.

The male actors took less time to persuade than the ladies. Millicent and the duke visited Shoffer’s selections in their dressing rooms, stated the date and time, and received immediate acceptances.

They were ambushed by ambitious actresses as they attempted to leave. Millicent was struggling to free herself from her plump admirer when a group of gentlemen were escorted in. Millicent recognized two of them; Shoffer, it appeared, knew them all. The eldest recoiled in shock to see Millicent and Shoffer well occupied by the opera dancers.

“Setting up a mistress, Shoffer?” cried the youngest, seeing Shoffer with one on each arm and another pressing her assets against his chest. “I say, play fair. Leave one or two for the rest of us.”

“The race goes to the swiftest … and wealthiest,” replied Shoffer blandly.

“And Mr. North,” said another, affecting to be greatly shocked. “I had not thought to see
you
here.”

“How can I resist the manifold charms of a well-acted play?” asked Millicent, ignoring the unspoken message. “The powerful words. The high emotions. The histrionics… the cleavages.”

The plump singer giggled and tightened her grip on Millicent’s arm.

“But we are late,” said Shoffer. “The ladies of our households will not be pleased if we delay their departures for this evening’s entertainment.”

He worked his way free of the actresses, kissed the fingers of one, then nodded his farewell to the gentlemen. Millicent found it more difficult to free herself, but eventually she was standing in the fetid back alley. The singer followed her to the door, and waved a handkerchief. Millicent managed to send her a smile, despite a tightly clenched jaw. Her mood was not improved by Shoffer’s broad grin.

When Millicent raised a threatening fist in his direction, Shoffer dodged out of range.

“Come, now, North, it is all to the good. Just give it a few hours and it will be all over London that you are setting up a mistress.”

“Oh, yes, that
is
good news.” Millicent stalked past him toward where an urchin waited, holding their horses. “And the story will go that I require you to hold my hand and guide me in the selection of a courtesan. That will certainly enhance my reputation as a gentleman.”

Shoffer grinned. “You cannot tell me that it is not better than the current story.”

“I do not know,” snarled Millicent, turning to face him and raising her voice. “Shall we start the same about you? That you are such an innocent, helpless virgin that…”

“Lower your voice!”

Millicent smiled and passed a coin to the waiting boys.

“Do not worry, Your Grace, I shall keep your secret. No one will suspect that you have reached such a great age without
knowing
a woman.”

“Insults and abuse?” Shoffer threw himself into the saddle. “This is my reward for aiding your sister?”

“Perhaps you should appeal to her in person if you wish kind words and flattery.”

* * *

Mildred’s reaction to Millicent’s and Shoffer’s labors was not exactly what they had expected. Millicent greeted her sister with a report of their afternoon’s activities upon spying that worthy as she descended the main staircase. Mildred first went pale, then red; then the shouting began.

“How dare you?” shrieked Mildred. “What were you thinking? No. You could not have been thinking and done such a thing. Mr. North, you, I believe, are capable of any foolishness, but you, Your Grace, I thought you possessed better sense, better understanding of the
ton
!”

With that she burst into tears and ran back up the stairs, leaving Millicent and Shoffer open-mouthed and gasping in her wake. Millicent recovered first.

“You told me this was a plan! I assumed that you had received instructions!”

“I…I…” Shoffer stuttered into silence. Now that he came to think of it, he was uncertain how it had come about. “We were talking, Beth and me, about how your sister’s party was looking to be a disaster and…”

“And you, in your magnanimity, decided to interfere in an event that my sister has been planning for weeks. Her debut as a hostess to the
ton
?” Millicent drew herself up to her full height and glared, hot and fierce, at the duke. “You arrogant son of a bitch. How dare you? Do you not understand that there are some matters where one would rather fail by one’s own efforts than be rescued by a superior, smug, know-it-all!”

Merit, who had emerged to take personal charge of the duke’s hat and gloves, turned ice pale and his knees gave way. The nearest footman dropped Millicent’s hat to seize Merit by the arm. The two staggered and fell, knocking the hall table with its burden of bric-a-brac to the floor. Even as the echoes faded, Millicent turned and followed her sister up the staircase. Shoffer stood abandoned for a few moments before shaking himself, collected his own gloves from the floor and departed. He was so disturbed that he forgot the horse waiting for him and walked the darkening streets to his home.

* * *

Ignoring his own butler and footman, Shoffer kept the company of his hat and gloves, strode through to his study, and poured out a generous amount of brandy. It was not until he had drained half the glass that he noticed that he still wore his gloves.

Cursing women in general, and all the women of the Boarder household in particular, he tore off his gloves and threw them on the nearest flat surface with enough force that they bounced and landed on the floor.

“Your Grace?” ventured his butler.

“Where is my sister, Forsythe?”

“Upstairs, resting in preparation for this evening, Your Grace.”

“Well, wake her and inform her there is no need. I have decided we shall not be going out tonight.”

To do him credit, Forsythe hesitated before speaking. “Not going out?”

Shoffer did not reply. Forsythe hurried from the room to carry the message himself, instead of delegating it to younger legs.

Beth appeared within five minutes having run through the house in her dressing gown and slippers rather than take the time to dress for the interview.

“Timothy? Whatever is the matter?” she demanded.

“Lady Elizabeth,” replied Shoffer in the coldest tones he had ever used with his sister. “Pray tell me, when did you discuss the need for changes to be made to Mildred Boarder’s tea party with Miss Mildred herself? When did she approve your intervention?”

Beth stared at him open-mouthed. “I … that is, I saw that Mildred was upset and I wanted to help…”

“Did she ask? Did she specify that she desired you to act?”

“Well, no, but I had to. I could not bear it if she was humiliated by the
ton
.”

“So you decided to humiliate her yourself?”

“No. No.” Beth went pale and pressed her fingers to her lips. “I did not mean to.”

“This was poorly done by us, sister. I include myself in this, as I did not verify that my interference was requested. I undertook to carry out our plan, involving Mr. North in its completion, without considering the opinion of Mildred Boarder, the hostess. Were we to do thus for any other lady of the
ton
we would be justly shunned.”