Simply Voracious (18 page)

“In what way?”

She looked down at her neatly folded gloved hands in her lap. “I thought you were more honest.”

“I am honest.”

“Can you swear to me that you don’t find men attractive?”

“Of course I can’t. But just because I find them attractive doesn’t mean I have to bed them.”

“Even with my permission?”

He regarded her for a long, cool moment and felt the faint stirring of his temper. There were very few people who even knew he
had
a temper or how to rouse it. Unfortunately Lucky was one of them. She was as tenacious as the duke when he spoke on a pet subject in the House of Lords.

“Actually, as your husband, I don’t need your permission to do anything.”

“That is true.” She nodded as though something he’d said satisfied her. “Does that mean I would need your permission to bed someone else?”

“What?”

She shrugged. “I thought the notion might be more palatable for you if we both had the same opportunities. But, as you just reminded me, you have more say in the matter simply because you are a man.”

Paul stiffened. “We’ve been married for less than a week. You’ve found someone else—
already
?”

“No, of course not, but would you let me if I wanted to?” She raised her gaze to his, and he found himself speechless. She reached across and patted his hand. “Don’t worry about it now. Are you looking forward to the opera?”

He pulled his hand away. “Lucky, if you think you can introduce such a topic and then casually discard it, you are very much mistaken.”

She turned to the window and looked out. “Oh, look, we are already here. Will you help me down, Paul? I fear the path is quite icy.”

Paul assisted Lucky out of the carriage and up the steps to the Covent Garden Opera House, his thoughts in a whirl, his mind simply unable to deal with the idea that his Lucky was contemplating a sexual adventure of her own. As he followed her up the stairs to the Haymore box, he reluctantly remembered that Madame Helene had offered him some advice too. Hadn’t she told him that he and Lucky didn’t have to have a conventional marriage, just one that suited them both?

Was he really not willing to extend the same liberties to his wife that she was offering to him? The idea was so unfamiliar that he couldn’t quite decide how he felt about it. It seemed he was more of a traditionalist than he’d thought. And Lucky was young; it was possible she had no idea what she was agreeing to.

“Paul?”

He started as she gazed up at him and hurriedly drew a chair out for her.

“Are you all right?”

“Not really.”

He sat next to her and studied her familiar face. She looked very smart in a blue silk gown that matched her eyes, and a sapphire-and-diamond necklace that he knew had been a gift from her mother. He wished he had the funds to buy her something beautiful, but as an ex-army lieutenant, despite his lofty expectations, he had very little money of his own.

“I’m still reeling from what you said to me in the carriage.”

“Did I offend you?”

He took her hand. “Not at all. I was just . . . surprised that you had even thought of such a thing.”

“I’ve always had a practical streak.”

“I know that and I’m quite glad of it. In your situation, most women would have had hysterics.”

She sighed. “And I have no sensibility at all.”

Paul gripped her hand tightly. “Lucky, I don’t want you to take a lover just because you want to make things easier for me.” She colored slightly and looked out over the packed theater. Paul pressed his point. “Unless there is someone you already care about?”

“If there was someone else, I would have asked him to marry me instead of you, wouldn’t I?”

“Ah, good point.” He regarded her closely. “Are you sure about that?”

She smiled. “I’ve only met one other man who treated me with the same care and civility that you do.”

“Who is that?”

“That is none of your business,” she said severely.

“Don’t you want to introduce him to me?”

“Now you are being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.” He took a deep breath. “If you truly wish to grant me my freedom within our marriage, I would insist that you had the same rights.”

She raised her gaze to his. “Really?”

“Absolutely. In fact, here is my counteroffer to you. If you find a man who loves you and you want him,
then
I promise I’ll find someone else.”

She touched his cheek, her expression serious. “But we would still remain married and be best friends?”

“If that was what we both wanted, yes.”

He held her gaze and hoped she could read only sincerity in his. By putting the onus back on her to find a true love, he believed he had averted a crisis. If, in the future, she grew dissatisfied with him, at least she knew she could find another man and that he would never hold it against her. In the meantime, they were still married, and he would remain faithful to her.

“There is one more thing,” Paul said.

“What is it?”

“Do you want me in your bed or not?” The thought of not being with Lucky was surprisingly unsettling. “I thought you were determined to provide me and the duke with an heir.”

She sighed. “I don’t want you there if it is distasteful to you.”

“Did I appear disgusted?”

“I suppose not.”

“Did I hurt you like that other man did?”

“No, you gave me great pleasure.”

It was his turn to sigh. “What do I have to do to convince you that I want to share your bed?”

She bit down on her lower lip, and he wanted to draw her into his arms and hold her close. Perhaps she didn’t have an answer for him, and he should stop forcing her to make a decision. He’d hated it when Gabriel had insisted on trying to control his love life.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “If you want me, you know where I am. Now, do you want to attend the Marshalls’ ball after this performance or not?”

“It seems that you were right, Delinsky.”

“Right about what?”

“Paul St. Clare’s marriage.”

Constantine looked up from his breakfast as Thomas Wesley tossed the morning newspaper at him. It wasn’t the local paper, but one of the London ones that often took a day or two to reach them. He had to squint to read the small print, as the breakfast room was still quite dark. A series of thunderstorms had swept through the countryside overnight, leaving the grounds littered with fallen leaves and debris.

Con opened the paper and scanned the narrow columns until his gaze fell on the small announcement. “Ah, they were married a few days ago in a small private ceremony.”

Thomas took the seat opposite him and poured himself some coffee. He had the wind-blown look of a man who had already been out riding in the blustery autumnal air.

“I suppose they kept it private because of the last duke’s recent death.”

“I assume so.” Con shut the paper and carefully folded it up again. Despite knowing this was the likely outcome, he still felt sick to his stomach. “Well, I wish them joy.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “You don’t sound particularly pleased about it. Did you not expect him to go through with it?”

“He told me he was going to do it, and I believed him.”

“Perhaps he’ll come around eventually, and you’ll see him again.”

Con pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, his appetite deserting him. “Unless I want to live permanently in the countryside or abroad, I’ll have to see him again.”

Thomas looked up at him. “That’s not quite what I meant.”

Con forced a smile. “I know, but I’m not going to hang around on the off chance that he’ll change his mind. It wouldn’t be fair to his wife or to me.”

“And you’d still be tempted, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.” Con met Thomas’s sympathetic gaze. “I’m ashamed to say that I would.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, old fellow. You can’t help loving someone.” Thomas grimaced. “I know all about that.”

“But I don’t usually fall in love with men, especially not so quickly.”

“More’s the pity,” Thomas said softly. “Are you going to look for the love of a good woman instead? I’m sure there would be many women eager to console you. You are a very handsome man.”

Con headed for the door. “You flatter me. With this white hair I look about twice my age.”

“And every woman I’ve ever met has told me how it makes you look so foreign and delicious.”

Con paused at the door. “You discuss me with other people?”

Thomas shrugged. “Of course I do. The
ton
thrives on gossip, and you are a prime subject for it.”

“When have I ever done anything to merit such attention?”

“As I said, you are young, handsome, apparently unwed, and you have that devilish foreign accent.”

“I will never understand English society,” Con muttered. “Will you be very surprised if I thank you most kindly for your hospitality and tell you that I need to get back to Town?”

“I suppose you want to get it over with, eh?” Thomas rose to his feet and came to shake Con’s hand. “I’ve enjoyed your visit immensely.”

“I cannot thank you enough for offering me this sanctuary in my time of need. If there is ever anything I can do for you in return, please let me know.”

Thomas patted his shoulder. “It was nothing. We military men have to support each other.”

Con held his gaze. “Then, thank you.”

“I hope you find your happiness as I have done with the Minshoms, and I’ll be sure to discuss your marital situation with the Russian ambassador.”

“There is no need for that, but I appreciate your interest.”

Thomas grinned. “You never know what might happen, Delinsky. It’s always best to be prepared for anything.”

15

D
espite the slight drizzle of rain, Constantine put on his cloak and decided to walk from his rooms to the mansion on Great Portland Street where the ball was taking place. Having grown up in Saint Petersburg, he thought the English made far too much fuss about their mildly cold weather. It would take him longer to find a hackney cab than it would to walk, and he liked the feel of the cold air on his face.

The street leading up to the square was already clogged with carriages. He had to cross and re-cross the road several times to avoid shouting coachmen jostling for position and footmen sent out by the big house to help guests alight. He looked up at the mansion, which was ablaze with lights, and wondered if Paul and his unknown bride were already there.

He’d decided to make their meeting as public as possible and on his own terms. At the ball he would hardly be expected to do more than acknowledge the happy couple and move on. No one would require anything more from him, and that suited him perfectly. After the initial meeting, he could only hope things would become easier.

He climbed the steps, and a footman relieved him of his cloak and hat. The vestibule was crowded and the roar of conversation seemed to reverberate around the space, making even the crystals in the chandeliers tremble. Con took a deep breath and started up the stairs to the ballroom from where he could already hear the sound of an orchestra tuning up.

The woman in front of him stopped abruptly, and Con inadvertently trod on her train. Before he could warn her, she started moving again, only to be yanked backward into Con’s arms.

“I do apologize, ma’am, my boot . . .” Con stopped talking as he recognized his fair captive. “My lady, what a pleasant surprise. If you will just give me a moment to remove my weight from your train, all will be well again.”

“It is of no consequence, sir. I was the one who stopped moving.”

He smiled down at her, aware of the press of people around them but content to share the moment with her. Unlike most women, she wasn’t lamenting her ripped hem or shrieking at him for being so clumsy. It made for a refreshing change. In truth, even in extremis, he remembered she had behaved remarkably calmly.

“Do you need to fix your dress? May I escort you to the ladies’ retiring room?”

“That would be very kind of you.” She glanced up at him as the crowd before them eased a little and they moved forward. Her dark hair was braided into a coil on the top of her head with a few ringlets framing her face. “It’s Lieutenant Colonel, isn’t it?”

He inclined his head. “Indeed, my lady. Lieutenant Colonel Delinsky. I assume our mutual acquaintance Miss Ross told you who I was.”

“Yes, she did, although seeing as how you always appear at just the right moment to save me from embarrassment, I should have asked your name earlier.”

“It is of no matter, my lady. I was just pleased to be of service.”

They reached the top of the stairs, and Con looked about him for a servant to direct them toward the retiring room. He located a footman, gained the necessary information, and set off again with his lady across the wide landing to a concealed hallway.

“You don’t need to wait for me, sir.” She gave him a grateful smile. “I’m sure I can find my way back to the ballroom from here.”

He bowed. “It would be my pleasure to escort you back to your party, my lady, and perhaps help explain your disappearance.”

She nodded and went into the room, leaving him leaning against the wall with the opportunity of observing quite unseen the guests as they arrived. Despite her youth, his companion was an interesting woman. Unlike his late wife, he could well imagine her following the drum without complaint. He sighed. Not that there would be much more of that in his future. With Napoléon beaten, his career was finished, unless he managed to gain a promotion, and that, too, was unlikely without money or influence.

The door opened and he looked up, but it wasn’t his lady. It was two young debutantes, who giggled and whispered when they saw him and giggled even more when he nodded a cordial greeting. He recalled Thomas Wesley’s words about his mysterious popularity with the ladies and wondered if he should start frowning at everyone instead.

He straightened as the door opened again.

“I’m ready, Lieutenant Colonel.” She glanced down at her gown. “It only took a few stitches to reattach the lace.”