Taste of Desire (23 page)

Marguerite could feel her color rise at the compliment
. Lady Smythe-Burke had good things to say about her? She would never have expected that. “A simpering young Miss without a thought in her head” would have been the words she expected. Realizing she had been silent too long, she answered Felicity. “That is pleasant to hear and, although I must confess I know little about you, it is clear that Peter holds you in high regard and that you have raised two sons into respectable men, even if Tristan refuses to – Oh, dear. I am not sure that came out quite the way I meant it.”

Felicity patted her arm reassuringly
. “I do understand. What is between Tristan and myself must be kept between the two of us. I do not know how he will take our growing acquaintance, but I am ready to risk it, are you?”

Marguerite pondered for a moment
. Tristan refused to discuss his mother, had done all he could to keep them apart, but somehow she did not think she would be chastised by more than a glare for spending time with Felicity. And even if she was, it was worth such a risk to find a friend. “Yes,” she said firmly, “I am ready to brave whatever dragons he may summon.”

Felicity laughed and held out a hand
. “Then come. I was heading to the park myself. You are correct, the weather is irresistible.”

Feeling encouraged, Marguerite said, “I asked you before to tell me about Tristan when he was young and you pushed aside the question
. Is there not anything you can tell me that will help me understand him, without betraying whatever it is that lies between you?”

“You do ask difficult questions
. I can see why my son likes you. Ah, I see the doubt in your face. He would never have married you if he didn’t. More doubt. I know that the circumstances between you were most unusual, but I do know this about my son. No matter what he may tell himself, he holds marriage sacred. He would not have married you if on some level he did not think you would make a good wife for him.”

“But, you do not understand –“

“I don’t need to. Tristan and I were the best of friends, as well as mother and son, until his father’s death. I do know my son. Despite what has happened since, I do not believe his basic character has changed.”

Marguerite shook her head slowly
. “He is so confusing.”

“He always was
. He thinks he is wiser than everybody else, and most of the time he happens to be right. It is a most troubling dilemma. Because he always thinks he’s right, he can have very little tolerance for others, although,” and here she grinned at Marguerite, “he is always intrigued by what he doesn’t understand. He can’t stop thinking about it. He does love a puzzle.”

“I am not sure I understand what that has to do with me.
”

“I think it has everything to do with you,” Felicity replied
. “I’ve yet to see you with Tristan, but my instincts are telling me you may be just what he needs.”

They crossed the street and walked into the park
. For a few moments neither spoke as they gazed up at the newly budded branches. Marguerite filled her lungs and could almost smell the coming spring.

“You still have
n’t told me anything that would help me understand Tristan. What was he like as a child?” Marguerite picked a leaf off a bush and twirled it between her fingers.

“He was delightful, so full of joy and quickness
. He was never able to sit still for a moment and then I’d turn around and he’d be a different child, quiet and studious, his nose pressed into a book or moving chessmen about a board in patterns only he could see. Does that help?”

Marguerite snorted
. “So really you are telling me he has not changed at all. It is impossible to reason what he will do next.”

“I did not say that
. I said he was changeable, not unpredictable. He moves rapidly from thing to thing until one engages his mind, and then once engaged he is almost impossible to pry away.” Felicity paused and regarded Marguerite carefully. “Until he becomes bored. Then he flits and flutters until he finds another activity that fascinates him.

“I
consoled myself during his wild behavior of recent years by deciding that he simply could not find anything to hold his attention and so was constantly seeking that certain something. When I first heard of his marriage, I hoped he had found it.”

“I am sorry that all was not as you expected,” Marguerite answered
. She turned to stare across the park. It was difficult to meet Felicity’s gaze. A high curricle pulled up at edge of the grass. Marguerite froze as she recognized the woman seated in it. A low contralto laugh echoed through the nearly empty park.

It was the redhead,
Violet, the woman she had seen on her first night in Town and then again at the ball, pulling Tristan away from the dance, and from her. Tristan’s mistress. She pressed her fingertips tight together and tried to look calm.

Felicity had also turned at the sound of the laugh
. “Now there is a woman who could tell you how to understand Tristan.”

“Is she his – mistress?
” Marguerite had to force the word out.

“All of London thinks so, or at least that she was
. She’s rumored to be about on her own again.”

“Oh.
” Marguerite did not know what else to say.

“All of London is wrong
about the relationship, however.” Felicity spoke with quiet authority.

“They are?
” Marguerite could not contain the note of elation that colored her reply.

“Yes
. Violet, Lady Carrington, was for a long time engaged in a – shall we say – relationship with Tristan’s dearest friend. They may have parted on comfortable terms, but Tristan would still have regarded it as poaching to become involved with her. There are some things a mother does know about her son. Rather, I think, he enjoyed her company and she his. It might very well have suited them to sit and play chess late into the night, while those about them made their assumptions.

“Assumptions are easily made and hard to change.
” A bitter note entered Felicity’s voice as she said this last. Marguerite was not sure she was speaking about Lady Carrington any longer.

“She is so beautiful.
” Marguerite’s gaze was still fastened on Lady Carrington, who was batting at the hands of the young man who sat beside her and held the reins of the curricle. “I wager she never needed to be taught she was alive.”

“I am afraid I don’t understand.”

“Tristan is always saying that to me. I wonder sometimes if I just do not make sense.”

Felicity nodded with sympathy
. “My husband was always saying the same to me. No matter how they might love us, men simply lack the capacity for understanding how we think.”

“But, it is preposterous to even think that Tristan loves me
. That has never been the issue. And it was you who said you did not understand me.”

Felicity turned and stared back at Violet Carrington
. “I am afraid you are going to think I am the one who lacks sense.” She took Marguerite firmly by the arm and strode off towards the curricle. “You need to meet her. If anyone can answer your questions about men, and your husband in particular, it’s Violet.”

“But – but
-” Marguerite tried to plant her feet firm. “Isn’t it most improper? I did not think she was respectable. I do not see why –“

“Well, she’s not unrespectable either
. She’s never actually stepped beyond the pale. She may hover at the borders and probably lacks for invitations to tea, but there are very few who would turn her from their doors. And as for being improper – I believe the word I would use is unusual. Still, I think she’s just who you need.” The last was said in an undertone as they stopped beside the carriage. “Violet, I thought that was you. It’s been too long since we’ve spoken. You’re doing well, I trust.” Felicity clearly did not lack for shyness.

Lady Carrington looked momentarily
taken aback at the intrusion, her eyes growing wide as she saw Marguerite, then her gaze turned considering. She studied Marguerite from the soles of her shoes to the top of her upswept curls. “You do know how to create an interesting situation, Felicity. I’d always thought that was my function in society.” She turned and patted the leg of the gentleman beside her. “Let me introduce, Bickles, he’s Gatfield’s heir.”

The lad, now that Marguerite was t
his close it was clear that he was no older than she, turned almost purple with either embarrassment or pleasure, it was impossible to determine which. He stammered his greetings and then sat still, his eyes following every move that Lady Carrington made.

Felicity nodded as the introductions were completed
. Then came a moment of awkward silence. Marguerite fought the urge to withdraw. She was not sure that Felicity’s plan of talking to Lady Carrington was decent or sound – and even worse, she was not convinced that there was nothing but friendship between Lady Carrington and her husband – but she had to admit there was no better source of information.

Realizing the moment was passing by, Felicity sprang into action
. “Violet, I thought perhaps Marguerite, the new Lady Wimberley, and I would call tomorrow. Will you be home to us?”

Marguerite was shocked by the directness of Felicity’s approach
. She admitted to a certain admiration as well.

Lady Carrington, however, took it all in stride
. “May I ask the purpose of the visit? Or is it some deep secret?”

“I’ve heard you’re the one with all the secrets
. Is it not enough to that we simply wish your company? I think that may be the best explanation at the moment.” Felicity’s gaze fastened on Bickles, who was following the conversation with interest.

Lady Carrington caught the glance and she waved her understand
ing. “Like that, is it? Then I look forward to your visit. I am sure you will satisfy my curiosity on the morrow. Come, Bickles, we must be off if you wish to show me again how well you handle the reins before the streets are crowded. I will see you tomorrow, ladies.”

The curricle drew into the street
. Felicity and Marguerite stood for a moment and then turned towards home. They were quiet, but this time the silence was not awkward, but companionable.

As the
y drew close to Tristan’s grand house – she still worked to think of it as her own – Marguerite decided to speak. “Are you sure that was wise? I am not certain I will have the courage to speak, must less ask a question. Why would she wish to speak to me?”

Felicity lifted a brow
. “Haven’t you ever realized that people simply like to talk? If you take a sincere interest almost anybody will answer a direct question. As for being wise, do you really worry about such things?”

“Of course, does not everyone?
”

Felicity turned and took both her hands
. “No, I don’t think either the truly wise or the truly happy spend much time at all on such thoughts.”

Marguerite did not know how to reply
. She understood Felicity’s point, but still . . . And besides, Felicity might know her son, but she had not seen Tristan with Lady Carrington’s legs across his lap. Surely, that moved them beyond being
friends
.

“I see you are not convinced.
” Felicity spoke with care. “You shouldn’t pucker your brow so. It will leave wrinkles.”

Marguerite immediately
let her face smooth. “I am not certain that there is really nothing between them. It would not be a comfortable situation for her, surely, to be confronted by her lover’s wife.” There, she had said it. Marguerite had hoped that putting it into words would release the knot that held her stomach wrapped. It did not.

“You did not believe me about them
. I truly do know my son. He would never betray a friend in such a fashion.”

“But, you said that his friend had already broken it off with Lady Carrington
. I do not see how it would be a betrayal for –“

“Tristan has strong ideas of fidelity.
” Felicity dropped Marguerite’s hands and turned away. “Nobody knows that as well as I. For most men it might not have required a second thought to act in such a manner, but Tristan would never even consider it. It is the one area in which he takes no risks.”

Marguerite sensed there was some
thing Felicity did not say, but the knot in her belly slipped a little looser. Did she dare believe? “I will trust you enough to accompany you tomorrow. I can only hope that you are correct.”

Felicity turned back to Marguerite
, and leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “You are the daughter I always dreamed of and with whom I was never blessed. I would not wish you to give in too quickly. A woman must hold fast to her convictions. It is one of the few strengths we have. Shall I tell you something? I would never have believed a few hours ago, much less a week ago, that I would feel this way – have expected you to follow me to Violet’s curricle.”

“
You did have rather a firm grip on my arm. As for the other, I agree I would never have expected this morning that I would feel affection for you by mid-day, although I must say you remind me more of my sister than my mother.”