The Courtesan's Bed (25 page)

“Not a damn thing. I went riding.”

“In this downpour? Are you mad?”

Her scrutiny made him aware of his heavy, sodden riding clothes that clung to his body and annoying rivulets of icy water trickling down his neck. He shivered. Funny, until now he hadn't felt like he'd been dunked in the Thames.

“You've got to get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death.”

He wiped his dripping face with the back of his hand, suddenly realizing that he'd gone riding in the pouring rain without his hat. Why hadn't his valet stopped him?

“My poor horse. I hope the groom gives her a good rubdown, throws a dry blanket on her and feeds her some hot mash. Wouldn't want the old girl to sicken and die on me.”

Why was Kate staring at him like he was speaking in tongues? Silly sister. Hadn't she ever heard a man express concern for his horse?

Anger flared in the depths of her eyes. “This can't go on another minute. It's intolerable!”

Kate's odd behavior quite bewildered him. “What's intolerable?”

“All the damn lies!” She balled her hands into fists, her eyes suspiciously bright. “What I've done to you and Miss Willett.”

Now the cold seeped deep into his bones, and he fought to keep his teeth from chattering. “What did you do to me and Miss Willett?” His beloved Régine, now lost to him. He wanted to cry, but that would be maudlin and unmanly, and he wouldn't disgrace himself in his sister's admiring eyes.

She looked for all the world like a general marshalling his troops to march into battle. “First, get out of those wet clothes.” She turned to the butler hovering discreetly in the background. “Take his lordship upstairs and find him something of the marquess's to wear.” She turned back to Darius. “Then join Papa and me in the dining room. I have something important to tell you.”

“Sefton must've proposed to you,” he said, “because you're turning into an imperious duchess right before my eyes. Practicing, are you?” What had she said about doing something to him and Régine? His brain was still a little foggy this morning. Too much alcohol last night and too little food this morning.

She smiled wanly. “Yes, he has, and I'm blissfully happy.” Her smile died, draining all the light from her face. “But that's not what I have to tell you.”

Before he could question her further, she turned on her heel and strode away, her back rigid with determination.

After Darius went upstairs with the butler and changed into warm, dry clothes and slippers that were too big for him, he toweled his sopping hair into some semblance of order and went down to the dining room.

His father was seated at the table eating a hearty breakfast of eggs and sausages, while Kate sipped coffee and quietly seethed. He knew that look. She was furious and trying to hide it. Unsuccessfully.

“Morning, Blackwall.” He squinted at his sister. When had she blossomed into such a beauty? Sefton was one lucky bastard indeed. “So, what is your big mystery?”

She rose and faced him with all the resignation of a prisoner headed for the gallows. “I'm responsible for Miss Willett renouncing you.”

“Kate!” Their father jumped to his feet. “No!”

“Yes!” She glared at him. “I can't stand to see my brother in such terrible anguish, turning into a befuddled ghost of his former self. He deserves to know what we did. He deserves to know the truth.”

Darius looked from one to the other. “The truth about what?”

She took a deep breath. “Miss Willett broke off your—your liaison because I begged her to.”

Surely Darius was going deaf. Did his beloved little sister just say
she
had asked Régine to end their liaison?

The marquess rounded the table. “Lady Katherine Granger, stop this at once. I forbid you to say anything more.”

“I'm an engaged woman. You can't forbid me to do anything.” She turned back to Darius. “When Papa returned from Paris, he told me that you and Miss Willett were lovers, and that she'd chosen a life of vice and became a courtesan. He convinced me that you two had to be separated because you needed to make a good marriage, and you wouldn't seek a suitable wife if you were ‘shackled to that whore', were his exact words. He also claimed that he had tried to talk some sense into you, but you refused to listen, and he was at his wits' end. Then he demanded that I go to Paris and convince her to give you up for my sake.” Kate's lower lip trembled. “I was afraid Sefton wouldn't offer for me if he knew my brother was consorting with a notorious fallen woman.”

Darius slid into the nearest chair, her astounding revelation quickly banishing the fog that surrounded his brain. “Why on earth would you ever think that? I've spoken to Sefton on several occasions. He's a decent chap, one I'd be proud to count as my brother-in-law. He certainly loves you, and I doubt that he would let something as insignificant as my behavior deter him from marrying you. I'm surprised you had so little faith in him.”

She bowed her head. “I know that now and am truly ashamed, but Papa played on my insecurities and convinced me otherwise. He also told me to beg Miss Willett not to tell you of my visit to Paris and my request. It was to be our secret.” She placed a remorseful hand on his shoulder. “I never thought she'd agree, but when you returned from Paris alone and so despondent, I realized she was exactly the same woman I'd remembered, kind and unselfish.” Her hand fell away. “Seeing you in such pain these last few weeks has been agony for me, but Papa insisted that we had no other recourse. We had to do this for your own good.” She fell on her knees beside his chair and looked up at him. “I am so, so sorry, Darius. I have been very selfish and done a horrible thing. I have no right to ask for your forgiveness.”

He placed his hand gently atop her head like he always did when she was a little girl in short skirts and pinafores. “Of course I forgive you, but I wish you had come to me when you were in Paris. I would've put your fears to rest.” And he never would've left Régine.

“I know that now. But I was so afraid Papa was right about Sefton, and I'd lose him because you and Miss Willett were lovers, living in sin and leading a scandalous life. His mother is good friends with the Queen and very disapproving by nature.”

Darius sighed deeply. Kate was still so young and insecure, so madly and blindly in love with the first man who'd caught her fancy, she failed to see past their father's clever machinations. He rose, pulling her to her feet. “Don't you worry your pretty little head a moment longer. Everything will be fine now that I know the truth.”

He looked over at his fuming father, and a murderous rage filled his heart.

The marquess didn't appear repentant. He reached for his coffee cup as casually as you please, took a sip and set it back down. “This changes nothing. Régine threw you over and has had a score of lovers by now.”

Darius thought of that blond Adonis embracing her in the drawing room, and his blood boiled.

Blackwall waved his hand. “So you may as well accept that you've lost her, son, and get on with your life. Buck up and have a little pride. Find a suitable woman to marry, and—”

“This isn't about my finding a suitable wife.” His father's true motives hit him like a lightning bolt. “I was right all along. You want her back.”

A telltale guilty flush swept up his father's face.

“Don't deny it. Now that you think you've gotten me out of the way, I'm surprised you didn't return to Paris by now and try to woo and win her.” He laughed at the absurdity of it.

“You both needed time to accept the fact that your liaison is over,” Blackwall said. “Besides, I'm a widower. My situation is different from yours. If I keep a mistress, it's of no consequence.”

Kate stared at her father in shock and disgust. “Is that true, Papa? Did you manipulate me so you could be with Miss Willett, after what the both of you did to my poor mama?”

“You are so young, my dear. You don't understand the needs that drive a passionate man.”

“I am not a child anymore.” She stamped her foot. “I am old enough to marry, and I am old enough to think for myself. I can't believe my beloved Papa could be so arrogant and—and unbelievably, incredibly selfish.”

“Such hysteria is unbecoming.” He regarded them both contemptuously, ever the imperious lord of the house. “Go to your room at once, young lady. You've done enough damage for one morning.”

Darius turned to her. “Do you want to stay here?”

“Not after what Papa has done.”

“Then pack a bag.” Darius fought to keep his temper under control. “You can stay in my house for as long as you like.”

“I'll only be a moment.” With one final, disillusioned glance at her father, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Darius folded his arms to keep from strangling his sire. “That was low, even for you. To use your own daughter so shamelessly…” His lip curled in a sneer. “You're pathetic.”

The marquess lifted his shoulder in a triumphant shrug. “My plan produced the desired results. You and Regina are no longer lovers.”

“But we will be again, so you've lost, old man. I'm leaving for Paris as soon as I can pack. And I don't care if she has a hundred lovers, I'll do whatever I must to win her back, and then I'm going to ask her to marry me.”

Blackwall turned a violent shade of dark red. “You can't. I will not tolerate a whore in this family.”

“You don't have a say in the matter. You never did.”

“I'll disown you, that's what I'll do. You won't inherit a single guinea from me.”

“Go ahead. In case you've forgotten, I have a rather large fortune of my own earned through my own efforts.”

He strode out into the foyer just as his sister was hurrying down the stairs with her bag. She wore a waterproof hooded ulster and carried one for him as well.

She handed him the coat. “I'm ready. Let's go.”

He put it on and realized he was still wearing slippers, but he didn't care if his feet got soaked. He just wanted to return to the woman he loved.

Their father came running after them and grabbed Darius's arm. “Think about what you're doing, the both of you.”

“Let go of me before I do more than fling you against the wall.”

His father dropped his arm and stepped back, genuinely alarmed.

“I'll send for the rest of my things once I'm settled,” Kate said. “And Emma must come to live with us. Unless, of course, you want me to tell her exactly what kind of man her beloved papa really is.”

The marquess extended a beseeching hand. “Don't leave, Kate. Please.”

She told the butler to bring the carriage around, and they left their father standing in the foyer, glaring balefully after his insolent children.

Paris

The party in Alice d'Alençon's apartment was too hot, too noisy and too crowded. Régine sat alone in a quiet corner with Alice's two adorable spoiled French bulldogs lying on their red velvet pillows nearby. She wished she were lying in Darius's arms, propped up against a bank of pillows in her bed. In the weeks since she'd so cruelly sent him away, her whole world had lost its vivid brightness and sparkle, as though she were seeing familiar landscapes smudged and blurred through a black mourning veil.

She'd sacrificed her own future happiness so Kate could have hers. So why didn't she feel noble and virtuous instead of empty and lonely?

A thousand times a day she would stop to wonder what Darius was doing right at that moment. Was he thinking about her despite what she'd done to him? Was he courting some Penbry-approved, respectable young noblewoman of impeccable lineage? Or had he found a new mistress? Jealousy stabbed her right through the heart.

Alice, a girlish vision in ivory lace, pushed her way through the crush and handed Régine a glass of champagne. She sat next to her. “Here. Drink this. It won't heal a broken heart, but it will dull the pain.”

Régine took a sip as ordered but didn't feel better.

Alice pouted. “My poor darling…you miss your dark, handsome English lord.”

Régine fought back tears. “I do, but I had to send him away for his own good.”

“Ah, so his family plans to marry him off to a simpering little miss worthy of his title. Well, I wouldn't have, and let his family be damned.” Alice's little-girl lisp suddenly disappeared. “Why is it that respectable women hold us in such contempt? True, we are harlots, but that doesn't mean we can't change and embrace a life of virtue if the right man comes along. In fact, many of our sisters have done just that.” She named a few. “But we are expected to sacrifice and give up our noble lovers to our respectable sisters.” She sighed. “It's quite unfair.”

Régine thought of Kate, which brought home the truth to Alice's words. She had expected Régine to give up Darius without thinking twice. And she had.

Tired of dwelling on the mistake she'd made, Régine scanned the room for her former protector, and when she didn't see him, said, “Where is Luc tonight?”

“With his wife. And I am with Duplan tonight.” She smiled. “As long as Luc doesn't object to my taking other lovers, I shall indulge to my heart's content.” She fluffed her curls. “I have my own needs, after all, and as you know, Luc cares only for his own satisfaction at the business end of a whip.” She looked around the room, checking faces. “We must find you another lover, darling, which shouldn't be hard at all, as there are many wealthy, available men here tonight.”

Régine wasn't interested in acquiring another lover but didn't want to argue with her friend. “Monsieur Clement wants to be my next protector.”

Alice frowned in distaste. “That annoying little man who snorts like a pig when he laughs?”

“The same.” Darius's laugh was a low, distinguished rumble that always sounded so joyful. Régine could listen to him laugh all day. “The Comte de Galbois wants me to initiate his youngest son.”