The Lodestone (47 page)

“Indeed, sir,” Paolo assured him. “I know my contessa would like to be the one to tell you, but I cannot contain the happy news. We are expecting a child.”

After congratulating the count, Drake exclaimed, “How refreshing it is to be among kindred spirits, and know I have no need to hide my feelings for my lady beneath a cloak of propriety.”

“I have always abhorred propriety,” Paolo said, his features flushed as he watched Drake’s hand settle with familiarity at Cleome’s waist. “And like you, I cannot bear to be parted from the light of my life. We’ll take the horses, Mr. Stoneham, and the ladies will accompany us in the carriage. They will be quite comfortable, I assure you.”

It seemed the count was bound to his young wife by an invisible chain. While he watched Drake caress Cleome at every opportunity and laughed enthusiastically at his lewd comments, Paolo didn’t let Edwina out of his sight. They toured the orchards and the winery, inspected the livestock, the granary and the dairy, had a picnic in a secluded lagoon and then made their way back to the villa in the late afternoon. Not once was Cleome able to draw Edwina aside.

“I am delighted to have you here,” Paolo told Drake as a groom took their horses. “We’ll do everything we can to make you comfortable.”

“I trust it will not scandalize you if we share a room,” Drake said, drawing Cleome’s hand briefly to his lips when he’d helped her down from the carriage. “We’d like that, wouldn’t we, my darling?”

“To be sure,” Cleome agreed, trying to keep the edge from her voice.

“When Edwina read your letter to me, that was our assumption,” the count assured them. “I’ve had your luggage taken to the lilac room. After your journey and our gadding about today, you must be in need of rest. I’ll order an early dinner.”

“I would be pleased if Edwina could play for us afterward,” suggested Cleome. “I am never too tired to hear her music.”

“Yes, oh yes!” Edwina could not contain her joy. “May I, Paolo?”

“Of course,” her husband replied. “But in the meantime, I’m sure our guests would like to freshen up. I’ll send in a bath for you, milady.”

“How kind you are,” Cleome responded pleasantly, taking Paolo’s arm as he escorted her into the house, with Drake and Edwina following. Cleome had no intention of allowing him to ogle her in the bath, and she certainly was not ready to share so intimate an endeavor with Drake. “I appreciate your consideration, Paolo; but it has been such a long time since Edwina and I have seen each other. I’d prefer to complete my toilette in her room so we can dress together as we used to. I’m sure she will not mind.”

A wicked gleam sparkled in Drake’s eye and Cleome could have throttled him when he commented, “Ah, Paolo. Think of it . . . to witness such a lovely sight. It fires the imagination, does it not?”

“Indeed, it does,” Paolo agreed, outwitted for the moment. “We can but dream of such a charming scene.”

“I must stipulate one condition,” Drake interjected. “Since my beloved is to deny me the pleasure of helping her dress, she must wear what I select for her.” He turned to Cleome. “I’ll bring it up to you, my darling.”

“Of course, my heart.” Cleome struggled to keep the sarcasm from her tone.

“Very well,” Paolo agreed. He bowed to the ladies and then turned to Drake, “It appears we are to be left to our own devices until dinnertime. Can I interest you in a game of billiards, sir?”

Chapter Nineteen

It was obvious that Paolo had no intention of allowing Cleome and Edwina any time alone. As soon as they entered the house he went to a bell cord in the foyer and on his summons, two servants bustled in, eager to do his bidding. According to Garnett’s description, Cleome thought, they could be none other than Sophia and Bernardo. Paolo gave them orders in Italian and they scurried away. Edwina stood at the bottom of the staircase, her attention focused on her husband, as if waiting to be dismissed.

“You look tired, my dear,” he told her. “If you do not feel well enough to come down to dinner, I’ll have a tray sent up. We must take great care with you now.”

“I am perfectly well, Paolo,” she assured him and turned to Cleome. “You see how my devoted
esposo
worries about me. Am I not the most fortunate girl in the world?” To Paolo she added, “When am I to see Dr. Rupert again? He’ll tell you I am in the best of health.”

“The doctor has gone to the Orient,” Paolo explained patiently. “You remember. I told you he would be gone a month.”

“Ah, yes,” Edwina said. “He must replenish his pharmacy. Yes, I do remember.” With that, she took Cleome’s arm and started up the stairs. When they were more than half way up she whispered hurriedly, “Do not say much in front of Sophia. She pretends not to understand but her English is quite good.”

Cleome saw that Edwina’s room was immaculate but devoid of any way in which she could entertain herself or exercise her mind. There was a bed, a vanity, a wardrobe, a full-length mirror, a rocking chair and footstool, an embroidery stand and a sewing basket. There were no books or sheets of music, no writing paper, and no piano. Apparently, Paolo considered women capable of nothing but needlepoint but Cleome knew that was not an accurate summation. Paolo did think women useful for certain things, none of them pleasant or fulfilling.

They were inside only a moment when Sophia appeared. Behind her were two big men, each bearing a large copper bathtub, which they placed side by side in the middle of the room. When they left, two other men entered carrying large copper cans of hot water, which they poured into the tubs. Before the water could cool, Bernardo and the other guard came in again, with two more cans of hot water. As the tubs filled, Sophia added scented oil and rose petals. When the last two male servants departed, Paolo ushered Drake in. Over one arm, Drake had a satin gown of dark cherry red and over the other, he had Cleome’s silk stockings, a pair of red silk drawers that he laughingly said were the rage in Paris, and a collection of other undergarments; and in one large hand, he held a pair of her slippers. Seeing that the tubs were ready, Paolo said something in Italian to Sophia, and she dropped a quick curtsy.

“Frills and furbelows for milady,” Drake announced and with a bow, he presented the clothing he carried to Cleome.

“I see you’ve thought of everything,” she said and blushed in spite of casting herself in the role of courtesan.

“I am nothing if not thorough,” Drake countered. He drew her close to him and whispered in her ear, “You will thank me for it later.” She did not miss Paolo’s slow smile and the flicker of interest in his eyes when Drake squeezed her bottom before releasing her.

Sophia hung Cleome’s dress in the wardrobe and laid the more intimate items out on the bed next to Edwina’s things. The count gazed at the lingerie a moment and then turned to Drake.

“Come along, sir,” he said, his voice tight. “I believe we have an appointment with billiards and that excellent brandy you brought.”

When the two gentlemen had gone, Sophia said, with a heavy accent, “If you please, contessa? Or I help your friend first?”

Edwina turned her back to Cleome and replied, “Thank you, Sophia, but we can help each other. Cleome, dear, undo my hooks and then I’ll do yours.” Cleome obliged and Edwina quickly stepped out of her gown. As Sophia went to the bell pull, her mistress ordered, “Do not ring for Rosa. We are quite capable. In the meantime, go and fetch the screen from the small dressing room so that we can place it between the bathtubs.”

Sophia looked at her uncertainly and remained where she stood.

Edwina continued as she undid the fastenings of Cleome’s dress, “We are two ladies who wish to preserve our modesty. Go and do as I bid you, Sophia. Immediately.”

The maid curtsied again and left the room as Cleome stepped out of her gown. “That was brilliant, Eddy. How long do we have?” And then together, they went over every detail of the plan for escape.

**

Although dinner was a veritable feast, accompanied by the finest champagne and red wine Paolo’s vineyards had to offer, Cleome scarcely tasted anything. And afterwards, when Edwina played for them, Cleome could tell no one’s mind was on music—except perhaps Edwina’s. Any doubt Cleome had that they would be able to fool Paolo was gone now, for Drake was giving the performance of a lifetime, and the count was studying them intently. In the dining room, as Paolo watched, Drake had fed her tidbits of food and made sure that her wine glass was always full. He had buttered her bread and looked into her eyes with longing; and now, in the formal sitting room, he sat next to her on a small couch, his arm about her shoulders as Edwina played the final note of a beautiful sonata. He praised her performance and then bid their host and hostess good night, as he could no longer wait for his bed and his beloved.

Bernardo escorted Drake and Cleome to the lilac bedroom. He opened the door, lit their lamps and candelabra, bowed and closed the door behind him when he took his leave. Soft candlelight gleamed on yet another bottle of Paresi champagne.

“Don’t you think you overdid it just a bit?” Cleome whispered.

“Careful, milady. Even if he cannot hear us, he can certainly see the exasperation on your face.”

“Surely it will take him a few moments to make his way into his awful little closet.” Cleome looked around at the lavishly decorated room. It was too ornate for her taste but no one would ever guess it was a theater for the count’s own private amusement. “At least we are not locked in. I saw no sign of bolts outside the door.”

“No, he wouldn’t chance arousing our suspicion—but I noticed that it’s freshly painted, so they were recently removed. Now, we must prepare. Position yourself on that chaise—seductively, if you please. Fan your skirts around you, and show a little ankle.”

“I think it would take more than the sight of my ankles to arouse Paolo, considering what he’s accustomed to.”

He chuckled. “You’re right, of course. But it’s a start. Now, here’s what we’re going to do.” From his coat pocket, he produced a deck of cards.

“What’s that for? Surely not another cribbage game?”

“No, but it will buy us time.” He placed the cards on a table near the chaise and poured them both a glass of champagne. “Sip it slowly,” he advised her. “We want our wits about us.” He sat on the edge of the chaise, facing her, and took a drink of his wine. Then he began to shuffle the cards. “Now, in a few moments, I am going to begin caressing you and you will return my caresses—ardently.”

He looks more handsome than ever,
she thought,
the way the candlelight plays over his rugged features.
But she only remarked, “And the cards?”

“A simple game,” he said. “We take turns shuffling and cutting the deck. Then we each draw a card. If yours is higher than mine, you take an article of clothing from me. If mine is higher, I take something from you.”

“I see,” she replied, wondering if he had ever played this game before—and with whom. “How clever. I trust you will keep to a slow pace?” Even knowing that Paolo would be watching them, every sense she possessed came alive with anticipation.

“Slow and steady, I assure you. And if we do not hear an explosion at the crucial moment, I shall instigate an argument with you,” he said. “This may be our only chance to save Edwina. You must not give us away. You must seem to be sincere in our little pantomime. There’s no backing out now, Cleome.”

“I am ready.”

**

Edwina continued to play until Paolo ordered her to go to her room. She rose and closed the piano and then said to him, “Once more, Paolo, I implore you not to spy on my friends. Please, leave them some dignity.”

“Come along, my dear. I’ll see you up and say goodnight.”

“And lock me in yourself, so that you can be sure I do not warn them of your loathsome habit?” She could not resist taunting him, and she was afraid if she did not protest, he would grow suspicious.

“Don’t be tiresome, wife. One word to them and you’ll never see your piano—or hear music—ever again.”

**

Once he’d seen Edwina safely secured, Paolo poured himself another glass of champagne and then made his way to the secret closet that ran around three sides of the lilac bedroom. He didn’t want to miss a moment of the erotic scene he knew was about to transpire.

He entertained but a fleeting thought that he should be concerned about the intentions of his guests. While he knew Garnett could have gone straight back to London and confessed all to Stoneham and Lady Houghton-Parker, he thought the younger Lord Easton valued his family’s reputation and his own life enough to prevent that. And Paolo was not a fool. He’d sent Bernardo out to Drake’s ship that afternoon with a cask of his most potent wine for the crew. Bernardo had reported that there were only a few scrawny old men and a boy on board; and that the first mate had ordered the cask opened as Bernardo left them. Paolo was sure they were drunk before their master had finished his dinner. And truth be told, the gambler and his lady were far more interested in each other than they were in Edwina. Cleome was a bit stiff, he thought, but that was to be expected as she hadn’t as much experience as the master of Stoneham House, whose reputation for amorous conquests was unsurpassed in half a dozen countries.

Oh, but they were well matched—Drake with his broad shoulders, long legs and powerful build, and Cleome with her full bosom and tiny waist that sloped to perfectly rounded hips. Paolo shivered with greedy anticipation at the thought of watching them copulate. Foregoing even a candle to light his way, he felt along the walls until he came to the chair that was set close to the wall. Carefully holding his wine, he quietly took his seat and leaned forward, putting one eye against the crack and looking down on the scene below. He was happy to see that his timing was perfect.

The beautiful Lady Houghton-Parker reclined on the chaise, and her lover was kneeling at her feet, removing her shoes—or, more precisely, one of her shoes. Drake put his hand beneath Cleome’s skirt and moved it slowly up (teasing her, Paolo assumed) and then he lifted her foot and kissed the stocking-clad arch of it.
Ah
, Paolo thought,
the man certainly has style
.