Tonight or Never (17 page)

The action did not go unnoticed by John, who was at a loss to understand why Chloe was suddenly upset with him. The wink he had given the countess was not even a glimmer in his thoughts. What was in his thoughts was getting his wife back to their bedchamber as soon as possible.

He couldn't recall ever wanting a woman so much
. Since that first taste of her, she had been driving him mad! He had been in a state of
semiarousal
since they had come down to the sitting room.

Uncomfortable, he shifted his position on the settee.

His emerald eyes fixed their sights on her pouting lower lip. The exact feel of that luscious, soft lip on certain parts of his body came to mind, hitting three of his five senses at once.

He shifted his position again.

"An amazing story,
Zu-Zu
.
Everyone in
London town is talking about him, you know." Percy paused to take a sip of his tea.

"Speaking of which, where is every one?" John gazed around the room, noting for the first time the absence of the upper ten thousand from his house.

Percy gaped at him. "Did you not hear the racket yesterday when they cleared out, John?"

An embarrassing silence filled the void.

"No; don't suppose you would have." That the viscount was summarily engaged with his new bride to the point that he had not even perceived the sound of scores of conveyances being loaded and the mass exit of a great many people said much for the alluring charm of Lady Sexton.

Percy covered his faux pas smoothly by returning to the subject of the Black Rose. "They say he is completely daring, laughing in the face of the proletariat as he sweeps the aristocracy from under their noses. Naturally, we must take these stories
cum
grano
salts
, with a grain of salt."

"I say he was utterly charming, darling."
Zu-Zu
was certainly biased about the man who had saved her life. "I owe him everything.
Everything!"

And probably gave it to him, John thought, weary of the woman's habit of
overdramatizing
every sentence she spoke.

"I have written a poem about him; would you like to hear it,
Zu-Zu
?" Percy practically chortled.

"Yes, I would love to!"
Zu-Zu
reached for a bonbon on the table next to her.

"Oh, please do, Sir Percy!" Chloe clapped her hands.

Damn and blast
! John gritted his teeth.
Not the poem
.

With a flourish, Percy stood up, positioning himself in the center of the room so not an eye could wander away from his performance without his knowledge.

He cleared his throat noisily.
Three times.

"They seek him high, they seek him low;

The
proletariat wonder
where he could go;

Near or far, where can anyone suppose…

Is that blasted, evasive Rose!"

Everyone applauded vigorously at the delightful ditty.

Everyone, that was, except John, who sat stone faced.

"Thank you, thank you!" Percy beamed, blowing kisses to the room at large.

John groaned.
Spare me
.

He leaned over to speak quietly to Chloe. "Let's go back upstairs, sweet. This is boring me and I can think of better things for us to do."

Chloe swerved her head, almost bumping his nose. "Everyone else is enjoying it, John; perhaps you should continue winking at the Countess
Zambeau
—then you shan't be so bored." She faced away from him.

"What are you talking about?" He spoke low so the others wouldn't hear.

Chloe focused forward, speaking from out of the side of her mouth. "If you wish her attentions, then that is your choice, Lord Sexton; I will consider the agreement between us over."

Chloe held her breath, waiting to see what he would do. She didn't have to wait long.

"
You will do nothing of the kind, madam
!" he all but roared.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

He instantly lowered his voice. "The
agreement is definitely in effect—remember
that, Lady Sexton."

Chloe exhaled.
"If you insist."
She toyed with him, not able to stop herself. It was so pleasant after all these years to see John squirm.

"I do, indeed."

Chloe shrugged as if the matter were of no concern to her one way or the other.

Those patrician nostrils of his flared.

It was more than she could have hoped for at this juncture. John was coming along very nicely. He was nowhere near the finish line, but he was making excellent progress.

And for that he deserved a little reward.

She took hold of his chin with her thumb and forefinger and brought him closer to her, placing a soft kiss on his mouth.

He viewed her suspiciously. "What was that for?"

"To seal the continuation of the agreement."

"Oh, I see." His eyes twinkled. "You'll have to do it again, Chloe-cat… I don't think that one took."

Smiling at his ploy, she brushed his mouth again. He surprised her by quickly wiggling his tongue on her lips as they swept his mouth. She giggled.

"What are you two wicked people doing over there?"
Zu-Zu
interrupted their pleasant play.

"We're waiting to hear more of your story,
Zu-Zu
." John smiled at the galling woman, showing her his teeth.

"There is more, but, my darlings, I am afraid it is not pleasant."

John said in an aside to Chloe, "Some of this was pleasant? What have I missed?"

"
Shh
! I think she has some important news."

"It is a black day for
France."
Zu-Zu
lowered her fan; a single tear fell from her eye.

"What is it?" Maurice was alarmed.

"The
Cyndreacs
.
They were taken." Her voice was for once without its bouncy inflection.

Grandmere
and Chloe both shouted at this bit of news.

The exclamations were followed by a large snore from
Deiter
.

"Not the
Cyndreacs
!" Chloe was appalled.

"
Mon
Dieu
, it cannot be—all of
France will weep this day!"
Grandmere
sniffed.

"Not all of
France," Maurice said pointedly.

John's brow furrowed. The
Cyndreacs
were notorious throughout
France. There were seven brothers, all of them counts and all of them unwed. Each and every one of the young men had reputations for chasing muslin. Their wild reputations had garnered them the sobriquet of the Seven Deadly
Cyns
. He had met them himself briefly on several occasions at soirees he had attended.

"All of them?" the countess asked sadly.

"Not all—I believe one escaped, but of this, I am not sure."

"Which one?"
Chloe had known the
Cyndreacs
her whole life—this news was sorely distressing to her.

"Who could tell?"
Zu-Zu
waved her hand in the air. "They all look alike with that black hair and those
Cyndreac
eyes." The brothers were stunningly handsome; each had inherited the famous golden
Cyndreac
eyes.

"Do you know these men well, Countess?" Percy asked
Grandmere
while dabbing at his eyes with his hanky. Percy did not know the
Cyndreacs
, but, presumably, he did not want to feel left out of the emotion of the moment.

"Yes, quite well," she replied softly. "Their chateau was adjoining my own in
France. This is very disheartening. Were they alive when you left,
Zu-Zu
?"

"
Oui
, but not for long.
I heard a guard say they were scheduled for execution." She shook her head. "Half the women of
France will be prostrate with grief,
myself
included. Already they were lining up outside the prison, tossing roses through the gates, wailing their hearts out."

Grandmere's
shoulders sagged. "Their beauty of spirit and zest for life will be missed."

"
O
tempora
!
o
mores
!" Percy intoned solemnly.
"Oh the times!
oh
the customs!"

"At least one escaped," Chloe said quietly, wondering which one had been so lucky.

"
Dum
spiro
spero
,"
Deiter
spoke, surprising everyone, since he had been sleeping the whole time and had never spoken in Latin before.

Percy viewed him through his lorgnette.
"Very true, my good man.
Where there is life, there is hope."

Well said, but
Deiter
was snoring again.

John muttered under his breath as he made his way back to the house. Just as he had found the perfect time to make his excuses and drag his wife back to their rooms, Percy had cornered him with the request that he join him for a walk about the grounds so he might discuss with him a matter of "an intensely personal and urgent nature."

Put in such a way, the request was impossible for John to refuse. No matter how much he wanted to be alone with Chloe, he was obligated to accompany Percy.

They walked to the far pond. It was an extremely long, tedious journey for John, who ached to be with his new bride.

Percy prattled on about this and that until John was forced to ask, "So what is this urgent matter you wish to discuss with me?"

Sir Cecil-Basil removed his handkerchief from his pocket to dab at the perspiration dotting his brow. Clearing his throat, he focused on the water lapping across the surface of the pond, seemingly too embarrassed to look John in the eye.

It was a few moments before he could gather his composure to speak. When he finally did, he voiced in a near-croaking whisper, "What do you think of Spanish fly?"

John blinked, stunned at the question. "I beg your pardon?"

Percy cleared his throat again. "I say, what do you think of Spanish fly?"

Of all the inquiries, John never expected this! "Well, I…" What was he supposed to say? "Some prefer absinthe, I hear."

"Absinthe?
What has absinthe to do with it?" Percy made a face. "Hideous-looking stuff—made with wormwood, I hear. Now what about the Spanish fly, John?"

"Are you thinking of trying it?"

"You won't say anything?"

"Of course not, but—"

Percy exhaled a sigh of relief. "I knew I could trust you, John. So what do you think?"

"It's your choice, of course, but I prefer the natural approach."

"Yes, but it is so boring of late." He waved the handkerchief; a whiff of cologne irritated John's nose, causing it to twitch.

"It doesn't have to be; there are many things one can do to liven up the—"

"I've tried them all; I need something fresh, something stimulating."

"It's a risk, Percy; there's no telling what its permanent effects might be."

Percy sighed. "I know. In addition, my reputation in such matters is sterling; I hate to jeopardize it."

Sterling reputation
?
With women?
John gave the fop an incredulous look. Percy was definitely a legend in his own mind. "There's no accounting for ladies' tastes." His dry response was lost somewhere among the multitudinous layers of lace the man wore.

"The thing is, Sexton, do you think it too bold?"

"What does the lady in question say?"

"Lady in question?"
Percy seemed perplexed. "What lady in question?"

"The one you plan to use this with." John stopped, viewing Percy in shock. "It is a lady, isn't it?"

"I should say not!"

John's eyes widened. He stepped back.
Two steps.

"I plan to experiment with it on myself. Why would I ask a lady to try it?"

John didn't know what to say to that. Percy was odder than he thought.

"I think it goes quite naturally with my complexion. Furthermore, I believe it will be the coming rage. Always like to be on the forefront, you know."