“We will cause talk anyway, and it will be a great deal more convenient to have you nearby. Please, let Norton take you to your rooms, and tomorrow, move in here with us.”
He bowed. “Your wish is my command, as always, O ruler of my heart.” There was a distinct edge to the last part, and she wondered if he understood her purpose.
Not a stupid man. Why had she assumed he would be?
Because, she thought, as the coach carried him away, so many of the cavalry officers she’d met had been. Dashing, courageous,but not of sparkling intellect. She rather gathered that those who were clever found themselves seconded to other duties.
“Well done,” said Harriette as they entered the hall. “Everything set.”
“I think him moving here is a bit extreme.”
“Truly?”
Maria shrugged. “There’s a lot of work to be done. But he has friends. That’s a hopeful sign.” She explained what the duchess had said.
“Tattoos?” said Harriette with a grimace. “What were their mothers thinking? But it will certainly be easier for Lord Vandeimen to meet his friends here.”
Maria looked around at pale walls, marble pillars, and discreetly tasteful classical statues—or copies of them, to be precise. Maurice had made every effort to impress, and this house had been his principal point of impression. She had been another. Sadly, all his impressions had been imitation. Even the pillars were faux marble.
He’d taught her many lessons, including that most people had two or even more faces. She’d already seen a number of faces to Lord Vandeimen, but she suspected there were more.
The six weeks loomed in front of her and she hurried to the peaceful sanctuary of her bedroom, but even there uncomfortable memories stirred. She’d enjoyed Maurice’s demanding visits to her bed. Once she’d realized the truth, however—that she was merely part of his strategy for entering and using English society—her hunger had shamed her.
As her maid stripped off her finery, she remembered the many lonely nights when she’d longed for him to come to her. She’d often thought of going to him, but never found the courage. How could she? His care for her sprang at best from mild affection, and at worst from a need to keep her pacified so she wouldn’t crack his illusion of perfect success.
Begging for more had been unthinkable.
Though he’d been discreet, she’d known about his mistresses. They had all been lively, colorful women. Not like her.
She knew about his bastards, too, because he’d told her about each one, and the provision he was making. The allowances had been specified in his will. Another inherited burden.
And then there was Natalie.
Natalie’s mother had been Maurice’s aristocratic Belgian cousin, Clarette, but she was also Maurice’s child. When her official parents had died, she had come to live with him. The truth was never spoken, but Tante Louise and Oncle Charles knew that Maurice and Clarette had been in love since their teens.
Natalie was a delightful girl, but Maria had resented having a reproach at her infertility under her roof. Now she’d invited a demon there.
She smiled wryly as she dried her hands and applied cream. No danger in that. If she hadn’t been able to go to her husband demanding sex, she certainly could not invade her hired escort’s rooms with that in mind.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Maria sat at the desk in her boudoir trying to pretend that she was working on her accounts, but with every sense alert for Vandeimen’s arrival. She’d sent the coach and had no reason to believe that he wouldn’t come as arranged. Still, she felt she would not have a moment’s peace until he was here.
Safe.
Oh, what nonsense, but that’s how she felt.
A laugh escaped, and she rested her head on her hand. She wanted to wrap the man in flannel cloth and protect him, like a mother with a delicate child. Was anything more ridiculous?
And yet, it wasn’t ridiculous to see him as delicate, if by that she meant fragile. It was her task to make him robust again—without giving in to other, baser, desires.
A carriage? She shot to her feet and peered out of the window. It was. Her carriage. At last!
Heart suddenly racing, she made herself stand still and take a deep breath.
You make him strong again, Maria, and then you let him go. You mustn’t permit anything to happen that might entangle him with you.
Her throat actually ached, which was an alarming warning.
