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Hettie’s eyebrows rose very high. “You are not thinking of visiting that man again, lieben?”
“I think I must.”
“But why? You said you would never see him again!”
“Because he is driving me to distraction,” she said angrily. “It’s as if he’s awoken something inside me, and I can’t banish it. I must see him. Just once more. This time it really will be the last, I promise you. Hettie, I am not asking for your permission. I will see him with or without your help.” But Portia knew she wanted Hettie’s support, if not her understanding.
For a long moment Hettie was silent and very serious, and then she nodded. “You are risking a great deal, but if it is your wish, then I will help you.”
Portia grasped her hand. “Thank you. There is no one else I can trust.”
“I know this, lieben. You are very much alone. Perhaps this is why you have fastened your thoughts on such a man as this; a man who sees you as nothing more than another conquest in a long line of conquests.”
But Portia had stopped listening. She was already busy planning ahead. She would write a discreet note to Aphrodite, asking her to arrange a second meeting. Yes, that was what she would do…
Suddenly it occurred to her that Marcus might be otherwise engaged. The resulting disappointment made her feel physically ill, before she reasoned it away. No, in her heart she knew that couldn’t happen. He would want to see her. He would come.
Marcus Worthorne was as fascinated by her as she was by him.
Marcus stared morosely into his brandy while the voices about him rose and fell. White’s was full of his peers, men he knew well, but he hadn’t returned any of their greetings, and after one glance at his face they left him alone. He’d been in a strange mood all week. Several times he’d set off to spend a night on the town, only to return home before midnight, having found the women boring and the conversation tedious.
“Good Lord, can you have turned over a new leaf?” his brother had drawled, eyeing him with cynical disbelief.
“I thought you wanted me home before dawn,” Marcus retorted.
“Are all the pretty ladies staying in tonight?”
Marcus had grunted, but the truth was, there were plenty of pretty ladies interested in him, just not the one he wanted.
Now, he rubbed his brow and tried not to groan aloud. No woman had ever affected him like this before, and he was at a loss as to why it happened. He was obsessed by a woman whose face and name were a complete mystery to him.
He could almost hate her, because she had quite ruined his pleasure in the capital. Slyly, subtly, the lady in scarlet had crept into his mind, into his senses, and before he knew it, she was everywhere.
“Bloody annoying, that’s what it is,” he muttered to himself, swirling the brandy in his heavy crystal glass.
There wasn’t anything he could do about it, either. He’d tried. Tonight, he’d been back to Aphrodite’s Club, attempting to inveigle the name from Francesca’s mother, but she’d only smiled her sphinxlike smile at him and said, “I cannot disclose that to you, Marcus. You knew the conditions before you agreed to the assignation. It was one night and one night only.”
“But can’t you bend the rules a little for family?” He’d given her his most engaging look.
Aphrodite shook her head at him. “Naughty boy. No, I cannot tell. Not even for you, Marcus.”
He’d left, frustrated, and ended up here at White’s.
The brandy was beginning to befuddle him, and he knew he should go home. “Home,” where his brother and sister-in-law were so in love they made him feel lonelier than ever.
Surprised, he shook his head to try and clear it. Lonely? When had he ever been lonely? Life was an adventure, and he was a man who followed where it led him. He had friends, lovers, and the odd enemy or two. Marcus Worthorne was never lonely…
“Aphrodite said I’d find you here.”
The voice was familiar. Blearily, Marcus looked up. Boxer’s nose, hard gray eyes. He knew the face but couldn’t place it.
“Jemmie Dobson,” the man prompted him. “She sent me to find you, sir. To tell you that you are one lucky sod.”
“Always have been,” he slurred.
“Seems so. There was a note sent around to the club just an hour ago. Your lady love wants to see you again.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then Marcus grinned. “When?” he demanded, trying to stand up and failing.
