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Aphrodite managed to dredge up a breathless laugh. She lifted her chin and her emerald and diamond earrings glittered. “I do not regard him,” she said haughtily. “He does not frighten me.”
But he did, thought Marietta. Aphrodite was playing at being Joan of Arc, but Uncle William in his part as one of the English lords did frighten her very much indeed. How could he be such a bully!
Aphrodite remained to drink tea and hold her grandchild. Her beautiful, haggard face softened with love when she looked down at him, and Marietta felt a new admiration grow within her for this woman who had lost her own three children and yet somehow survived. By the time Aphrodite left, she seemed more herself again; she gave an impatient shrug when William’s behavior was brought up. “Psht! Some men are all noise and bluster,” she waved a dismissive hand. “It is the only way they can get what they want. I do not regard him.”
“I know Mama Greentree has always told us that Uncle William has a temper, but until now I truly did not believe it,” Vivianna said, when she and Marietta were alone.
“He was so angry.”
“I suppose it was the slur on the family name, or what he perceives as a slur. And what did he mean about ‘friends’ who keep him informed?”
Marietta shook her head. “Almost…I don’t know. I was going to say that it was almost as if he had met Aphrodite before. His hatred was personal, didn’t you feel it? When he shouted at her, he leaned right over her, into her face, as if he knew her.”
“As far as I know they have never met before, and I cannot see Uncle William visiting her club, can you? He is such a prig, such a stickler for all things proper.”
“Perhaps that’s it, though. Perhaps he has a secret penchant for Aphrodite’s and thinks she will tell us all about it, so in his own way he’s warning her off.”
“You have a vivid imagination, Marietta.” Vivianna laughed, and then gave a huge yawn.
Marietta was immediately contrite. “You are tired! Go upstairs and rest. And leave the worrying about Uncle William to me. That is why I am here, isn’t it, to take all such trivial domestic concerns off your hands so that you can enjoy your son?”
Vivianna smiled wanly, and her face softened as she looked at her younger sister. “I wish you would look upon your stay here as a holiday, Marietta. You are in need of one, I think. I have always regretted that I was not there when you ran off with that creature Gerard. I could have stopped you.”
“I don’t think so. I was determined to ruin myself, and I did. And do you know, Vivianna, after he abandoned me I realized I did not love him at all. It was the idea of love that attracted me.”
Vivianna sighed. “But you’ve changed, sister. Before Gerard you were a carefree, generous and fearless girl, and now I see a shadow in your eyes. You are far more cautious, far less likely to open your heart to others. You guard your feelings.”
“I was hurt,” Marietta said a little stiffly. “I do not want to be hurt again. What is so strange in that?”
“Nothing strange. You are being sensible, of course you are. But I wish…I grieve for all you have lost. I think you are not happy, are you, Marietta?”
Marietta smiled, but it was not the spontaneous grin she once had. “I am very happy. Or I will be if you stop talking nonsense and go and rest, Vivianna.”
Obediently Vivianna wandered upstairs to Lil, leaving Marietta to deal with Cook and the menus, and anything else that needed attention.
One of those things concerned Max, Lord Roseby. Marietta planned to call on him again this afternoon. A sense of urgency had gripped her since Max had told her he wouldn’t be in London for much longer. If Max was leaving for Cornwall then they did not have a great deal of time to conduct their temporary affair, and she still had to complete the first task Aphrodite had set for her.
She must make the most of the moments she and Max had left, to learn all she could from him about desire. Not love, she reminded herself sternly. This was purely about passion and…and lust.
Marietta gave a little shiver at the image this conjured up, and the memory of his firm lips on hers, and his warm skin under her fingers. Who would have thought that such a brief liaison could have this effect on her? If she was truthful, then she would admit that ever since she had been compelled to rest her lips on his, she had been thinking about the taste of him, the feel of him, the strength of his arms about her.
If she was honest, then Marietta would have to admit that sh
e was very much looking forward to repeating the experience.
As often as possible.
As Marietta arrived at Bedford Square, a harassed-looking gentleman was leaving. “That was Master Max’s man of business,” Pomeroy informed her importantly, when she asked. “He sent for him first thing.”
Marietta wondered what business Max had that was so urgent it couldn’t wait until he was well again. Then the sweet, heavy scent of flowers distracted her, and she realized that once more Mrs. Pomeroy had outdone herself. There was an enormous china bowl of roses on a table in the entrance hall, and Marietta sniffed appreciatively.
“Gorgeous,” she gasped, bending over the bouquet to sniff again. “Where did these come from, Pomeroy?”
He beamed at her. “They’re from the rose garden at Valland House, miss. Mr. Harold and Miss Susannah kindly asked to have them sent up.”
“They’re both very fond of your master, aren’t they?”
“Oh yes, miss. Mr. Harold and Master Max are like brothers and always have been, and Miss Susannah is like his sister. At least, they were, before—” He broke off, glancing away uncomfortably.
