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Marietta sank down on the bed when she had gone, still shaken by this example of the new Lil.
The note had crumpled in her hand, and she looked down and began to read. Suddenly all other thoughts went out of her head.
There will be a coach waiting for you by the gardens with my insignia on it. The driver will bring you to me at eleven o’clock as arranged. M.
Her first reaction had been to smile with relief—she had been pondering how she would slip away to the Lustful Lady without getting caught, or needing to request a vehicle to take her.
But thinking of it now, at the dining table among her chattering family, her body tingled.
She would be seeing Max again in only a few hours. What would he say to her, what would he do to her?
This time she moaned softly.
“Marietta, are you quite well?” Her mother was staring at her, and Marietta realized with a start that she wasn’t the only one.
She forced a laugh. “I’m sorry. I was miles away.”
For the rest of the meal she managed to keep her thoughts in the room and not in wistful dreams of being with Max at the Lustful Lady later this evening.
Mr. Jardine, who had been looking ten years younger since Lady Greentree arrived, hurried to help her into the drawing room after dinner. His manner was particularly solicitous as he busied himself making her comfortable in the best chair, and then brought the stool closer, so that she could prop up her injured foot.
Amy Greentree gave a little sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mr. Jardine, you are the best of men.”
He smiled down at her, but there was a look on his face…Marietta felt her heart ache for him. At that moment she happened to turn, and noticed that Uncle William was standing in the doorway watching them, too. And unlike Marietta his heart wasn’t aching, no indeed, but from the tight and painful expression on his face his belly was.
Marietta gritted her teeth, feeling sure they were about to be treated to another of Uncle William’s dreadful tirades, but strangely he said nothing. Though when he finally left, his expression was still hard and unsmiling, and there was a look in his eyes when they rested upon Mr. Jardine that boded ill.
Marietta was tempted to warn her mother, but how could she broach the matter without giving away Mr. Jardine’s secret love for her? He would never forgive her if she put Amy on her guard with him. Besides, Amy was exhausted from her long journey and soon afterwards retired to bed, so for the moment the opportunity was lost. Francesca, too, had already gone up to bed, and Vivianna had retired to her own rooms.
A glance at the clock as Marietta hurried upstairs to her room showed that it was already a quarter to the hour, and she had barely any time to prepare. She decided to wear the midnight blue velvet and net dress she had worn to dinner, but she quickly brushed her hair and tied it loosely at her back, and tossed her emerald green cloak about her.
Ready at last, Marietta crept down the backstairs and slipped outside.
At first she couldn’t see the coach, and then she did—a dark bulky shape against the pale foliage of the garden. Marietta hurried over, wincing as the cobbles bruised the bottoms of her feet in their thin-soled slippers. The still night air was fresh and she filled her lungs and felt alive—more alive than she had been for a very long time.
Had Max changed her, or was it simply that she was taking the first steps along her chosen path at last? But Marietta didn’t want to mull over reasons for her happiness; she just wanted to enjoy the moment.
She thought it was Daniel huddled up in the driver’s seat, but this man did not turn and greet her and she hesitated, her hand upon the door.
“Lustful Lady?” a gruff voice asked.
“Yes.” It was all right then. This was Max’s coach—she noted the insignia on the side—only he had not sent Daniel to drive it. Under the circumstances she could understand that.
With a smile, Marietta climbed up inside.
They drove for a little while. Despite being late the streets of London were still busy with other vehicles and people on foot. It was a place that never seemed to sleep, and she huddled into her corner as the gas lamps shone out, keeping the hood of her cloak about her face in case anyone should peer inside and see her.
This was all part of the game, she supposed. A secret rendezvous. A lover with whom she must never be seen in daylight, or recognized with at night. The tingle in her blood was growing stronger, and she peered anxiously from the window, hoping they were nearly there.
Just as the coach drew up.
The driveway to the Lustful Lady was illuminated by flaring torches, while the building itself was an old manor house, set among the trees. A servant in yellow livery hurried to open the door for Marietta, and to direct the coach around to the back of the house. The villa seemed strangely quiet as the servant led Marietta to the front door and gestured that she should enter. His eyes weren’t curious—perhaps he saw too many ladies huddled in their cloaks come to meet lonely gentlemen.
“Where do I go?” she asked him anxiously. There was a single lamp inside the door and it hardly penetrated the darkness. Suddenly this did not seem like such an adventure.
“Straight on, ma’am,” he said, as if he’d said it a hundred times before. “Stop when you choose to. If the door’s open you can join in. If it ain’t then don’t disturb.”
Stop when you choose to? Join in or don’t disturb? She didn’t understand him, but Marietta had already taken a step forward and the door closed abruptly behind her. For a moment she panicked and was strongly tempted to bang upon it and ask to be released; she wanted nothing more than to go home again to her sister’s house and her family, and forget all this nonsense.
