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He leaned back and looked at her expectantly.
Kitty gathered up her reticule and stood up. “Thank you for a pleasant evening, my lord. I shall, of course, consider your kind and…generous…offer, but now I must return for some much-needed rest.”
She didn’t wait for his response. How could she when she was quai
ling like a jelly inside? Only when she turned the key in her front door, which she shut firmly behind her as her heart rate subsided, did she realize she’d gained absolutely nothing of any value whatsoever from him. This should have been a time when she was at her most sophisticated; quizzing him like a consummate professional.
Instead, she’d squandered her opportunity and let everyone down.
Araminta checked her appearance once last time in the mirror and prepared to meet Teddy. At last, she was about to experience the bliss she so deserved, but which Debenham had denied her through forcing her to marry him. Oh, Teddy had been reluctant when she’d suggested a secret meeting at the ball a few nights previously. Naturally, he was afraid of Debenham. Everyone was. But didn’t that spice up the assignation? The secrecy and wickedness of it were half the appeal. Teddy, of course, represented the ideal—safety, unconditional admiration, a title, and grand estate. She had him twisted around her little finger, and although she’d not had confirmation that he’d, in fact, meet her at Madame Mirabeau’s salon, she had no doubt he’d be there.
Unlike Debenham. He was so unpredictable. And selfish. When he’d caught her purging her stomach, he’d correctly deduced the reason, but instead of joyful anticipation of the happy event in what she guessed would be a little under eight months, his lip had curled as he’d focused on her mid-region. “I daresay I’d better make the most of my conjugal rights in the next few weeks,” he’d said. “You’re a bore when you’re breeding, Araminta; never wanting me to touch you, as I recall. Well, you can stay in the country this time.”
“The Grange?” It’s where she’d given birth—or close to—only several months before, and she’d never been more relieved to go home.
“Not this time. I think it’s time to unleash your amiable disposition on my family. I have an irascible uncle and uncommonly exacting grandmother in residence at Marsh Manor who deserve to know you better.”
Araminta’s distress at the idea had only fed his ugly mood. Well, if Araminta had anything to do with it, it wouldn’t be long before Debenham had no influence in her life. Somehow she was going to find a way to be with Teddy.
When she told Teddy this, ensconced in a private antechamber at Madame Mirabeau’s, he was a little incredulous.
“My dear girl, short of Debenham…er…dying, I don’t see how that’s possible.” He had her sitting upon his lap now. That is, she’d sat herself upon his lap after she’d taken him by the hand and forcefully led him to this room. Madame Mirabeau had private rooms for just this function she’d learned, and she was not the only dissatisfied matron who utilized the weekly Thursday salons for pursuits other than a lively discussion on politics. Araminta didn’t know the first thing about politics, and she didn’t care to learn, either.
“But that’s exactly it, Teddy darling. Debenham has made so many enemies I believe it’s quite possible he might…well, come to a sticky end.”
“Good God, are you talking about murder?”
Araminta shrugged, not caring that Teddy was clearly quite horrified. But then she thought she’d better appear deeply troubled, at least, so she rustled up a tear to augment a suitably terrified expression and whispered, “Indeed, Teddy, there are people who have expressly threatened Debenham. They think he’s done terrible things—”
“Well, my brother is one of those people, and he’s trying to find evidence of wrongdoing, which makes this…” he indicated their close proximity “…deuced awkward.”
Araminta cupped his face and softly touched her lips to his. She wriggled a little in his lap and was delighted that, despite his words and apparent reluctance, he was highly aroused.
“Awkward for me if Debenham is convicted, for then I’d be humiliated and perhaps left with no support. But Teddy, I’m terrified that Debenham is a target for wrongdoers like…like Lord Smythe and that nasty little shoemaker and grubby pamphleteer, Buzby. They come to the house and pretend to be allies, but the truth is, I think they have ill intentions toward him. I tell him he shouldn’t trust them, but I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them does something…well, terrible.”
“Violence?”
“That wouldn’t surprise me at all. But what can I do?” She started to tremble which helped bring on a bout of tears, and Teddy always responded well to tears. That’s why she loved him so much. He was so very susceptible and so chivalrous for he drew her to him and kissed away the moisture from her cheeks, which immediately led to a mutual escalation of desire—exactly what Araminta had intended, for if ever she needed an ally, she needed one now, and Teddy answered her every need.
So, soon his hands were roaming over her body—the body that would soon become bloated and disgusting and to which she must introduce him now in all its perfection—though she must do it in the shadows to hide the lingering evidence of recent childbirth.
And when he showed signs of demurring at the last moment, she guided his hands so he could feel the heat between her legs that signaled her desire, and then he was undone. And Araminta helped to make him undone, greedily unbuttoning his trousers, grasping his member which was already rigid, so that he needed little encouragement after that to throw caution to the wind.
Soon they were both naked and writhing with passion in one another’s arms, and Araminta could feel the tension and fear ebbing away. What better ally could she have than earnest Lord Ludbridge, brother of the man who posed the greatest threat to Debenham and thus to herself?
Kitty tried not to look as uncomfortable as she felt, brushing out her hair in her dressing room as Lord Debenham sat on a chair nearby, waxing lyrical on the benefits of allying herself to him. She’d been adamant that she wanted none of his generosity; no, she could manage just fine without his help.
And then he said, “You are a stubborn little thing, and it’s clear you are nursing a terrible anger toward the man who’s wounded you. You’d like to see him brought down, wouldn’t you?”
Kitty was about to refute this when he added, “If you want revenge, surely you can see how much I am in a position to help you?” His tone became more honeyed, and he put out his hand to stroke her hair.
“Revenge?” She had to repeat the word for it was such a foreign concept that she would ever desire revenge. Not upon darling Silverton. She was about to use this as an argument to temper Lord Debenham’s overtures, which were becoming increasingly unpalatable, when again he interrupted, saying in a low voice, “A little manufactured evidence might well do the trick.” He raised an eyebrow. “If your maid had done her job properly, Silverton would be feeling the heat by now—well and truly. But you were in love with him then, weren’t you? I didn’t realize it—nor how important that little aspect would be in the whole scheme of things, but now I can see how much value we can provide each other—mutually. I can supply a means whereby you see Silverton is toppled from his comfortable perch, while you can safely enjoy the spectacle from the comfort of what I’m prepared to provide you.”
After what seemed like an eternity he asked, “Would you like that? To see Silverton brought low and to still enjoy a man’s generosity? Or are you too much the romantic, Miss Bijou, and think I should go on bended knee and beg for your favors. I do have my limits.”
She held her brush mid-air and gave him a contemplative look. “I’d never thought of such a thing, my lord. Revenge?”
“Never thought of having your revenge? Why, I thought that’s what every spurned woman dreamed of.”
