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“Is…is His Lordship here?” Heloise inquired, trying not to stare about.
“He arrives soon, I believe, but he has arranged for your wardrobe. Shall I assist you now into your nightdress?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Heloise responded, stepping away before the woman could touch her.
Annabelle look puzzled.
“I shall ring if I find I need your assistance, shall I?”
Annabelle frowned, perhaps wondering if Heloise would summon her from her bed at an inconvenient time.
“You are welcome to retire for the evening,” Heloise assured her. She had no intention of staying for long. Once she was done with the earl, she would request a post chaise to take her home. Taking a seat on the bed, she waited for Sebastian Cadwell.
* * * * *
Sebastian handed his hat and gloves to one of Madame Follet’s footmen and considered heading up to the room where Josephine Merrill would be waiting. He paused, lacking desire. Indeed, he had had little inclination to invite her here, but the minx had worn down his resistance. Her determination had pleased his vanity. It had been years since he had allowed himself to be embroiled in a relationship with one as young as Miss Josephine, but her youthfulness belied her familiarity with men. He knew she had lifted her skirts beneath at least two friends of his.
Not looking in upon her would be impolite. Perhaps she would still be asleep. Would he attempt to wake her with a kiss or would he be relieved and head to his own room for a moment of solitude?
What the bloody hell is the matter with me? He had never hesitated before, had never known his eros to waver. He enjoyed all manner of women. Why not the lovely and charming Josephine Merrill? His friends, if they knew his thoughts, would question his manhood or suggest that old age was settling in upon him though he had turned but two and thirty earlier this year.
“Cadwell, mon cheri!” Marguerite Follet greeted him.
The lady of the house, in stylish déshabillé and a golden turban, looked radiant, as much a beauty at forty as she had been at twenty.
Sebastian kissed her extended hand.
“My maid tells me your lady friend arrived,” she notified him. “She is not what I would have ascribed to your tastes. She seems almost virginal. I thought you never did virgins.”
“I don’t,” he responded resolutely.
“Ah, then there is more than meets the eye with your mademoiselle. I think, at the least, you need have no worry from Lord Devon.”
Sebastian thought her comment strange, for Lord Devon had been known to try his luck with all the maidens at Lady Follet’s.
“I warn you he arrived yesterday and has with him two lady-birds. Twin sisters,” Lady Follet continued. “And Anne Wesley is here as well. I do wish Lord Harsdale would stop inviting her. I dread unhappy people, and she is as acrimonious as they come. You would not believe what she said to me—that you were a lover of middling abilities.”
He started. That had never been said of him before.
“Of course she speaks from a bitter heart. Everyone knows how long she pined for you.”
Had Anne counterfeited the ecstatic cries—cries so loud he had thought he might never hear properly again—when she had been with him? Sebastian wondered. It was hard to believe. He had never questioned his intuition when it came to the art of lovemaking. Nonetheless, he felt a stir in his groin.
“Goodness knows there are few to equal you where that is concerned,” Lady Follet added with a telling flush in her cheeks. “When you are done with your mademoiselle and have a wish to renew your acquaintance with me…”
Sebastian bowed, recalling with fondness the moments of passion they had shared on occasion. “You honor me, my lady.”
A sigh escaped her lips. “I would that it be soon, Cadwell. I fear one day you will have no use for me and my château.”
“That could never be.”
Her golden-brown eyes surveyed him with a depth he had never felt before. “I wonder, Cadwell, that you might not someday take a mistress or more permanent lover? Even a wife?”
“My record speaks for itself. Any woman who accepts
my invitation understands that the three nights here represent the end, not the beginning, of an affair.”
“And have you never requested to see a woman again when you have done with her here?”
