Taste of Desire
Page 28
Tristan glanced at his wife. She did look rather poorly. He stood and went to stand before his wife. “Are you well, my dear? Lady Smythe-Burke is correct. You do look a little off color.”
“I shall be fine.” She opened her eyes wide. “I must admit to being fatigued, but I would not have missed this for anything. And, you must admit, I’ve been a help.”
“Yes, you certainly have – although I am still not quite sure how you knew –“
“I may not be – have been in your business for long, but I have come to know Lady Harburton rather well. I did not know your questions, but I did know her answers.” Marguerite laid her hand upon his arm.
Hearing her name again Lady Harburton sputtered to life. She had been silent, evidently dumbfounded by Lady Smythe-Burke’s comments. “I don’t know how you can say such a thing. I’ve never betrayed England in my life. I even helped knit for the soldiers as well as my endless correspondence. I raised so many spirits. How can you say such things to me?” She downed her tea in one gulp. “I will be going now. I have nothing more to say to any of you. Disgraceful, simply disgraceful the way a lady can be treated in this day and age. I would never have believed it of you, Lady Smythe-Burke. Wimberley I must confess I am not surprised by. Breeding will show, after the way his mother took on with that gardener what else could be expected.”
Lady Smythe-Burke put down her cup with a thump. “And what do you know about that, Minerva? I always wondered if it was you who started those rumors.”
Lady Harburton paled. “I did no such thing. I merely speculated on why such a wonderful gardener wouldn’t come work for me no matter what I offered. There was only one reason he would have stayed with Felicity. She certainly didn’t care for her flowers like I did.”
“I think you have said enough and that it is time for you to leave, Minerva,” Lady Smythe-Burke’s voice was filled with iron.
“Well, I never.” Lady Harburton turned with a flounce. “I refuse to stay to be insulted. I’ll talk to my husband about this.” She marched to the door and slammed out.
Tristan would have stopped her, but Lady Smythe-Burke held up a hand. “What has she really done wrong – no, I do know exactly what she had done – but could you prove it and what good will it do? She has not done anything truly illegal. Immoral and stupid – yes – but what would hold up in court? Besides, I would expect that she was actually rather harmless. If she was waiting for information to arrive by post I must imagine that most of it was far out of date –“
Tristan could only nod.
“—and further we did win the war. If there were evidence that her – her sharing of information led to great loss of life my opinion would differ. Did she? No, then I would suggest you let me and my friends take care of the matter. I would imagine that our displeasure would bring her far greater discomfort than even a few months in the Old Bailey. I can promise that she will be well punished.”
“You are not considering the matter of the Dutch.” Tristan had always know that Lady Smythe-Burke was in truth a steam-locomotive, but never had he felt it used against himself – well there had been the matter of his wedding, but that had been his idea to start with.
“No, I do not forget the Dutch. If I had known you were interested I would have spoken to you before now. I have watched the situation with interest. Huismans has been very careful in whom he approached. He chose only the less bright and most vain of woman. He was quite successful with them, most have worked hard on their husband’s opinions. Silly girls, as if flowers would win them social approval.” Her smile made it clear whose approval they should have been trying to attain.
“If you say they’ve been successful –“
Lady Smythe-Burke cut him off again, “Huismans failed to consider one important factor – stupid women are often married to stupid men who change their votes with the wind anyway, or else husbands who know better than to listen to them. Or, in the case of Minerva, a husband who will probably not bother to vote anyway. Even with her pressure Harburton is unlikely to spend more than a day or two in London during any given season. For all his plotting, Huismans had not a chance of success.” Lady Smythe-Burke picked up her cup and sipped. “You see I like my cup of tea and I do know how important it is to control who supplies it.” She sipped again.
The women had won. No matter how he looked at it the real success of the day had come from Marguerite and Lady Smythe-Burke. It was a good thing that he refused to consider himself a spy or he might have felt chagrined, instead he felt only pride. He looked at his wife, who smiled back at him. He could not wait until later to win his private victories with her. He body grew tight at the thought. There was much investigation to be done into the possible changes that were occurring to her body. It was his duty to pursue such important matters.
“You’re grinning like a school boy. It’s very clear in what direction your thoughts lie,” Lady Smythe-Burke cackled.
God, he hoped she couldn’t read him so easily. Some things certainly should be private. He stroked Marguerite’s hair.
“In any case, we need to get to the purpose for my call. I saw Felicity in the park and I wanted to congratulate you on finally showing some sense in the matter. I was worried that you’d never realize how remarkably foolish your conclusions have been, although after listening to Minerva I think you’d start to gain some understanding. Felicity would no more have cuckolded your father than I would decide to ride a steeplechase.”
Tristan was not sure that was reassuring, although he trusted she meant it as such. “I do not see that we need to speak of it.” He glanced at Marguerite. She glared back at him. Gads, was this one of those time she expected him to listen. “Although, I am sure that if you do have something to say I would benefit from hearing it.”
“That you would.” Lady Smythe-Burke took another mouthful of tea and then rose. “I should have interfered years ago, but Felicity would not hear of it. She wanted you to come to her on your own. I believe she was hurt that you would listen to gossip, but not to her.” She glanced at Marguerite. “Well, even if it was not quite on your own it will have to do. You are a man after all. In any case, I don’t know how you got the idea you are not your father’s son – didn’t think I knew that part did you? Haven’t your realized yet it’s the women who know everything? A spy force of women – now that would be an idea. I wonder there are no female investigators. Although even if there were I am sure they’d be too sensible to let any one know.”
“I do not see what business of yours it is what my private beliefs about my father and my paternity are.”
“Of course you don’t, but of course they are. Men. You had to assume it was a woman who strayed. Did you never consider –“
It was his turn to cut Lady Smythe-Burke off. “Even if we were talking about my father, I fail to see how his affairs would affect my paternity. Unless there is something biological you women have kept hidden all these year.” He was beginning to sound the petulant child again. He took a deep breath and fought though to calm.
“No, your father’s affairs would not have mattered, but perhaps your grandfather’s might have. Did you ever come across a picture of him? I know there were not many because he was never expected to succeed to the title and then he died so soon after taking it, but surely you must have seen one.”
“No, I do not believe I have. Any that existed were lost when the East wing burned at Glynwolde. I do not see the point, however. You are spinning webs seeking to lose me in your words.”
“If I were seeking to spin webs you would already be lost. Have you never noticed how easily I can distract the course of a conversation, or a life?” Lady Smythe-Burke glanced at Marguerite with knowing eyes. “But, as it happens, your grandfather’s appearance is of prime importance. You are his spitting image.”
“But, that’s not possible, my father –“
“Didn’t look like his father at all. Your grandmother was quite dark.”
“But, the garden
er –“
“His name is Francis by the way. He is both a dear and talented man. He is your uncle or rather your half-uncle. Your grandfather was the one not known for his faithfulness. He never recognized poor Francis, but your father did his best once he succeeded. They grew close. I believe that Frances mourned as much as any upon your father’s death. If you saw anything between Felicity and Frances it was no doubt nothing more than an exchange of condolence.”
Tristan walked away from Marguerite and sank into a chair. This was all unbelievable. How could he have been so wrong? He was never wrong. Well, evidently he was wrong quite a lot. He looked over at Marguerite. Could a look say “I told you so”?
“So Will is?” Marguerite asked, turning to face him.
“Tristan’s cousin. I wondered if you’d noticed the resemblance.” Lady Smythe-Burke stood.
Tristan could say nothing. He felt sick to his stomach. He’d had believed in an error for so long. Everything Marguerite had said about him was correct.
Lady Smythe-Burke glanced from one to the other. “I am afraid I must be going. When I saw your mother in the park she was with Violet Carrington. I promised to stop by and discuss some matters with her as soon as my work here was done.” She turned to the door. “I am sure the two of you can work the rest of it out by yourselves. Felicity did indicate congratulations were in order, so you must be doing something right.”
She breezed out leaving only a whisper of words behind her. “Now Violet, there is a girl who needs some help. Thinks she’s happy, but how can she be. Wonder what I can help push along for her.”
Chapter Twenty
Marguerite turned over in the bed, the solid weight of her husband beside her. He had insisted on carrying her up to bed when Lady Smythe-Burke left. She had tried to discuss all the matters before them, but he had insisted she needed a nap. She had been about to discuss his skills at listening again when he had indicated she was not to nap alone.
Ahh, well, she stretched. They might need to work together on his listening, but his other skills might help tip the balance on in his favor.
He rolled over and opened one eye. Catching her watching him he opened the other. “Are we ready to move on or do I need to listen some more?” He ran a hand up her thigh.
She shivered and tried to pull back. He wrapped the other hand about her waist pulling her towards him. “I listen better when you’re close.” He started to lay kisses along her neck.
“In that case I do have one question.” Marguerite worked her own hand between them, causing him to moan. “I have been reviewing events carefully trying to address whether you have lied to me.”
Tristan tensed, but kept kissing her. “And?” he whispered against her neck.
“On that now infamous first night you also mentioned a mistress who threatened to cause a scandal if you did not marry her. At this point I assume it is not Violet we speak of. What became of this mistress?”
Had her husband’s ears turned red? He mumbled something and slipped his lips down to her breast. His other hand slid further up her thigh. She gritted her teeth trying not to respond. She could feel quivers of excitement flying across her belly. “I want an answer I can hear.”
Tristan sucked hard on her nipple, once, but when she refused to give in. He lifted his head. “I may have exaggerated that one. She did exist, but I am afraid I’d left her weeks before. I did not take well to blackmail.”
“So you did lie?” Marguerite squirmed under his continued onslaught. It was growing hard to breathe, much less speak.
“Can’t we just call it an exaggeration? I assure you I never meant to lie.” He attacked the other breast.
“Exaggeration? I might be able to go with that. You do have other redeeming characteristics,” she panted. “Of course, I would expect some kind of recompense for my patience.” She drew her hand up stroking him fully. His whole body jerked.
“Something like this?” His fingers delved deep into her, centering on that all-important feminine bundle of nerves.
“I – I – I was thinking of something with words.”
He stopped all movement and raised his head to stare deep into her eyes. “Something, like ‘I love you, Marguerite. I love you with all my heart and soul.”
She lifted her hips beneath him, until they lay almost joined. “Yes, I think that will do very well.”
He moved again, and again, and they spoke no more words.
*******
Coming in March 2013 – Georgianna, The Last Real Duchess
(A Real Duchesses of London Novella)
Also by Lavinia Kent
The Desire Series
Hint of Desire
Price of Desire
Taste of Desire
A Talent for Sin
Bound by Temptation
Taken by Desire
What a Duke Wants
The Real Duchesses of London
Kathryn, the Kitten
Linnette, the Lioness
Elizabeth, the Enchantress
Annabelle, the American
Georgianna, the Last Real Duchess
(Coming March 2013)
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty