Eloisa James - Duchess by Night (29 page)

Strange was admitted to the Royal Society by right of his experiments on frogs legs, Peddle said. No one can dispute that.

Harriet raised an eyebrow at Jem. Indeed.

Changing al sorts of things to do with electricity, Peddle said, rather vaguely. Frogs legs and metals; you must have read about it.

It was five years ago, Jem said. Frogs are wel in the past. He had that secret smile in his eyes. He was proud, but he was pretending it didnt matter.

Harriet turned to Mr. Peddle and asked him about how grasshoppers make music.

Later that night Harriet enquired about frogs legs, but Jem wasnt interested in them any longer. They twitch, he said. It was al rather fascinating, but then I wrote up everything I knew. It pointed toward mathematics, so I fol owed my nose and I never ended up back with frogs.

Harriet shook her head. Arent you proud of being made a member of the Royal Society?

He shrugged. ProudIm proud of this. And he got out of bed, buck naked. It turned out that what he was proudest of was a bridge. Five arch ribs, Jem said. Over one hundred feet across the river.

Its beautiful! Harriet said, tracing the drawing with her finger.

I couldnt have done it without Darbys cast iron. See, each one is cast in two halves?

She nodded. She was beginning to understand how the combination of Jems wildly powerful mind and his inventiveness were changing the world. Literal y changing the world.

What are you most proud of? he asked her later.

There were no bridges to mention so she said, In the town where we live, the judge is a drunkard. So sometimes, if he was incapable, my husband would sit in the court.

Is that legal?

Its always been done that way.

Aristocrats, Jem said, amused. So the country squire would stride in and save the day, would he?

Should she tel him? She shouldshe should I am a duchess. How hard was that to say aloud? Very hard. The words made her afraid. She couldnt help thinking of Jemmas wordsthat no one makes love to a duchess without thinking of the rank. The title changed everything.

I can see Vil iers doing that, Jem said, idly tracing a pattern on her shoulder with one fingertip. What happened after your husband died? Did the next squire take over?

I did.

He sat up and his mouth fel open in a very satisfactory manner. But then he snapped it shut and said, Of course you did. Of course you did!

They ended up talking about Loveday Bil ing and women like her, women whose lives could be changed, perhaps, by a sympathetic voice and two pounds. Its amazing what a very smal amount of money can do, Harriet found herself saying. She told him things shed never told anyone, about her view of the world and its injustices.

But he liked stories of Sibble best, Berrows most creative criminal. He plagues the town, Harriet said heart-feltedly. No one is safe. Its al a game to him.

Jem laughed and laughed.

One night Jem rose from dinner and announced that the men would retire to take port together. The ladies left for the sitting room with looks of discontent. The men sat around the flickering candlelight for hours, arguing about slavery, tax relief, advances in taxidermy, whatever came to mind. There was no Game that night.

Harriet put her elbows on the table. She refused a cheroot, but drank more port than was good for her. Jem sat at the end of the table, his eyes laughing, not looking at her much.

But then he said something about the artwork at the ancient Roman site, Pompeii. Apparently every single drawing featured a phal us.

Even more interesting, it became clear that most of the men in the room had given those drawings plenty of study while touring Europe.

My favorite object from Pompeii is the birdbath, Jem said lazily. Cope, you saw the birdbath, didnt you? When you took the grand tour, I mean?

He was playing with fire. Of course, Harriet said firmly, dropping her voice a notch. It was inspiring.

Lord Pensickle hooted, and shot her an edgy look. Found it inspiring, did you? Thats rather revealing.

One must assume that you found your own inspiration elsewhere, Vil iers said. Harriet loved the fact that she had two champions: her supposed relative, Vil iers, and her host.

The brothel, Pensickle said promptly. Nice-looking frescoes. Nice-looking women. I see nothing particularly interesting about a birdbath that pees water. And no one has equipment of that size. He gave them a squinty look, and Vil iers smiled into his sleeve.

Jem left his seat at the head of the table and sat down next to Harriet. After al , he said, sotto voce , there are only men here.

Harriet was so happy she didnt worry about it. Jem poured her port, and laughed at her jokes. When al the men launched into a rousing version of The Westminster Whore , he elbowed her until she joined in the chorus. When Lord Oke staggered away from the table and pissed in the corner, Harriet squealed and Jem elbowed her silent.

I thought there was a chamber pot there, wailed Oke.

Jem rang for Povy and ushered everyone out of the room so cleaning could commence.

They lay in bed that night and Jem played with drops of forty-year-old burgundy, trailing them across her breasts and licking them clean.

You havent said anything about my offer of marriage, he said, once they had bathed and fal en back into bed.

What?

I asked you to marry me, he said, hair fal ing over his eyes so she couldnt see them. Remember?

Ithat was a joke. Wasnt it?

She held her breath, but he said: What was your husband like?

He liked porridge in the morning.

Thats not what I meant.

He didnt make love the way you do.

I know that. Tel me what I dont know.

He loved chess. More than anything, he loved chess.

Jem was silent, but she knew him now, knew that his mind flew directly to the implication that Benjamin didnt love her as much as the game. Did he like playing judge?

No. She hesitated. I actual y started sitting in the shire court before he died. He was so busy. That was a lie, but it was a wifely lie.

They spent the rest of the night talking about the bonfire on Guy Fawkes day last that burned down Peter Nicol s dairy, and how hard it was to apportion blame to a crowd of drunk men. She told him about the theft of six oranges and then they talked again about Loveday Bil ing and her five husbands.

Five! Jem said. Loveday was an energetic woman!

They kept leaving her, Harriet said. I think she just wanted one, but she couldnt keep one in the house.

I wouldnt be able to stop thinking about my other wives, Jem said. It would never work for me.

For Loveday, once a husband was in jail, or in Italy, he was gone.

Jems hair was over his eyes again. It wasnt like that for me, when Sal y died. She was there stil for so long. At the breakfast table, or down in the garden. I kept thinking I would turn a corner and shed be there.

It sounds heartbreaking. She brushed back his hair.

Wasnt it like that for you as wel ?

No.

So when your husband was gone, you never thought you saw him through a door, forgot he was gone, remembered something you had to tel him?

How could she tel him what it was like when someone committed suicide? It was the one fact that she lived with, day in, day out, for months, for a year. She never forgot the cause of death long enough to think she saw Benjamin in the garden. The pain was in her bones, in her feet.

He kil ed himself.

She made herself say it, the deepest most self-hating thing she could do, because she couldnt keep it quiet any longer. You might want to reconsider your proposal. Quite a few people think that Benjamin was so deeply unhappy becausebecause of me.

He gathered her roughly into his arms and held her against his chest and said one word. It was an ancient, Anglo Saxon word, the kind of violent swear word that never came from his mouth.

The wal shed built up to keep him out cracked a little. And perhaps there was even a smal crack in the wal under that one, the wal shed put between the world and herself after Benjamin shot himself.

Sweetheart, Jem said huskily. He was kissing her hair, and squeezing her so tightly that her chest hurt.

She stifled a sob because she didnt want to cry, not now. She wanted to hear what he was saying.

He wasnt making a good deal of sense. He kept saying how sweet she was, and then what a total idiot her husband had been.

And as for the people who could possibly imply that his suicide had anything to do with her, wel , they were idiots too. And worse.

It wasnt that, she said. That didnt matter so much. It was that he didnt love me enough to stay here.

He was a fool, Jem said roughly. You know that, dont you? I cant not speak il of the dead in this case.

She nodded. But then: Benjamin wasnt a fool. He was just so unhappy that he forgot about me. There wasnt room in his mind for me.

Theres nothing in my mind but you, Jem said.

And then he set out to prove it to her, in an entirely satisfactory manner.

February 19, 1784

H arriet walked into the drawing room unprepared to find Isidore glittering like a bird of paradise. Or a princess. Harriet actual y blinked for a moment, watching her. Isidore was clinging to Jem as if he were the tree she was determined to nest inwhich was also strange and unexpected.

She was wearing a gown that fitted her like a second skin. It was made of a silver material that shimmered every time she moved. At her waist it bil owed into soft bil owing folds, transparent, pul ed back to reveal watered silk of a deep blue color. It was a dress for Marie Antoinette. It was a dress for a princess

Even more so when Harriet got close enough to realize that the bodice and skirts were sewn al over with tiny glittering stones.

Diamonds. And there were diamonds in Isidores hair too.

It took her a few minutes to actual y reach Isidores side; gentlemen were clustered around her as thickly as salmon swimming upstream, with Jem like a rock in the middle. He met her eyes over Isidores head and mouthed something, but she couldnt understand.

My darling Mr. Cope, Isidore cried lavishly. Her eyes were sparkling and yet, to Harriets eyes, they were wild.

She bowed. Your Grace.

Do look at this amusing missive I received today, Isidore said, dropping something into Harriets hand as she turned away to greet Lord Castlemaine.

Harriet unfurled a wrinkled bit of parchment.

I discover I have some missing property, read the note. Harriet frowned. The words were written in a strong hand, dashed off as if the writer cared little for penmanship. She almost missed the one remaining word. Tonight . And then: C , scrawled in the lower right corner.

Harriet gasped. The duke. Isidores Cosway. Isidores scheme had worked. He was here, not just here in England but here .

She started back toward Isidore, elbowing one of the jugglers sharply in the ribs.

Mr. Cope, Isidore said again. She was utterly exquisiteand as white as a water lily.

Harriet took her arm and pul ed her away from Jem, who looked rather relieved. Natural y al the men turned to fol ow, as if Isidore were some sort of rabbit and they the foxes.

Isidore smiled, that lavish erotic smile she had, the one that promised men everything and delivered nothing. Harriet could actual y see the man closest to her shiver a little. My dear Mr. Cope wil escort me toto We wil return, gentlemen, Harriet said, towing her away.

Im not ready, Isidore cried, the moment they were free of the crowd. Ive changed my mind, Harriet! I dont want Youve brought the man al the way from the Nile, Harriet said. Of course you want him.

Im not ready, Isidore said fiercely. In my bed , Harriet. Im not ready for that. With a stranger. Tonight!

In truth, it was a daunting prospect, put so bluntly. Isidore came to a halt. Its worse because of watching you and Harriet pinched her. Hush!

You know what I mean

And Harriet did. When she was married, if shed had any idea how much pleasure, joy, a man and woman could have togetherthe comparison to her own life would have broken her heart, probably.

Isidore she said, as they went through the door into the entrance hal . You must But the words died in her throat.

When she walked into the drawing room a mere two minutes before, the great foyer to Fonthil was populated only by a group of lackadaisical footmen. But now the front door was open, bringing with it a little swirl of snow and darkness.

She heard Poveys measured tones. Indeed, Your Grace, it is an unseasonably cold winter.

And then a deep laugh. Im not used to it, and Im shivering like a shorn lamb, I assure you.

Isidore went utterly rigid, and made a little sound of distress. The man was inside now, but his back to them. He was huge, wrapped in a greatcoat and an enormous fur hat.

I have to go upstairs, Isidore breathed.

Too late, Harriet said, stopping her. Hel see you on the stairs.

I cant

Harriet gave her the frown she gave repeat visitors to her courtroom. Yes, you can.

It was as if everything was happening in slow motion. The greatcoat was gone, and the hat was gone. Harriet had hardly time to see a great tumble of inky black hair, unpowdered and not even tied back, before he turned.

Her first thought was that he couldnt be English. Shed never seen an Englishman that colora sort of gorgeous mahogany. He wore a jacket that Vil iers would envy, made of pale blue but he didnt have it buttoned in the front, as was proper. She could see brown skin, right down below his throat. Where was his cravat? He wore no waistcoat. Long white cuffs tumbled over his hands, but rather than have them caught at the wrist by a pearl button, he wore them open. He was half dressed.

There was a moment of utter silence in the anteroom. The duke was looking only at Isidore.

Just as Harriet was about to say somethingsome sort of introduction!he swept into an extraordinarily deep bow. Her eyes fixed on his face, Isidore sank into a deep curtsy. Stil without saying a word, she held out her hand.