Legendary Lover (13 page)

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"Nor do I," the marquis silkily replied, reaching out to take Venus's hand.

Groten's
mouth went grim. "Stay clear,
Redvers
."

"How dare you both!" Venus exclaimed, wrenching away from her partner.
"As if I don't have a mind of my own!"
Her heated gaze swung from one man to the other. "Kindly leave me out of your battles!" Spinning away, she stalked off the floor, the duchess close behind.

Peggy caught up with Venus in the corridor outside the ballroom and offered her sympathy in slightly breathless accents.

Venus smiled at her and slowed her pace. "I'm not in the mood to be fought over. Not that I ever am. It's so childish."

The sound of running feet suddenly echoed down the corridor.

"Ignore him," Venus said, knowing who was behind her. Only the marquis would so disregard etiquette.

"He's rather hotheaded, my dear," the duchess warned, although she was delighted at the delicious turn of events. She'd never seen Jack so enthralled. "And young and impetuous, I'm afraid."

Venus pursed her lips. "That's hardly an excuse for his behavior."

"I understand. Jack shouldn't have made such a scene."

"He certainly should not."

"I admit I'm rather perplexed by his actions." And she was. Jack's conduct was incredible—but gratifying in the extreme.

"I refuse to be treated like a possession," Venus hotly said. "If he thinks he can just—"

Her sentence was abruptly curtailed as Jack scooped

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her
up into his arms without altering his stride. Swiftly passing the duchess, he said, "We'll be at the river, but don't come to visit."

He maintained his firm grip against Venus's struggles. "Now you can fight this, or you can pretend you've fainted." Jack's voice was brusque. "I'd suggest the latter. Here come the Duke and Duchess of
Buccleigh
."

Understanding the fashionable world's appearances-at-all-costs maxim, she shut her eyes and let her body go limp. If she was being carried away, the fiction of ill health would offer the requisite credible explanation. There would be gossip, of course.

But none that could be substantiated.

Reaching the staircase, Jack nodded to the duke and duchess. "The lady's fainted. The heat," he explained, his expression suitably concerned. And then he was past them and descending the stairs with quicksilver haste. They met another couple before reaching the entrance hall, and a handful more guests milling around waiting for their carriages, but the marquis was a consummate actor and no one risked a question should he take issue. He had a dangerous reputation for dueling.

Venus felt the cool night air on her face when they exited the Darlington mansion, but he said in an undertone, "Not just yet," and then in a conversational voice, "Good
_:
evening, Countess
Nottington
. The lady's fainted from the heat. A shame, I know . . . such a crush upstairs." And for a time, only the click of his heels on the paved drive sounded in the night as he moved down the carriageway to his vehicle.

Moments later, he curtly said, "We're going to the river, Sam."

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Venus's eyes snapped open. "You don't actually think I'm going there with you."

"I actually
know
you are," he replied, dismissing with a nod the servant who'd come forward to open the carriage door. Twisting the latch himself, he pulled the door open, leaned into the vehicle to deposit her on the seat, and climbed in behind her. He shut the door with a snap.

She stared at him mutinously. "It won't do you any good to take me there."

Dropping into the seat beside her, he calmly said, "Why don't we see."

"You're making a mistake, Jack. I won't be docile about being abducted. You're taking on a deal of trouble."

"Perhaps I can change your mind," he softly said.

"Save your seductive phrases for your adoring ladyloves." She moved into the farthest corner of the seat, although in the limited interior space, his body was still disturbingly close.

"We don't have to discuss it now."

"We don't have to discuss it at all. Take me home."

"I'll take you home tomorrow if you still wish to go."

"So sure of yourself,
Redvers
.
This time you're wrong. I'm not interested in men with
droit-du-seigneur
mentalities. You'll be taking me home in the morning." And so saying, she closed her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back against the padded wall.

Self-assured and confident, he didn't attempt further argument, particularly since he was familiar with the lady's easily roused passions. They would be at the cottage within the hour, away from the inanity of the ton, from all the men wanting her as much as he, away from

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watchful
eyes. He softly exhaled, relaxing in the wake of their highly visible escape, the rhythm of the carriage lulling his senses, the presence of the lady he coveted adding immeasurably to his contentment. Let her sulk now. There was plenty of time later to assuage her anger.

Within minutes, Venus had fallen asleep, exhausted after the previous
sleepness
night and the late hour, not in the habit of staying up for days like Jack. Even when they arrived at the cottage, she only briefly came out of her doze.

"Sleep," Jack whispered. "I'll wake you in the morning."

She mumbled an unintelligible reply as he lifted her into his arms. Carrying her in from the carriage, he put her to bed without waking her, taking off her
ballgown
and shoes before covering her. Then, pouring himself a cognac, he sat by the bed and watched her sleep in the glow of the grate.

He felt as though he'd been awarded a resplendent prize, having her here with him, having her alone in his hermit's cottage. He marveled at the rare sensibilities she triggered, basked in the singular pleasure she engendered, aware of the uniqueness of his feelings.

In those quiet hours of the night, he tried to come to terms with her curious hold on him, attempted to
understand.her
special appeal. There was no single word or multitude of words that gave credence to his feelings. Rather it was an amorphous consciousness, both enticing and exhilarating. And it took no more than one of her smiles to make him feel that way—although he didn't discount the impress of her ravishing sexuality.

But he'd fucked for days on end before, and felt only

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a
weariness and vague disinterest afterward. So her allure wasn't exclusively sexual.

After a time, however, his musings seemed too much like the riddle of the universe, with no timely, facile answer, so he drained his glass of cognac, undressed, and climbed into bed next to the woman who consumed his thoughts.

Lying beside her, he listened to the night sounds, the crickets and frogs, the small fish owls, the rippling flow of the river, and smiled into the darkness.

This must be happiness, he thought, with a degree of wonder.

Strange.

Distinct from amusement.

Satisfying, like a glorious rainbow after the rain.

Chapter
9
—-
esse
               

S
/'AKING EARLY, THE SUN STILL A PEACH-GOLD

gleam
on the horizon, he rose and went for a swim as though he needed exercise to calm the agitation of his thoughts.

For with morning had come cooler reason.

With morning had come the necessity of setting some limits on what he was willing to offer.

With morning, he'd become Jack Fitz-James again, with a woman in his bed and a life of independence in his future.

He made breakfast because he was famished and he liked to cook at his river cottage, and he thought perhaps the scent of food would soothe the wild beast in his houseguest.

An unerring truth, as it turned out.

When he brought in her breakfast tray, he found her stretching lazily, her gaze bereft of anger, a faint smile on her face.

"I offer you breakfast and a thousand apologies. I could say I was drunk, if you wish," he added, placing the tray on her lap.

"But you
weren't, of course, only wanting
what you wanted."

"
Groten's
an ass."

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"I agree. Now what did you bring me for breakfast?" she queried, lifting the linen napkin from her plate.

"You're impressively agreeable this morning."

"And you're impressively talented with poached eggs and ham, or do you have a chef hidden in the closet?" Setting the napkin aside, she began cutting her ham.

Beginning to feel a niggling unease, he moved to a chair by the window and sat down at a safe distance. Did she have some ulterior motive? Had he stepped into some devious female trap?

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"I already have."

"Don't look so apprehensive. I don't have a priest hidden in my reticule." She smiled. "See, I can read your mind."

He slid into a comfortable sprawl, his mood lightened. "I'm continually astonished at your sense of situation."

"Unlike your usual paramours who all want your money and title and perhaps you as well.
Now there's a thought, eh, my lord?"

"You mean if I were penniless, I'd be less appealing?"

She surveyed him over her coffee cup for several moments. "Perhaps you're an exception to the rule. I believe you'd be appealing without a farthing. Now don't become excessively prideful. I dislike conceited men in my bed."

She could have stripped naked and struck a licentious pose in terms of the shocking impact of her words. Instantly aroused, he shifted in his lounging pose to accommodate his swelling erection. "Then I'll endeavor to remain humble."

"You don't have a humble bone in your body, darling.

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But I'll overlook your shameless self-confidence for selfish reasons of my own. Did you bring condoms?"

"And if I said no?"

"I'd say go and get some and hurry back."

He smiled. "My valet bought and packed a sufficient number."

"Are you planning on staying here long?"

Talk of the future, however innocuous, brought him sitting straighter. His gaze took on a new gravity. "We need some ground rules," he quietly said.

"Meaning?" she said as quietly, her toast arrested halfway to her mouth.

"I'm not interested in love. Forgive me if that's too blunt."

"Nor am I," she succinctly replied, taking a bite of her toast. "And blunt is fine. Is there more?"

"Perhaps we should agree on some time limit to this ..."

"Holiday?" she suggested. "I'm afraid I really do have a limited number of days I can allocate to dissipation." Her smile was delectable, like that perfect sunrise rarely seen.

He visibly
relaxed,
his answering smile full of charm. "Then you must tell me what I can do to make your holiday enjoyable."

"Oh, 1
think
we both know what that is."

"Do you do this often?" he abruptly asked, though he shouldn't. A man who deliberately made known his preference for amour over love didn't have the right to ask.

"I'm not sure I care to tell you." She knew, too, he had no right to ask; perhaps wisely, she didn't wish for him to know he was the first.

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"Fair enough," he neutrally said, but a touch of pique simmered in him. How many men had she been with? How many other mornings had she woken with that dazzling smile for the man beside her? As if to test the level of her profligacy or flaunting of convention, he said, "Am I forgiven for my abduction of you from Darlington House?"

"You mean you're not going to marry me, now that you've compromised my reputation?"

He sat bolt upright, looking stricken, and she laughed.

"Very funny," he muttered.

"Rest assured
,
I'll expect some penance for that gross faux pas. You understand some very fine walking-of-the-line will be required to carry off our pretense of fainting. Not that I had a choice." She frowned at him. "You really should learn to control your temper."

"My apologies, my most profound apologies," he said with a small sigh. "In the cold light of day, my actions appear exceedingly rash."

"I've had plenty of time since last night to deal with the practicalities of the situation, and I've come to the conclusion that since I'm leaving England shortly and am not apt to return any time soon, the scandal should die away quietly." She shrugged. "My
grandpere
says decisions are made on the battlefield. We can't always live life by neatly defined rules."

His dark brows rose in commendation. "You're very remarkable."

"My family's remarkable. I was fortunate."

"My family was detestable." He grimaced. "But I survived."

"Reason for gratitude, then," she said, smiling, then