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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] that will make everyone happy, especially yourself. I gazed into her kind eyes. Her caresses had lulled me into a dreamy state, one in which I could not bring myself to worry. Everything will be lovely, I said in a sleepy voice. Most lovely. She smoothed the hair back from my forehead. It serves no one to deny your true nature, my lady. After that, she helped me sit up and arranged my hair down my back. Look at you, beautiful as an angel. You re the angel, I believe, I murmured. With a cheeky wink, she left the bedchamber. I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair flowed down my back, golden as a sheaf of wheat in the sun. My lips were pink and softly parted. My eyes glowed with a sweet light, the light blue of a spring morning. The flush still sat upon my cheeks, and the neckline of the nightdress revealed a creamy curve of flesh. It serves no one to deny your true nature. I knew my heart. I loved the Duke. That truth was written in stone. I had accepted the prospect of a loveless marriage with Dorchester. But now that I d fallen so entirely, thoroughly in love with the Duke, everything looked different. Everything looked impossible. * * * * * 111 My Three Lords Are you attempting to murder your horse? the Marquis yelled to the Duke, who was hurtling across the fields several lengths ahead of his companions during their morning ride. The Duke didn t answer. Take care with that beast, Warrington. He s far too fine a piece of horseflesh to be pounded in such a way. At the Earl s shouted warning, Warrington pulled on the reins. His gelding reared into the air, hooves clawing, then danced back down on all fours. You dare to speak to me of how best to treat my horse, when you can t treat your own wife with the proper respect? Whoa, said the Marquis, bringing his white mare to a snorting, foaming halt at his side. Those are words a gentleman might take as an affront. Indeed, the Earl s face had turned bright red. I treat my wife with every respect. Does a wager demonstrate respect? Have you no thought, no sensitivity? Did either of you pause to wonder how such a bet would make her feel? The Marquis toyed with his riding crop. And just how do her feelings concern you? The Duke tossed his proud head. Why should they not? She s a sensitive, tender- hearted soul. The Marquis perked up his ears as if he were a foxhound on the scent. And how would you know this? Yes, how? the Earl echoed suspiciously. It matters not. The pieces of a puzzle begin to fall into place. The Marquis ticked off the points on his fingers. The lateness of your rising this morning, the mysterious footprints causing alarm among my servants, a rowboat out of place. You had an adventure last night, my dear one. 112 Juniper Bell What adventure? Where? Where d you go? inquired the Earl, much like a dog with bone. My whereabouts are not relevant to this discussion. The Duke wore a look of thunder. Perhaps not, but I venture to guess your choice of companion is extremely relevant. Companion? Great balls of fire, does this concern my wife? The Earl sliced his crop through the air, frightening his horse. I demand an answer. Come now, Dorch. The Duke glanced over at the Marquis, who looked equally taken aback. An answer, or I ll see you for pistols at dawn! Pistols at& Dorch, really, don t be absurd. The Marquis took hold of the great black s bridle, but Dorch pulled his thoroughbred away. I m tired of you both telling me what to do and where to go and who to get married to. And then you both want to fuck her. I ve had enough of it. Pistols at dawn. The Earl dug his spurs into the horse s side and galloped at a crackling pace toward the open fields. The Marquis flicked a speck of horse spittle from his coat. He must learn to control his temper, that boy. Nobody duels anymore, after all, the law forbids it. No. He s right. The Duke s dark tone made the Marquis look up in surprise. The Duke frowned down at his riding gloves. I ve done wrong by the boy. I must answer for my crimes. It will be pistols at dawn, but& But what? Only one of us will be firing. * * * * * 113 My Three Lords The Marquis came to me in greater distress than seemed possible for such a jaded gentleman. I was wandering in the garden among the heavy-headed roses in a brown study of my own, attempting to find a path through my troubles. We must do something immediately, or all will be lost, he declared. I wondered if perhaps he was rehearsing a role in a tableau. Is your waistcoat ripped, my lord? Your cravat stained? Is it? He glanced in alarm at his cravat, but even my teasing could not distract him from his distress for long. This is no matter for joking, I m afraid. Your husband intends to put a period to my& to the Duke. A horrible chill rooted me to the ground. No. He cannot. So I told him, but he listens not to me. Oh, what have I done? He wrung his hands, for all the world like a young girl enacting a Cheltenham tragedy. But perhaps it s only what I deserve. You? I truly never intended any harm. Especially to one who is blameless. One who is fine in every way, who is Slowtop that I am, the truth finally dawned. You love the Duke. The Marquis turned as pink in the face as the peony rose he stood next to. But, but, I love him too. The Marquis snapped the head off the rose and shredded its helpless petals. Well, and what of it? Shall we fight a duel for his favors? We d best do it soon, as by dawn tomorrow he will be no more. Dorch means business, and Warrington means to stand [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |