All Afternoon with a Scandalous Marquess (25 page)

Anna rose from her crouched position, the broken pieces of porcelain in her cupped hand. “It is not my place to question you—”

Madame Venna dismissed her friend’s words with a flick of her wrist. “We have been friends too long not to speak frankly.”

“Agreed.” Her friend’s gaze was troubled as she joined her on the bed. “An evening with Sainthill has put color in your cheeks and joy in your eyes.”

She almost choked on her mouthful of tea. “You make it sound as if I glide down the passageways like a grim specter.”

“Not at all. Taking a new lover is always a wonderful and thrilling experience. Except that you are very careful when it comes to men, and Sainthill is not a new lover. Catherine, you thought you had good reason to sever any intimate connection with him six years ago. And while it pleases me to see you happy, do you feel it is wise to allow him to get so close?”

Madame Venna straightened as she adjusted the sheet over her breasts to keep the fabric from slipping. “I do not believe anyone
allows
Saint to do anything. The man seems to do what he wants.”

“Hmm.”

“That is mighty vague.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking that many good people say the same thing about you.”

“Anna, what happened between Saint and I…” She gestured broadly with her piece of buttered toast. “It was lovely, and I refuse to regret it. Even so, this attraction we have will not last. No promises were made. No grand pledges of love were whispered in the dark. There is no future for us.”

“Perhaps not for you, but what of Catherine?”

“I think the Marquess of Sainthill will aspire higher than the bastard daughter of Lord Greenshield and Lady Eyre when he decides to marry,” she said drily. “Besides, Catherine has secrets.”

“Aye, the stubborn girl is
you.
”

Madame Venna rolled her eyes in exasperation. “A fact I am intimately acquainted with, my dear friend.”

“And what about Sainthill?” Anna demanded. “He knows both women. Catherine, you are playing a very dangerous game with him. What if he discovers the truth about Catherine?”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so certain?” Anna clasped Madame Venna’s hands before she could turn away. “He could ruin you and everything you’ve built. Sainthill has no loyalties to you, and what affection he has for either woman will not stem his anger or his thirst for vengeance once the
ton
learns the truth. He will become a laughingstock for playing the fool to a whore.”

She cringed, because her friend’s concerns echoed her own. “Enough, Anna. You have made your point.”

“I love you, Catherine. I do not want to see you hurt.”

Madame Venna dropped her toast on the plate. The unpleasant turn of their conversation had soured her appetite. “You worry too much. What Saint hungers for is purely physical. He will eventually tire of Madame Venna.”

Anna looked unconvinced. “Is that why he remained in your bed the entire night? Abram told me that Saint was seen leaving your bedchamber shortly after dawn.”

How could she explain what had transpired during the night without sounding naive or, worse, in love? She had expected him to leave after she told him about her escape from the Royles household. Although she had spared him most of the grim details, she had seen the revulsion in his gaze as she told her tale. Madame Venna also noted his pity. She hid more than her face behind the half-mask she wore, and she had given him a glimpse of the ugliness beneath.

Instead of leaving, Saint blew out the candle and hooked his arm around her waist until she settled comfortably against him. He did not attempt to explain away the horrors she endured that night or offer her sympathetic platitudes. She fell asleep in his protective embrace with the steady pounding of his heart against her back and his warm breath stirring her hair.

Her sleep had never felt so deep and restful.

Near sunrise, she awoke to his light caresses.

“I need you,” he whispered before covering her with his body.

Madame Venna parted her thighs, and his cock slid effortlessly into her womanly sheath. Their lovemaking was leisurely and tender. When Saint found his release, she was right there with him, and it was a wondrous experience.

She’d almost begged him to stay, but resisted. It was enough that Saint appeared reluctant to leave her.

“His stamina is impressive,” Madame Venna said lightly, fearing she had already revealed too much to her friend.

Anna smiled, her gaze slightly unfocused as she recalled her own experiences with the marquess. “Very much so. I know I am not the only one at the Golden Pearl who misses his visits.”

Madame Venna brought her fist to her breasts as the sharp pang of jealousy clawed at her heart. She scowled, surprised by her reaction. After all, she had been the one who had sent Anna and the other girls to Nox. It was foolish to feel threatened by encounters that took place years ago.

“Do not fret about Saint,” she said, sitting with as much dignity as she was able to muster while draped in a sheet. “For six years, he has wondered about Madame Venna, and his curiosity has been sated. Soon another lady will draw his attention and that will be the end of it.”

Anna arched her right brow. “And what of his interest in Catherine?”

Madame Venna gave her friend an exasperated look. “Well, he cannot have both of us!”

*   *   *

Not far from the Golden Pearl, Saint stared pensively out of one of Nox’s windows as he silently contemplated what he should do with the two women who were distracting him from his responsibilities. Neither lady was good for his sanity. This was not the first time he had flirted with danger by dallying with several women at once. Occasionally, these women were even willing to join him in bed together. Catherine and Madame Venna presented a whole new challenge, however, since they were the same woman.

Saint was in a delicate predicament, and a clever stratagem was required. If he revealed his hand too quickly, he would lose both women.

I’m such an arrogant arse,
he thought. Last evening, when he’d chased after Madame Venna, he thought he might be able to seduce the truth from her lips. He dragged his hand through his hair in frustration. In his experience, it was rare for a woman to live up to the anticipation he had built in his mind. It was one of the reasons why his affairs were brief. Once the initial lust had been assuaged, he usually lost interest.

Madame Venna, the devious wench, had ruined him. He had pushed her up against the wall of her bedchamber with the intention of pounding away the six years of anger, lust, and longing he had buried deep inside him. At some point during the night, the simple animalistic act of fucking had tempered into the sensual exploration of lovemaking. As he took her body, she had taken him, filling the emptiness inside him with feelings he had not been willing to share with her.

Saint had held her in the darkness as she slept trustingly in his arms and known contentment. It was the last thing he’d expected from her. When her dreams gave way to an old nightmare, he discovered the vulnerable, frightened woman beneath the guise of brazen confidence and cool sensuality that she presented to the world.

And the scars.

Renewed fury washed over him as he thought of the thin white lines that marred her lower back and buttocks. He wanted to hunt down and murder the person responsible. Although she had not given him a name, one man knew who had raised her. Saint wondered if Lord Greenshield was aware of the brutality his daughter had suffered by the very people who were supposed to protect her.

Or was she lying?

Had she spun a heart-wrenching tale to distract Saint from his earlier questions? He immediately dismissed the thought. Madame Venna had been asleep. Her distress had not been feigned. She might have omitted numerous details, but she had told him the truth.

“Are you participating in this conversation, Saint?”

Straightening from his contemplative slouch, he glanced at Sin. “Pardon? Did you ask a question?”

Vane snorted at Saint’s puzzled expression. “He’s not listening.”

“When has he ever?” was Dare’s sarcastic retort.

Reign chuckled. “He hasn’t heard one word since he sat down.”

The news did not sit well with Sin, since he had been the one prattling on for the past twenty minutes. His hazel-colored eyes narrowed. “Are we boring you, Saint?”

“My apologies, gents. I didn’t get much sleep.” Saint scrubbed his face with his hand. “What were we talking about?”

“Well, we were discussing the latest bit of violence on King Street and what we should do about it. Since your thoughts are more interesting, perhaps you would like to share them with all of us.”

He did not have a clue what his friends were talking about. “What violence?”

Reign rolled his eyes. “I told you that he hasn’t heard a single word.”

“Spending the night in a woman’s bed will do that to a man,” Hunter said to no one in particular. Stretched out on the sofa, his eyes were shut as if he was still recovering from last evening.

There was an awkward stillness in the room as five pairs of eyes collectively shifted from Hunter to him. There were various degrees of speculation and approval in his friends’ gazes. Frost just appeared to be amused.

“Exactly what happened last evening after you left the opera house with Madame Venna?” Sin asked.

Vane brought his fist to his mouth and chuckled. “More to the point, tell us how you departed with the lady?”

Hunter laughed, too, and the two men drew curious gazes from everyone but Saint. He had forgotten that they had witnessed his departure with Madame Venna.

“What happened?” Dare asked.

Reign whistled softly. “Oh, this should be good.”

“Nothing,” Saint all but snarled at Dare. He inhaled sharply as he swiftly realized his angry outburst would only prove that something indeed had happened. Besides, there were plenty of witnesses to recount the tale. “No, that is not quite true. There was an incident with Mulcaster in the entrance hall. Madame Venna was prepared to exchange heated words with him, and I—”

“He tossed Madame V over his shoulder and carried her out of the theater,” Hunter added helpfully.

“She seemed rather upset about the whole thing,” Vane said, his face turning an unpleasant pink as he struggled not to laugh.

“Bravo, Saint,” Frost drawled, clapping his hands. “I did not think you had the bollocks to tangle with such a spirited wench again. Or did she castrate you the moment her hands were free?”

Saint smirked as he resisted raising his hand in a vulgar, insulting gesture that was bound to lead to fisticuffs. “Though it’s no business of yours, I left the Golden Pearl at dawn with my bollocks intact.”

Sin made a soft sputtering noise of surprise. “Christ, you and Madame V? When I asked you to approach the woman, I was not suggesting that you bed her.”

Frost crossed his arms over his chest. “It was a sacrifice our friend was willing to make.”

“No one asked for your opinion, Frost,” Saint muttered.

“A pity,” Frost replied, grinning at him in his smug fashion. “When I have so many to share.”

Saint knew he was being baited by his friend, but it was difficult not to respond with a fist or a swift kick to the man’s arse. “Enough. No one is interested in your games.” He looked at Sin. “Tell me more about this violence on King Street.”

Ignoring Saint’s hint, Vane leaned forward with eagerness. “Oh, I disagree. I’m very interested in hearing more about you and Madame V.”

“I concur,” Dare added before Saint could respond. “Someone once told me that the woman was celibate. Practically a nun.”

“I thought she fancied women,” Reign admitted grudgingly.

Warming to the topic, Hunter opened his eyes. “I daresay Madame V has diligently studied at the school of Sappho, so she probably prefers both men and women.”

“I can personally attest that she has a fondness for males,” Frost said, his voice softening as he recalled his night with her. “Or perhaps Saint is having difficulties—” He pinched his fingers together, his meaning all too clear to everyone.

Saint lunged across the table before Frost could finish his sentence. He glided on his belly, his hands going for the bastard’s throat before anyone thought to stop him. His momentum sent them both crashing to the floor.

“Not again,” muttered Sin, happily willing to step out of the way.

Reign stood next to Sin and stared down at the fighting men. “Another typical afternoon at Nox, I say. I can recall a time or two when you wanted to throttle Frost.”

Sin nodded absently. “No truer words spoken. Though Berus should be pleased. He will not have to send servants to clean this room when we have these two stubborn clods polishing the floor with their arses.”

Saint was too angry to follow his friends’ inane conversation, so he shook Frost to make certain he had his attention. “Finish that sentence and you will be gathering your scattered teeth from the rug. I have no intention of pulling out my cock for your inspection, but I can assure you that Madame Venna is not seeking to replace me with you or any other gent.”

He froze as he realized the gravity of his confession just uttered in the presence of his closest friends.

“And what of Catherine,
gent
?” Frost asked, flashing his white teeth. “Think she’ll mind sharing you with the proprietress of the Golden Pearl?”

Several of his friends murmured their astonishment at Frost’s audacity in provoking Saint further. Unlike his mocking friend, they were unaware that Catherine and Madame Venna were the same lady.

“One day, someone is going to grant you the eternal peace you seem to be begging for, Frost,” Saint said, releasing the earl’s throat and standing.

Frost sat up, his hands moving to his throat to straighten his cravat. “If I am to die, it will not be by your hand.”

Probably not, but he was in no mood to comfort his friend. “Just do us both a favor and refrain from speaking of Madame V in my presence.” He rubbed his temples, acutely aware that his friends were staring at him. “And Catherine. I will handle the matter on my own terms.”