My Lady's Pleasure (36 page)

Isis, still lying in the water, felt far away, and she pulled herself up and put her arms around Napoleon’s neck. The stranger’s head was right there, and she explored the contours of his face. When she traced his lips with her index finger, he took that finger in his mouth and sucked it, hard. He didn’t let it go, and the wet warmth of his mouth echoed the wet warmth that was emanating from inside her.

Still the man kept control of all of them. He held Isis to Napoleon’s front, and himself to his back. He would speed up, just a bit, and then slow. He would hold them all together more firmly, and then give them some breathing space. He would take them right to the edge, and then he would make them all step back. It was all but unendurable.

Finally, he let it happen. Napoleon felt Isis tense in every muscle and push herself against him at the same moment that the man behind him did the same. And then the three of them were enveloped by an orgasm that ran through them like a tidal wave.

After it died away, Isis let go her hold and floated away on her back, and the two men separated and drifted in different directions. After a minute or two, the stranger walked out of the lake, put on his clothes, and simply walked away. Napoleon and Isis got out a few minutes later, dressed as best they could, and headed back toward the house. No word was spoken.

The three had shared an experience, but they shared nothing else. None had ever met the others until this night, and chances were good that the three would never meet again. They hadn’t even exchanged names, and Isis and the stranger would no doubt have been very surprised to find that they had shared such an experience with the Earl of Grantsbury.

T
he changed atmosphere of the party and the charge in the air made Alphonse Gerard, still wearing his oilcloth sou’wester but not his mask or his hat, think about Rose. If only he could find her . . .

But no. He had said his good-byes to her already, and he had sworn to walk the straight and narrow, at least until his courtship of Miss Niven was resolved one way or the other. But he had a lascivious side, and his abstemiousness cost him a pang.

Instead, he went to find Miss Niven. There were still a few couples dancing, and perhaps he could lure her out on the floor once more.

He found her on a sofa, unmasked, sitting in a large group of guests, most of whom were somewhat older than she, and all of whom seemed to be at the point of exhausting their party endurance. Gerry stood behind her and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Hullo, Miss Niven,” he said.

She turned around, and he was delighted to see that a smile lit up her face. “Gerry! I was just thinking about you.” She stood up and walked around the sofa to where he was standing, but not without stumbling and almost falling into the lap of a man Gerry did not recognize.

“I’m so glad to shee you,” she said. Her eyes were unnaturally bright, and even a man without Gerard’s experience with drunken companions could see that she had had far too much wine.

“And I you,” he said gallantly, taking her elbow firmly. “Let us find a quiet spot and see if there isn’t a cup of coffee to be had.”

“Oh, I don’t want coffee,” Miss Niven said. She waved her hand in dismissal, and the gesture almost cost her her footing. “I know I’ve had too much to drink, but I daresay I shall be fine tomorrow without coffee tonight. But let us by all means find a quiet spot.”

They did. And as soon as they had sat down, Alexandra said, “I have something important to tell you.”

Gerry raised his eyebrows. “Do you indeed?”

“I do.” She hiccuped, in what Gerry thought was almost a parody of inebriation. He half expected that little bubbles would come out of her mouth.

“Do you remember when you asked me to marry you?” she said. She flopped back in her chair and looked at him as though he might really have forgotten.

He was surprised. This was the last topic he expected her to embark upon at such at time, in such a state.

“You may not credit it, but I actually do have a hazy memory of just that,” he said with a smile. “But perhaps such a serious topic isn’t appropriate conversation for such a festive occasion.” He was terribly afraid that her liquor had emboldened her to tell him no, and he knew that, once the word was said, it would probably not be unsaid.

Since he had made his proposal, he had steeled himself for her eventual refusal. He understood that he was not without his charms and attractions, but he understood also that those charms and attractions might very well not be enough for a beautiful, intelligent girl twenty years his junior.

“I think it is the perfect occasion. I think you should know that I mean to do it. To marry you.” She said this with the tone of a mother telling her young child that she meant to let him have cherry pie for breakfast.

Gerry sat back in his chair and looked at Miss Niven openmouthed. How was he to respond to this? If she really did mean to marry him, she would make him the happiest man in the empire. But was this simply the wine talking, and was this a decision she would repent in the cold light of morning?

He would not let her take such a step under the influence of strong drink. And, in his characteristically straightforward way, that was what he told her.

“My dear girl. If you decide to accept the hand I have offered you, it will be a source of joy unbounded to me. But I will not allow you to make the decision in your current state.”

She waved her hand. “Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t make it in my current state. I made it before. I’m perfectly certain.” But then she looked uncertain as to just what it was she was certain about, and Gerry laughed aloud.

Drunk as she was, she knew her own mind, and her acceptance of his proposal was in earnest. Before the evening began, she had been leaning toward accepting him, and the incident of Freddy and the dance pushed her over the top. The contrast between the two men was so great, and showed Gerry to be such a superior, considerate, gentlemanly man, that she could not help but decide in his favor.

And she liked him. She liked him greatly, and she thought she could love him. She was at her ease in his presence, she enjoyed his conversation, and, most important, she thought she could entrust her future to him. She felt safe with him. Safe and loved. Hours before the wine caught up with her, she knew she wanted to marry him.

Gerry knew none of this, of course. He knew only that he had to get her upstairs.

“This is a conversation we will certainly continue in the morning,” he said as he helped her to her feet. “Or perhaps the afternoon,” he added, skeptical that she would be in a talking frame of mind any time before midday.

A young servant girl was clearing glasses nearby, and Gerry motioned to her.

“This lady could very much use our assistance, I think,” he said. “Perhaps you would be so good as to come with us upstairs and help get her to bed.”

The girl looked doubtful; this wasn’t part of the job she’d been hired to do for the evening. When Gerry slipped her a half crown, though, she thought she could see her way clear to making it part of her duties.

Gerry got Miss Niven up to her room and left her with the girl, trusting that, with the servant’s assistance, she would get to bed.

On his way back down the stairs, he encountered Lady Georgiana going up them. Like most of the remaining guests, she had taken off her mask.

“Off to bed so soon?” he asked.

“No, I’m afraid,” she answered, and waved a small note she held in her hand. “I have been summoned upstairs for a late-night chat.” She said it breezily enough, but Gerry sensed she wasn’t happy about the prospect of the interview.

“Nothing alarming or disagreeable, I hope,” he said.

“I hope the same.” Her mouth stretched into something halfway between a smile and a grimace, and then she continued up the steps.

It was clear she was not happy about her summons, and, as Gerry watched her go, he wondered if he should offer to accompany her, or intervene in some way. Had she turned around, he probably would have made such an offer, but she did not turn around, and he continued on downstairs.

Georgiana was indeed unhappy about the note that asked her to come upstairs to what was laughingly referred to at Penfield as the grand laboratory. It was a small room, tucked away in a far corner of the house, where Lord Loughlin kept a telescope. When he was younger, he had been interested in astronomy, and used to go up there of an evening and make notes about stars and planets. In recent years, though, his interest had waned and the room was little used.

Lady Georgiana had been in it only once in all her years of visiting Penfield, and it struck her as very odd, and even a little suspicious, that she was to meet there for a tête-à-tête.

It was Barnes, naturally, whom she was to meet. She had been in the drawing room talking with the same group Gerry had extracted Alexandra from, when Rose, the parlor maid, came to her with a little folded note on a tray.

She had unfolded and read it.
Meet me in the grand lab. I must speak with you. B.

She folded it up again and held it in her lap as she considered her options. She could understand that Barnes might want to speak with her again, and she could even understand why he might like to speak with her privately. It was possible, she knew, that she had hurt him rather badly, in which case she should now be as kind to him as she could.

But why the grand lab?

She wasn’t sure whether she ought to go. Was it conceivable that he meant to do her harm? Had he wanted to harm her, she felt sure he simply would have done it, and not asked for an appointment, but her last two interviews with the man had made her see that there might be menace in him. She considered that he might be the person behind the threats to her and Alexandra, although she could think of only the flimsiest of motives for his missives to her, and none whatsoever for those to her friend.

She thought also of the times they had spent together. She thought of the pull she had felt for him, and the way he had made her feel. She thought particularly of their evening in the lake, and thoughts of menace receded. Surely she knew this man better than to think he would harm her.

She resolved that she would go, and made her excuses to the company.

As she made her way to the staircase, it was the good memories she had of him that she replayed in her mind. The more she thought of them, the less trepidation she felt about the upcoming interview. When she encountered Gerry on the stairwell, though, the meeting derailed her thoughts, and as she continued up the stairs the trepidation returned, and she even thought about asking him to accompany her.

When she had gone some ten steps beyond him, she decided she would do just that, but when she turned around he was already on his way down the stairs, and she changed her mind.

Up she went. She had to pass through the wing of the house where many of the guests’ bedchambers were, and she occasionally heard the murmur of conversation, or the sounds of more intimate activities. Fortunately, Penfield had electric lights throughout, and the corridors were bright. She felt sure she would have had trouble facing an eerie dimness at this time of night, in these circumstances.

She passed through the guest corridor and mounted a staircase at the far end. Lord Loughlin had placed his observatory in the top corner of the house, as far as possible away from the electric lights and as close as possible to the stars he was intent on observing.

Why the grand lab? The question revolved around and around in her head.

Once at the head of the staircase, she was on the top floor of the house. All that remained between her and the grand lab was a long gallery with the relics of Lord Loughlin’s family. There were portraits of his Irish ancestors dating back hundreds of years, and objets d’art that Lady Loughlin had deemed too fusty for the main house. There was even a suit of armor that dated back two centuries, the memento of an ancestor who fought King William at the Battle of the Boyne.