Rules of Passion (7 page)

Aphrodite cast up her eyes, but she was smiling.

“Do you see now why I think I would make a very good courtesan, madame? I am not looking for romance, I am very practical, and my reputation is already in tatters.”

Now Aphrodite laughed aloud, but sobered as quickly. “You say these things, but you do not really know—”

“That is why I want you to teach me!”

The courtesan’s dark gaze slid over her, before returning to her face. She was reading her, judging her sincerity, and suddenly it was extremely important that Aphrodite take her seriously.

“Aphrodite, please,” she sounded as desperate as she felt. “I don’t know what else to do but ask you again to help me.”

“Hush, child, listen to me for just one moment. Have you truly considered what it is you
are
asking
of me? You will be stepping well outside the boundaries of polite society. You think you are beyond them now, but you are not. Being a courtesan is to be a woman apart.
Is
that what you want? Have you truly understood what this decision will mean in five, ten, twenty years time?”

The way Aphrodite put it did make the consequences of her decision sound daunting, but Marietta was not a coward. She had chosen her direction and would not turn back so easily—besides what were her alternatives? Allow Oliver to find some willing victim to wed her despite her ruined reputation? Live at Berkley Square as a spinster aunt for the remainder of her days? The choice of courtesan was exciting and a little frightening in comparison because it was so unconventional, but it was one she was eager to embrace.

Of course, there was her family to consider and the effect upon them. Marietta was aware that people would call her selfish, and that there would be gossip, but she had thought long and hard on the matter and she did not see that the situation could be much worse than it already was—she was the ruined sister already. Her family might suffer privately from her actions, yes, but that did not mean the rest of the world needed to know. She would change her name, her identity—Marietta would vanish from sight and Madame Coeur would be born—that was the name she had chosen for herself. In time her family would accept her decision and see that it was right for her—Marietta truly believed that.

“There would be compensations, surely?” she said at last.

“Oh yes, there are compensations.” Aphrodite tapped her chin with one elegant finger. “May I suggest something to you,
mon petit puce?
Before you make up your mind irrevocably, I want you to have a…a, what do they call it, a trial! Not a trial in a court, I do not mean that. I want you to try out the life of a courtesan, and see if it is what you really want.”

“But I know I—” Marietta began impatiently.

“Yes, yes, you think you know. But the reality of living such a life is quite different to the imagining of it. And when I say to try it out, I am not saying you should wander about Aphrodite’s Club peeping into doorways. No, you should work with a flesh and blood man. Someone who is willing to take part in your game, but who knows it is a temporary affair, and that if you change your mind he has no power over you whatsoever.”

Marietta trembled, feeling the excitement building inside her. “I won’t change my mind. It is what I want above all things.”

“I almost believe you.”

“
Almost
…” Marietta felt frustrated. Why wouldn’t Aphrodite believe her? Why couldn’t she accept that Marietta was completely sincere in her desire?

“No, no, listen to me,
mon petit puce
. If you do as I tell you, and if, once the game is over, you still want to pursue the life of a courtesan, then I promise I will help you. I will give my time and experience to you, completely!”

“I don’t understand,” Marietta said carefully. “You want me to practice at being a courtesan but you also want me to have the option of changing my mind if I don’t like it? How can I do that? Once I have
burnt my bridges, then surely I can never go back to being Miss Marietta Greentree?”

“No, you cannot. But I have an idea. You will choose one man upon whom to practice. You will play the courtesan with him, learning how to think and use your senses, and at the same time he will teach you what it is to feel desire and to mold that desire for your own purposes. So you will both gain something from your liaison, and neither will go away unhappy, whatever the final outcome.”

“I don’t want to fall in love—” Marietta began uneasily.

“I did not say that you would love him,
mon petit puce
. I said you would
desire
him. A courtesan must desire, she must learn to show the man she is with that she desires, make him feel as if he is everything to her, the best of lovers. You see?”

“Yes, I see.” Marietta thought a moment, some of her excitement fading beneath a new apprehension. “But who would agree to such a thing? I don’t know any man who would be willing to be used like that and then say nothing if I changed my mind—which I won’t!”

Aphrodite gave her a little smile, and reached out to open the bedroom door. Inside, Max lay unmoving upon the bed, his dark curls tumbling over the white bandage, his profile pale and handsome.

And even before she spoke, Marietta knew what she was going to say.

“M
ax? You want me to use Max? Oh no, you cannot mean—”

“But why not Max? He is embroiled in a terrible scandal so if he decides to tell the world your secrets then no one will listen to a word he says. But he will not tell because he is a gentleman, and a desirable one, with a great deal of experience. He can teach you much, and you can use your new skills upon him. He is perfect for the role.”

Aphrodite wanted her to use Max in her courtesan training. She wanted Max to teach her about desire. She wanted Marietta to practice seduction and the use of her senses on Max…

“Good heavens,” she whispered.

“He is a good choice, Marietta. I would not suggest him if I thought he would be any danger to you.”

“But…he wanted to buy me for an entire night’s pleasure!”

“An entire night, eh?” Aphrodite smiled wickedly. “That was when he made the mistake of thinking you were one of my protégés. As soon as he realized his error he became the perfect gentleman once more.
That
was why he was so upset with you, my innocent Marietta. Lord Roseby had set his heart upon having ‘connection’ with you, but he is far too much of an English gentleman to seduce what he thinks is an innocent girl of your class and breeding. He is the perfect man for your little game,
oui
?”

“Oh.” Was that why he had been so cross—like a little boy who has been given a shilling and finds the sweets shops are all closed? Because he had wanted her and he believed she was out of his reach.

Aphrodite was twisting a gold mesh bangle upon her slim wrist. “So, do you think you can persuade his lordship to say yes?”

“I am not sure,” Marietta said pensively. She took a breath. “I beg your pardon, Aphrodite, but even if he does want my body, I cannot believe he would agree to play such a role.”

Aphrodite chuckled. “He is hurt and you are caring for him. Max is a gentleman and he will feel he owes you a favor, Marietta. Make use of that. And as for him not agreeing to play such a part…Doesn’t that make it an even greater test of your skills? It will be a challenge, and I think that is what you need. I want you to show me you are serious in your endeavor.”

“But—”

Aphrodite grew formidable. “No buts, listen to me now. In this game there will be rules you must abide by and there will be tasks you must accomplish. I will set you a task, and when you have completed it,
then I will set you another, and so it will go. When the game is over, if you have completed all your tasks to my satisfaction, without breaking the rules, then I promise that I will help you in whatever way you wish.”

The thought of Aphrodite’s unconditional help made her giddy. But Marietta was a practical girl, and she asked, “What will my first task be?”

“Ah, he must kiss you—”

“But that is simple!”

“Yes, but you must ask him to show you
how
to kiss.”

Marietta’s cheeks flushed pink. There was something very risqué in such an idea, and yet she said, “I know how to kiss. Gerard kissed me.”

“
Psht
! Who was this Gerard? He was a nobody. Max Valland is a duke’s son, Marietta, who has been on the town for many years and has had a great many women. Believe me, he knows how to kiss.”

Marietta found that she had to actually take a deep breath, in order to think clearly. “When you say that Max and I will have a temporary affair, do you mean we will…do you mean it will be physical?”

Aphrodite looked at her carefully. “It will be whatever you wish, Marietta. Do not frighten yourself yet with what may or may not happen. Let things develop and wait and see,
oui
? Each affair has its own pace, its own beginning and its own end. First you must get Max to agree, and that may well prove the most difficult part of all.”

But if what Aphrodite said was true, and Max desired her body, then surely that would be to her advantage? His wanting her would help her to win
him over. Therefore it would not be as difficult as she feared, and Aphrodite would
have
to keep her promise.

“Very well,” she said quickly. “I will do it.”

“Then it is a bargain.”

“Thank you for—”

But Aphrodite motioned her to silence, and her voice was brisk once more. “We will talk about it again. I will make sure that Vivianna knows you are staying tonight. Remember to ask Dobson or the servants if there is anything you need. The club will be open and busy until dawn, so do not fear you are disturbing them.”

“Thank you.”

Aphrodite left, and Marietta slipped back inside the bedroom with Max. She stood close to the bed, so that she could look down at him. Suddenly this stranger had taken on a new and fascinating appeal. He was going to help her attain her wishes—somehow she must persuade him to agree, whether he wanted to or not.

Max lay very still beneath the bedclothes. Dobson had stripped him of his clothing after he sent Marietta from the room, and Marietta didn’t know whether he was completely naked or not, but she could see his bare shoulders and throat. Smooth skin curved over the muscles of his upper arms, and his throat was broad and strong, while on his chest, just before the bedclothes cut off her view, there were some wisps of dark hair.

She barely remembered Gerard Jones without his clothes on and what she did remember made her shudder. There had been a great deal of haste; per
haps Gerard had realized Marietta was having serious doubts and might balk at the final hurdle. Had she enjoyed it? No, she hadn’t. She had lost her virginity and her reputation for very little, really. If a girl was ruined, then shouldn’t she at least savor it?

Marietta hovered over Max. The doctor had done a good job when he sewed the wound and bandaged it, and apart from some of the blood that still matted strands of his hair, Max looked clean and comfortable. His whiskers were beginning to show dark against his pale skin, and when she ran her fingertip over his jaw, it felt slightly prickly and rough. Is this what she would do, if she really was a courtesan out to seduce him? Touch him like this?

It was surprisingly easy—a tremble of excitement started deep in her belly, spreading outwards. Her fingers seemed to move of their own accord, exploring the firm flesh of his chin and jaw, running very lightly over his thin upper lip and the more sensual lower one. She immediately imagined those lips on hers. She touched his eyelids, gently, and brushed her fingertips through the thick curls of his hair. Yes, seducing Max Valland would be an enjoyable experience. But…

With a sigh she drew her hand away.

But that was because Max was asleep and could not frown at her or give her one of his haughty ducal looks. Things would be totally different when he was awake and himself again.

If, that is, he ever was.

Marietta sobered abruptly. This was neither the time nor the place to play at being a courtesan. Max was hurt, and despite the doctor’s optimism, may be seriously so. And she was his nurse. Tempting as it
was, it would not be fair to take advantage of him in his unconscious state.

Marietta sank back into her chair and prepared to keep vigil.

Aphrodite was readying herself to go to Berkley Square, a smile hovering at the corners of her mouth as she remembered her conversation with her second daughter. Marietta believed her task to be an easy one, but Aphrodite knew differently. Max, Lord Roseby, would put up a fight, and although in the end Marietta would probably get her way, the journey would be an interesting one.

As for Marietta, Aphrodite was not certain that she really knew just what she was asking. It was true that she had caused herself a great deal of grief by falling under the spell of the scoundrel Gerard Jones, but setting herself forever beyond her comfortable and familiar world might not be the best answer. Lady Greentree would be saddened and disappointed when she discovered Marietta’s ambitions—as liberal as that lady was, Aphrodite could not imagine her applauding her daughter’s choice of profession. Still, if Marietta truly wanted to be a courtesan, then what could Aphrodite do but help her to achieve her aim?

Aphrodite smiled again and tapped her finger against her cheek. Well, she could see that Marietta found such a life not to her taste after all. There were alternatives to saying no, which had been Aphrodite’s first response, and as she was very much aware that Marietta was not a girl to give up easily, she had not wanted her daughter to feel desperate. Who knew what she might do, if she were
pushed into a corner? Better if she believed that Aphrodite was helping her, as she was, just not in the manner Marietta was expecting.

“What amuses you?”

“My daughter, Jemmy. She’s very clever, don’t you think?”

“She’s a minx, my love.”

Aphrodite brushed his rough cheek with her fingertip. “I was a minx, too, and it did not harm me.”

“It caused us both a lot of grief.”

Her breath caught. “Oh Jemmy, I wish—”

But Jemmy Dobson hushed her and took her in his arms. “I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories. Go and see your grandson. I’ll watch the club for you, and keep an eye on your minx of a daughter.”

Aphrodite buried her face in his coat. “She wants to be a courtesan,” she sighed.

Dobson chuckled in surprise. “Does she now? Well, she’s your daughter, isn’t she? She’ll follow her own head and her own heart. Just keep her out of too much trouble, my love, and all will be well. It was with Vivianna.”

“Yes, you’re right. Vivianna turned out well.” Aphrodite nodded, and drew away to put the finishing touches to her outfit. “There, what do you think? Will I bring shame upon the house of Montegomery?”

Jemmy smiled, his hard gray eyes full of love. “You are a jewel, Aphrodite, beyond price.”

It was close to dawn when Max woke at last. Marietta, who had been dozing off and on as she kept watch from her chair, heard him murmuring, and the swish and slide of the bedclothes as he moved restlessly beneath them.

She jumped up, her legs leaden with weariness, her head dizzy, and stumbled to the side of the bed.

He was shifting about but in an aimless sort of way, as if he didn’t know where he was. Marietta put a hand on his shoulder and felt hot, bare skin. “Hush,” she said gently, leaning closer. “You’re safe, Max. You were hurt, but you’re safe now.”

The sound of her voice seemed to agitate him more and he tried to sit up. The quilt slipped to his waist, and Marietta saw that he was indeed naked. Broad chested, his tawny skin dusted with dark hair, his stomach flat and hard. She pressed her palms against his shoulders to try and push him back down again, but the feel of him, the heat of him, confused her. Even as her voice murmured reassurance, her mind was focused on something else.

For instance, that he looked and felt so completely different from her, and those differences were fascinating. He had flat aureoles, slightly darker than his chest, and when she accidentally brushed over them his nipples turned tighter and harder. She wanted to do it again. She wanted to lean down and put her mouth to his skin and see what it tasted like. The unfamiliar thoughts shocked her into the realization that once again she was allowing the courtesan to overpower the nurse.

“Please, Max. Back to bed,” she begged, as much for her own sake as his.

But she wasn’t strong enough to force Max back into the bed, and neither was he paying attention to her coaxing. Now he swung one leg over the side of the mattress, taking her by surprise. Marietta’s eyes widened as they traveled the length of that bare leg,
hard with muscle. Luckily the bedclothes had tangled around his hips, otherwise Marietta would have seen far more of Max than he would want her to, she was sure. Although, she thought, as she continued to struggle with him, it wouldn’t be long before the covers were tugged free. Her gaze skittered away from the dark hair low on his belly.

“Max!” Her voice high and panicked. “Stop it right now!”

He seemed to hear her at last. He stopped pushing against her and his brown eyes opened and fixed on hers. His hair was standing on end, and he looked rumpled and flushed. And Marietta’s stomach fluttered in a way it never had before. Nerves, or was it…could it be the desire that Aphrodite was just speaking about?

“Wha’?” He blinked at her. “’Etta?”

“Yes, it’s Marietta,” she said it as if she were in charge of the situation. “Now go back to bed. You’re tired and you need your rest. You can’t possibly get up yet. Back to bed, Max, and back to sleep.”

He stared at her for a while—as though it took that long for her words to find their way down a long tunnel and into his brain—and then, abruptly, he lay down.

There was only one problem.

Max’s leg was still hanging outside the bedclothes. With a groan, Marietta wrapped her hands around his knee, struggling to lift his leg. She tugged but could barely move it. She reached down to his foot and pulled at that, but he simply arched his toes, as though they were ticklish. The sound of the bed creaking made her look up to find his brown eyes
only inches from her own. Max had raised his head from the pillows, and he was clearly puzzled by her actions.

“Miss Greentree? What
are
you doing?” he said, surprisingly lucid.

Marietta released his foot and jumped back as if she had been bitten. “You were restless. I was trying to…to…”

“You were playing with my toes.” Giving her one of his haughtiest frowns, Max proceeded to draw his leg modestly under the bedclothes. Then his head fell back against the pillows, his eyes shut, and the frown turned into a grimace.

Tentatively Marietta reached out and pulled the covering up over his chest—removing temptation—and tucked him in securely. But he wasn’t asleep.

“Water,” he whispered.

She reached for the jug the servant had brought last night, and poured some water into a glass. She supported his head against her shoulder, aware of the heat of his skin even through her layers of clothing. She held the glass to his lips, carefully tipping a little at a time between them. Max swallowed greedily, but after a moment he seemed to have had enough, and turned his face away. Gently she lowered him back onto the pillows, and smoothed his wild curls.