The Pursuit of Pleasure (39 page)

“But you didn’t.” Was it hope that made her voice thready?

“I did once. An error I do not plan on ever repeating.”

She felt a small wave of relief. But they still had, as Jamie had said, unfinished business between them. “What do you plan on doing? Now that you’ve solved this?”

“Well, strictly speaking, I did not solve this—you did. But with your permission, I should like to get credit for it with the Admiralty anyway.”

“I’ve no particular regard for the Admiralty, so you must get most of the credit, though you must say extremely flattering things about my help.”

“Thank you. And will you be my wife?”

“Is that another proposal? I have one of my own this time. Are you going to be my husband?”

“If you’ll let me, Lizzie.”

And of a moment, she could no longer joke. “Why should I let you? I’m still not sure I can trust you.”

“Because I love you.”

“You lied to me. You used me. You left me in prison. And you said it might happen again.”

“I’m sorry. Deeply sorry. When this whole scheme began I… I just didn’t plan on falling in love with you. And I know you had no intention of falling in love with me. But it happened. I did fall in love with you and I do love you. And I think perhaps you love me, at least a little bit. Or else you wouldn’t be so angry. The opposite of love is indifference, and you’re still mostly furious at me. And I know I’d have liked to throttleyou a time or two, but as it happens I always find I’d much rather kiss you.”

She scrunched up her face tight and closed. “That’s not love, that’s just lust.”

“Well, it’s a very good place to start. It’s an important part of love.”

“What if… love is not enough?”

“Of course it is. Love is enough. It’s the only thing that matters. If I were to die tomorrow the only thing that would matter in my life is that I loved and was loved. All the medals, accolades, the victories will be nothing if I cannot say that I loved and was loved by an extraordinary young woman. By you, Lizzie.”

“Well. There is that. I’d hate for your life to amount to nothing because of me.”

He looked at her, pressing for the truth with those relentlessly honest gray eyes. The eyes that never let her lie to him and which had never lied to her.

“And you? You never did say, Lizzie.”

“Of course I love you. What do you think I’ve been about?” She flung her arms out in exasperation. “Stupid man.”

“Your stupid man. The man you love.”

“Oh, don’t bother turning your wolf eyes on me. I’ve become immune.”

“Wolf eyes?” He laughed. “But if you’re so immune, why have you got your eyes scrunched up tight?”

She smiled and let her eyebrows arch away, but she kept her eyes closed.

“I’ll tell you what, Lizzie. I promise, if you open your eyes, I’ll make it very much worth your while.”

“Really?” She peeked one open.

“Yes, so open them. There’s a big brawling world out there, Mrs. Marlowe. Didn’t you know?”

She did.

Take your pick of the LORDS OF PASSION,
a steamy anthology featuring Virginia Henley,
Kate Pearce, and Maggie Robinson …

The Hague, Holland
November 28, 1719

“D
amnation, Cadogan, you’ve the devil’s own luck. You’ve won every hand we’ve played for the last sennight.” Charles Lennox, Duke of Richmond, pushed his chair back from the games table and wiped his brow. “Stap me! I’m wiped out—you’ve had the lot!”

General William Cadogan glanced at his darkly handsome opponent. He was the illegitimate son of the late King Charles, who in his old age had impregnated his mistress, Louise de Kerouaille. “Would you like me to tally up, your grace?”

Richmond waved a negligent hand. “By all means, let me know the damage.”

The dashing Irish general didn’t take long. He had a damn good idea of what the duke had wagered and lost in their endless games of
écarté.
The duke was a heavy drinker, which was the main reason for his losses. The general set the seven score-cards down on the table, one for each night they had played. “I tot it up to a little over ten thousand guineas.”

“What?”
Richmond howled. “Are you jesting?” By the benign look on Cadogan’s face, Charles Lennox knew he was serious. He downed the glass of gin sitting before him. “I don’t have it. You’ll have to accept my marker.”

The men sitting at the table, who had been observing their deep play, began to murmur. Richmond flushed darkly. A gentleman always paid his gambling debts. His shrewd mind quickly inventoried his assets. Land was out of the question—the aristocracy accumulated property; it never relinquished it. Besides, the Earl of Cadogan already owned the hundred-acre Caversham estate on the outskirts of Reading.

Horses were the next things Richmond thought of. His family seat, Goodwood, at the foot of the South Downs, had a racing stable of Thoroughbreds. The thought of parting with his horses made him feel physically ill.

He looked across at General Cadogan. “You have a daughter, I believe.”

“I do, your grace. Her name is Sarah.”

“How would you like to make Sarah a countess? My son, the Earl of March, is without a wife.” Lennox believed no man could resist such a magnanimous offer.

But the Earl of Cadogan, who was Marlborough’s top general, and largely responsible for Britain’s victories in the wars of Spanish Succession, was a shrewd negotiator. That was the reason he had been given the diplomatic duties concerned with resettlements among Great Britain, France, Holland, and Spain.

“My daughter, Lady Sarah, has a dowry of ten thousand pounds. If I gave you my daughter and her marriage settlement, I would have to pay you ten thousand instead of
you
paying
me
ten thousand.” He raised his hands in appeal. “It doesn’t fly, your grace.”

“Charles is heir to my dukedom of Richmond and all the estates that encompasses,” Lennox pointed out. “Lady Sarah could become a duchess.”
Surely it’s not necessary to remind you that we have royal blood?

“A marriage between my daughter and your son, and heir, could be the solution.”

Cadogan paused for emphasis. “Without the marriage settlement, of course.”

“Curse you, general. You’re not negotiating with the enemy here!”

“Since we are civilized gentlemen, I propose a compromise, your grace.”

“Let’s split the difference,” Richmond suggested. “Your daughter’s hand in marriage along with a dowry of
five thousand.
“

The other men at the table leaned forward in anticipation of Cadogan’s answer.

“Done!” The general’s reply was heartfelt. He raised his hand to a servant. “Drinks all around. We must toast this historic union.”

The Duke of Richmond raised his glass. “Here’s to you and here’s to me, and if someday we disagree, fuck you, here’s to me!”

All the gentlemen roared with laughter and drained their glasses.

“I shall send for my daughter immediately.”

“And I shall summon my heir,” the duke declared.

“The
Green Lion
is a lovely name for a ship,” Sarah exclaimed as they boarded at the Port of London.

“I only hope our cabin is warm. This is a dreadful season to be crossing to the Netherlands,” Lady Cadogan said with a shiver.

“I’m glad I’m wearing my woolen dress and cloak. This is so exciting!”

The pair was shown below to their cabin, and when their trunk arrived, it took up most of the space between the two bunks.

“Such cramped quarters,” the countess complained. “It’s a good thing we will be arriving before dark tomorrow. But at least the cabin is warm.”

“Oh, I think we are under way.” Sarah grabbed hold of the bunk rail as the vessel swayed. She was bursting with excitement. “May I please go up on deck and watch as the
Green Lion
navigates through the Thames?”

“If you must, Sarah. But when the ship approaches Graves-end, you must come below decks immediately. Daylight will soon be gone, and the wind will be so fierce, it could easily blow you overboard,” her mother cautioned.

The grave warning did not deter Sarah; it made her more eager to go up on deck.

“Thank you, Mother. I’ll be careful.”

Sarah climbed the stairs that led onto the deck and pulled her cloak tightly about her. She watched the docks recede slowly, but soon lost interest in looking back. She much preferred to look ahead and made her way to the very front of the vessel. She stood in wonder as the banks of the river widened. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with sea air, as if the smell of tide wrack were the elixir of life.

She lifted her face to the cold breeze as she heard the gulls and terns screaming overhead.
What an exciting life to be a sailor!
Sarah stood enraptured as the ship reached the estuary and headed out to sea. She became aware that the light was fast fading from the day, and the moment the ship sailed into the North Sea, the wind whipped her cloak about and she remembered that she must go below.

The fierce wind was against her as she lowered her head and began to run. Suddenly she collided with someone, and the impact knocked the breath out of her.

“You clumsy, idiot girl! Watch what you’re about, for Christ’s sake.”

Sarah paled as she stared up into the furious face of a young man. “I’m … I’m sorry, sir,” she gasped.

“Sorry, be damned!” He blocked her way. “You haven’t the brains of a bloody baboon, barreling down the deck like a loose cannon.”

“I have to get below—I promised Mother.”

“We all want to get belowdecks to a warm cabin, damn your eyes.”

“You are frightening the girl, Charles. Let her pass,” Henry Grey said quietly.

Charles Lennox grudgingly stepped aside. “The witless girl needed a lesson. I hope you remembered to bring that bottle of rum. It’s colder than a whore’s heart tonight.”

When the Countess of Cadogan and Sarah stepped from their carriage at the Court of Holland, a liveried attendant ushered them inside. Margaret’s father had been Chancellor of the Court before he retired, and the servants showed her great deference.

When they arrived at the suite of rooms that had been assigned to General Cadogan, he flung open the door and welcomed them warmly.

“Margaret, my dear, I hope your voyage wasn’t a rough one.”

“It was tolerable. December is no month to be at sea.”

“It was an absolute necessity, my dear. We couldn’t let an opportunity like this slip away.” He looked at his young daughter and gave her a hug. “Were you seasick?”

“No, Father,” she said breathlessly.

“That’s my girl. Take off your cloak and let’s have a look at you.”

Sarah removed her cloak and bonnet. She smoothed her hands over her flattened hair. “I must look a fright.”

“Nay, child. The wind has put roses in your cheeks.”

Sarah blushed with pleasure at the compliment.

William raised his eyes to his wife. His daughter’s figure was slight and her face extremely pale. “I hope you’ve brought her a decent dress to wear tomorrow.”

“You gave me such short notice, there was no time to have a new gown made. In any case, it’s cold. A woolen dress will suffice.”

“Have you told her?” William asked.

“I thought it best to wait until we arrived. You may have that pleasure, my lord.”

Told me what?
Sarah went very still. She had an ominous feeling that her mother was being sarcastic. She doubted that
pleasure
would be involved. She couldn’t find the words to ask, but the apprehensive look in her eyes questioned her father.

“We’ll wait until after dinner,” he said heartily. “Sarah looks like she could use some food. There’s nothing like a thick broth to warm the cockles of your heart. After dinner, Sarah and I will have a private chat.”

“I’ll go and unpack.” She sensed that her parents had something to discuss that concerned her. Something was in the air, and she took refuge in the short reprieve.

When she lifted the lid of the trunk that had been delivered to the bedchamber, she stroked her hand over the rich material of her mother’s gowns. One was purple velvet, embroidered with gold, and another was black, quilted brocade decorated with crystals.

Sarah carefully lifted them from the trunk and hung them in the wardrobe, along with two other day dresses and the lovely whalebone panniers that went beneath. Her own clothes had been packed on the bottom, and as a result were slightly creased. As well as flannel petticoats and knitted stockings, she had brought only two dresses. One was oyster-colored wool with a cream frill around the high neck, and the other was gray with fitted sleeves that ended in white ruffles around the wrists. She wished that she had panniers to hold out her skirts. They would help disguise how thin she was, but her mother had decreed that she was still too young for grown-up fashions.

Sarah hung her dresses next to her mother’s and sighed with resignation at the contrast between the rich, fashionable gowns and her own plain attire.

Since the hour was late and the ladies had been traveling for the past two days, the trio ate dinner in Cadogan’s suite. Tonight for some reason Sarah’s appetite was nonexistent.

Her mother gave her a critical glance. “You must eat more. You will never fill out if all you do with food is push it about your plate.”

Her father changed the subject. “What are you learning at school?”

“Latin,” she said softly.

“Latin? What the devil good will Latin do you? Surely French would be better for a young lady of fashion.”

I don’t feel like a young lady of fashion. “We say our prayers in Latin.”

“I wager you have some uncharitable names for the nuns.”

Sarah’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “We call them the
Sisters of the Black Plague
.”

Cadogan threw back his head and laughed. It tickled his Irish sense of humor. “By God, I warrant they teach you not to spit in church, and very little else.” He bent close.