Part 45 (1/2)
”But Your Grace,” protested Albani, still looking longingly at the diamond plume, even now unable to accept that he'd failed. ”If your wife-”
”No more, signor,” said Edward firmly. ”No more. Now you'll excuse us, signor, but I'd prefer being with my wife alone. Isn't that so, my love?”
”Veramente,” she said softly as they turned away. ”Do you know that is what Lady Hamilton told me? Not the part about Hades, but the rest. That once I'd find my true love, I'd be willing to risk everything else to be with him. And I will, Edward. That is, I do.”
”And so do I, my brave little nymph.” He took the diamond plume and pinned it to the front of her gown. ”I believe that Lady Hamilton is the wisest of women and a deuced fine matchmaker, too, to realize how exceptionally well we'd suit.”
She grinned shyly, aware that here in the middle of the Westminster Bridge, her husband was regarding her with the same wicked intent as the centaur had the nymph in her drawing. ”But we will be a most uncommon duke and d.u.c.h.ess, caro mio. I don't believe we could be any other kind.”
”Ah, Francesca,” he said as he bent to kiss her. ”I wouldn't want it any other way.”
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The Very Comely Countess
MIRANDA JARRETT.
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London May 1799
The Duke of Harborough's carriage lurched to a rumbling start, or at least as much of a start as any vehicle could make for itself so close to Whitehall in the middle of the day. The iron-bound wheels sc.r.a.ped over the cobblestones and the springs sawed back and forth with a queasy rhythm as the driver tried to make his way through the carts and chaises and wagons, porters and sailors and apprentices and idlers, that always crowded the streets near the Thames. The sun was too bright and the river too rank, and, with a groan, William, the present Earl of Bonnington, sank back against the leather squabs and pulled his hat lower over his eyes, trying to keep out every last ray of the infernal suns.h.i.+ne that was making his head ache even more.
”Will you tell me now what ails you, Bonnington?” asked Edward, the seventh Duke of Harborough, Earl of Heythrop, Baron Tyne, and a gentleman who, unlike William, never s.h.i.+ed from the midday sun. ”Aside from your usual depravities, that is.”
”I would not dream of keeping anything a secret from you, you insufferably cheerful b.a.s.t.a.r.d,” said William, without raising his hat from his eyes. ”What ails me is simple, and not in the least depraved. I am in great need of a new woman.”
Edward chuckled, more amused than a true friend had any right to be. ”Having finally wearied of Emily, you are in the market for her replacement?”
”I did not 'weary' of Emily,” said William. Emily had been his last mistress, a luscious little dancer he'd set up in keeping for nearly two years, until her avarice had finally counterbalanced her uninhibited imagination and abilities, and with a parting gift of rubies, William sent her on to an older marquis. ”One was wearied by Emily, but never of her. It is Jenny I must replace.”
”Ah.” Instantly Edward sobered. ”Jenny.”
”Yes, Jenny.” William pushed his hat back from his face; there'd be no hiding in any discussion of Jenny Colton. ”Have you any notion of how close she came to getting us both captured?”
Uneasily Edward nodded. Jenny had been his idea, and now she'd be his fault as well. ”I'd some idea of the problems, aye. Your report made it clear enough that the arrangements had not gone, ah, exactly as planned.”
” 'Exactly,' h.e.l.l,” said William with disgust. He hadn't wanted to mention this in the Admiralty Office, not knowing who might be listening even there, but here now in Edward's carriage he had no such qualms. ”She decided she was far too intelligent to follow orders, and began plotting and playing games she'd no notion how to finish. If we hadn't been able to clear the French coast three nights ago, then Robitaille and his men would have swept us up for certain.”
There wasn't much cheerfulness to be found in Edward's face now. ”Where is she at present?”
”Back in the theater at Bristol,” said William, ”where I fervently hope she remains for the rest of her mortal days, or at least for mine. I've no great desire to explore French republicanism through the wonders of the guillotine on account of some third-rate actress.”
He could make light of it now, but the Fancy had barely slipped beneath the French guns and into the safety of a dense fog. It had been close, d.a.m.ned close. No wonder his head ached.
Edward frowned, restlessly tapping his fingers on his knee. When he'd given up active duty to a.s.sume his t.i.tle, he'd also given up wearing his gold-laced captain's uniform except for dress, but the years he'd spent in the navy still showed as much in the formal, straight-backed way he carried himself as it did in his sun-browned, weather-beaten face. He didn't look like any of his fellow peers in the House of Lords, and his experience was beyond theirs, too, having served with honor at the Battle of the Nile with Admiral Lord Nelson.