Read Online Legendary Lover by Susan Johnson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Johnson
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Venus's hand. "Come now, we'll have Will drive us back."
AT GROVELAND HOUSE , THE DUCHESS OFFERED
Venus a sunny lady's chamber adorned in aquamarine damask and pale Empire furniture in which to refresh herself , suggesting they meet in the garden in ten minutes.
Which gave her only a few moments to send a note to Jack.
As Lady Groveland dashed off her message requesting his presence for tea, she ignored high-minded principles in the interests of matters of the heart. Call it kismet or sorcery, she'd recognized an affinity between her profligate godson and the extraordinary Miss Duras and she intended to meddle. So she lied without a qualm, asking Jack to stop by briefly to help her decide on a bequest for her grandchildren. The marquis served as her surrogate advisor in business matters when her son was absent.
"Find him, wherever he is," she ordered her footman, standing beside her at the ready. "Check Mme. Robuchon's first if he's not at home. Lucy's is his favorite afternoon retreat."
The duchess well understood the ways of a fashionable buck. Her husband had lived a bachelor life for two decades before they'd met; her son had followed his father's pattern. She knew how wealthy young men spent their leisure time. She also kept abreast of all the gossip through her lady's maid, Molly, who could tell you by noon each day who had had breakfast with whom.
The duchess gave instructions to her maid, her confidante in all things. "The minute Jack arrives, have him brought to the garden."
"He's going to be right furious with you, my lady," Molly warned, her eyes wide with alarm.
"Not in front of Miss Duras , he won't be."
"Sure enough, he might," the maid disagreed. "You know his temper."
"I also know he was melancholy last night when Miss Duras left, whether he cared to admit it or not. Why shouldn't I give him a nudge in the right direction?"
"You're ever so brave, my lady," Molly declared. "Melancholy or not, the marquis is frightfully hot-tempered."
"I've known him since he was a suckling babe," the duchess observed, tucking a hennaed curl into place. "I can handle him. You just see that he comes into the garden. And then after a decent interval, call me in with a message. Now, not a word from anyone that Miss Duras is visiting when he arrives."
"My lips are sealed, my lady."
"See that the rest of the staffs are as well."
And so saying, the duchess twitched her skirt into place and sailed from the room with the stage presence of an accomplished actress.
THE GARDEN WAS PEACEFUL AND SERENE,
tucked away behind serpentine brick walls covered with cascading roses. A spreading magnolia planted by some long-ago Groveland shaded one corner where a tea table had been arranged.
Venus was lounging on a silk-cushioned chaise, the cream tussah a perfect foil for her golden beauty and fern-green muslin gown. She waved at the sight of the duchess descending the terrace steps, and Peggy cheerfully waved back.
"I told Oliver we deserved our best champagne after all our hard work this afternoon," the duchess said as she approached.
"I've already been served." Venus held her half-empty glass up for her hostess to see. "Your butler insisted I try the lemon-curd tarts too. You see," she went on, indicating the depleted plate, "I took him up on the offer."
"Tell me what I can do to help tomorrow," Peggy declared, pouring herself a glass of champagne. "I haven't had so much fun in ages. Perhaps you could instruct me concerning some purchases for my own charity hospital."
"I'd be delighted. 1 plan to return to the Exhibition tomorrow for my next round of purchases."
"Capital! Let me replenish your wineglass." The duchess had deliberately chosen to have their tea without servants in attendance. She had every confidence the marquis would be found, and she wished no spectators when he appeared.
The ladies had finished one bottle of champagne, the lemon-curd tarts, and half
AT GROVELAND HOUSE , THE DUCHESS OFFERED
Venus a sunny lady's chamber adorned in aquamarine damask and pale Empire furniture in which to refresh herself , suggesting they meet in the garden in ten minutes.
Which gave her only a few moments to send a note to Jack.
As Lady Groveland dashed off her message requesting his presence for tea, she ignored high-minded principles in the interests of matters of the heart. Call it kismet or sorcery, she'd recognized an affinity between her profligate godson and the extraordinary Miss Duras and she intended to meddle. So she lied without a qualm, asking Jack to stop by briefly to help her decide on a bequest for her grandchildren. The marquis served as her surrogate advisor in business matters when her son was absent.
"Find him, wherever he is," she ordered her footman, standing beside her at the ready. "Check Mme. Robuchon's first if he's not at home. Lucy's is his favorite afternoon retreat."
The duchess well understood the ways of a fashionable buck. Her husband had lived a bachelor life for two decades before they'd met; her son had followed his father's pattern. She knew how wealthy young men spent their leisure time. She also kept abreast of all the gossip through her lady's maid, Molly, who could tell you by noon each day who had had breakfast with whom.
The duchess gave instructions to her maid, her confidante in all things. "The minute Jack arrives, have him brought to the garden."
"He's going to be right furious with you, my lady," Molly warned, her eyes wide with alarm.
"Not in front of Miss Duras , he won't be."
"Sure enough, he might," the maid disagreed. "You know his temper."
"I also know he was melancholy last night when Miss Duras left, whether he cared to admit it or not. Why shouldn't I give him a nudge in the right direction?"
"You're ever so brave, my lady," Molly declared. "Melancholy or not, the marquis is frightfully hot-tempered."
"I've known him since he was a suckling babe," the duchess observed, tucking a hennaed curl into place. "I can handle him. You just see that he comes into the garden. And then after a decent interval, call me in with a message. Now, not a word from anyone that Miss Duras is visiting when he arrives."
"My lips are sealed, my lady."
"See that the rest of the staffs are as well."
And so saying, the duchess twitched her skirt into place and sailed from the room with the stage presence of an accomplished actress.
THE GARDEN WAS PEACEFUL AND SERENE,
tucked away behind serpentine brick walls covered with cascading roses. A spreading magnolia planted by some long-ago Groveland shaded one corner where a tea table had been arranged.
Venus was lounging on a silk-cushioned chaise, the cream tussah a perfect foil for her golden beauty and fern-green muslin gown. She waved at the sight of the duchess descending the terrace steps, and Peggy cheerfully waved back.
"I told Oliver we deserved our best champagne after all our hard work this afternoon," the duchess said as she approached.
"I've already been served." Venus held her half-empty glass up for her hostess to see. "Your butler insisted I try the lemon-curd tarts too. You see," she went on, indicating the depleted plate, "I took him up on the offer."
"Tell me what I can do to help tomorrow," Peggy declared, pouring herself a glass of champagne. "I haven't had so much fun in ages. Perhaps you could instruct me concerning some purchases for my own charity hospital."
"I'd be delighted. 1 plan to return to the Exhibition tomorrow for my next round of purchases."
"Capital! Let me replenish your wineglass." The duchess had deliberately chosen to have their tea without servants in attendance. She had every confidence the marquis would be found, and she wished no spectators when he appeared.
The ladies had finished one bottle of champagne, the lemon-curd tarts, and half