Read Online This Duchess of Mine by Eloisa James - Free Book Online Page A

humiliation clear. “Apparently he and the woman were together, and then he suddenly left. She stayed a mere day or two longer—”
    â€œAt least they are no longer together!” Jemma exclaimed. “He left her.”
    â€œYes.” Louise’s tone lightened. “The villagers were very clear about that. Henri simply left. He must have been desperate to get away from her; there was some talk that he discarded his clothing in the inn where they were staying, though I don’t hold with that notion. Henri is not the sort to travel without proper accoutrements. I expect he went back to France.”
    She picked up a lemon tart. “I found it hard to believe that he ever left France for this woman, even in the throes of the deep love he felt.” She spat the last sentence.
    â€œWill you follow him across the Channel directly?” Jemma enquired.
    â€œAbsolutely not,” the marquise said. “Can you imagine? He might think that I pursued him to England because of some anxiety about his degenerate activities.” She magnificently ignored the fact that she had followed her husband for just that reason. Instead she gave a careless shrug. “I couldn’t be less concerned about what he does, and he is perfectly aware of that fact. I shall stay here for as long as I please. London is an enchanting place, of course.”
    Jemma translated that statement into a declaration that Louise would stay in London just as long as necessary to assure that her husband dared not question her presence in this country.
    It was time for an insult, one ruthless enough to send Louise directly into a towering fury. Jemma shook open her fan and held it so that it covered the lower part of her face, as if she were preparing to say the unsayable. Fans were so useful to the art of the insult. She pitched her voice low and confidential. “My dear marquise, if you’d ever like some guidance in the matter of husbands, you need not do more than ask.”
    Louise narrowed her eyes. “Advice of what sort, dear duchess?”
    â€œIt’s a mere suggestion,” Jemma said. “But have you considered altering your—” She waved her hand as if she couldn’t even think of the word.
    â€œMy what?”
    â€œWe must be frank between ourselves, must we not?” Jemma said, lowering her fan to chin level tobestow a lavish smile. “I mean, of course, between close friends like ourselves.”
    â€œNaturellement,” the marquise said, every inch of her rigid body showing just how much she disliked frankness.
    â€œYou wear the most sophisticated costumes in the French court. Your ensemble is only equaled by that of Marie Antoinette herself. Your face is always exquisite, your—”
    â€œExactly so.” Coldness sliced through Louise’s words.
    â€œAnd yet.” Jemma sighed. “One cannot ignore the fact that you look…oh just slightly…like a chessboard, dearest marquise. What man wants to sleep with a chessboard? You do not dress like a woman who wants to seduce, but like a woman who wants to impress. To be noticed.” Then she added, as a kindly afterthought, “Though you are, of course, a most beautiful woman.”
    Louise appeared to be grinding her teeth.
    â€œMy husband never strays,” Jemma said, closing her fan. “And why is that, Marquise? Why is that?”
    â€œIt certainly isn’t because you yourself have remained chaste,” the marquise said flatly.
    â€œAlas, that is so true,” Jemma said. “So, so, so true. And yet my dearest Elijah never wandered during all the years I lived in France, never even looked at another woman. I wish for nothing more than for you to have the same happiness.” Her smile was guaranteed to scrape the marquise’s nerves like the squeal of rats in an alley. “Dear friends should always look out for each other’s best interests.”
    â€œSo you