“Marietta and I do not agree on everything.”
“How tedious if you d
id.”
“Madame, I am aware that I am not the ideal husband for your daughter, but I do not mean to idle my life away as if I were still heir to my father’s dukedom. I am…liberated,” he smiled, “and I am not afraid to dirty my hands in good honest work. I believe that if I have a wife and family then I will have all the more reason to strive harder.”
“If you were a better catch you probably wouldn’t have given Marietta a second glance, my lord. Would the disgraced daughter of a courtesan be on your list of possible wives if you were still in line to inherit?”
“I don’t know the answer to that question, how can I?” Ah yes, he was honest. “But I do know that now that I have met Marietta no other woman will do.”
Aphrodite was beginning to feel exhausted, but his words were so heartfelt they made her laugh and clap her hands. “Very good, Max! The perfect answer! Tell me, where is my daughter now? Is she waiting out in the hall?”
“I put her to bed, she’s asleep.”
“Mon dieu!” she hissed. Then, reluctantly, “Very well. I will consider your offer. But it is not I you should be trying to persuade—I am already convinced—it is Marietta. There lies your difficulty.”
He looked startled that she was so clearly on his side. “Thank you, Madame. Could I ask one more favor of you? Please don’t tell Marietta that you know I wish to marry her. I think, if she is aware you are amenable to the idea, she will feel as if I have conspired against her and want to run as far away from me as she can.”
“Yes, yes, all right,” Aphrodite answered him impatiently. “I think I know my daughter as well as you, and I will say nothing to her. But be warned, if you hurt her, Max—”
“Believe me, hurting her is the last thing I would ever do.”
Again Aphrodite noted his sincerity and then nodded a dismissal. As Max left the salon, she called Dobson over and told him to follow, as an added precaution, to make certain that this time Max was put into a hansom without incident.
“It has been very good for business that his lordship has returned to the club so soon. It would be very bad, however, if he were to be attacked a second time.”
As she watched Dobson stroll off, she allowed herself a moment alone with her thoughts.
Marietta, Marietta, what am I to do with you?
Max Valland wished to marry her daughter, but he was penniless and he wanted to take her to Cornwall. It seemed extreme, but as long as Marietta was happy about that it wouldn’t matter, although it would be better if she loved him, and he loved her. Having known love herself, Aphrodite wanted her daughter to experience its wonder.
She remembered now the expression in Max’s eyes, something hot and familiar. Perhaps he was in love with her and just didn’t know it yet; he was certainly determined to have his way. But was Marietta as fond of him? She must discover how Marietta felt. A smile played around her mouth—since her daughter had arrived in London, life had certainly become far more interesting.
Marietta was dreaming. She was in the flying carriage pulled by the horses with wings, and they were sailing west, towards Cornwall. Max was beside her, wearing a top hat, and she had a bridal veil. They seemed happy enough, until she noticed there was someone else in the carriage. It was Harold, and just as she recognized him he pulled out a pistol and fired it at Max.
She woke with a start.
Apricot satin hung in folds all about her. When she tried to sit up her body cried out for her to stop, and she gasped. She was aching all over, and there was a tingling, burning sensation between her legs, and she smelled of…
Max.
This time she did sit up despite the pain and looked anxiously around the room. The lamp was still burning low, the fire was crackling, the remains of their meal were scattered about, but the room itself was empty. Her eyes crept to the sofa, but apart from some cushions tossed onto the floor and the creased coverings, there was no sign that she and Max had ever reached those dizzy heights of pleasure together. Twice.
Or was it three times?
Max, the gentleman, had loosened the reins on his control with a vengeance—his horse had well and truly bolted. Marietta smiled and lay against the pillows, stretching carefully, letting her mind travel back through the evening.
Well, she knew all about desire now. Max had shown her things that she had only dreamed of—there was no comparison. Aphrodite had not been exaggerating when she said that he was a man of experience…
Aphrodite!
Marietta sprang out of bed, and then stopped and caught her breath as the muscles in her thighs cramped. She was sore and sticky, and she made her way to the jug and bowl on the dresser and proceeded to clean herself thoroughly. Her trousers were beyond repair and she couldn’t find her blouse, but she still had the robe, and now she slipped it on over her naked body.
She could tell it was very late. How long had she slept? Vivianna knew she was staying with Aphrodite—she had grudgingly agreed to it—so she would not be worried, but Aphrodite would be waiting impatiently to hear how she had got on.
As if her thoughts had conjured her mother, there was a sharp rap on the door, and before Marietta could utter more than a squeak, it opened.