The Wyndham Legacy (Legacy 1)

“I see. Didn’t you even remark her abundant bosom and make a comparison to yourself?”

She closed her eyes and said, “Yes.”

“But no jealousy. Didn’t it bother you—after all—you are my wife at your own behest, that I have suckled Lisette’s magnificent breasts? That her body gives me immense pleasure? It didn’t bother you at all? You are silent again. Your nobility is beyond anything that I would ever have expected, beyond anything I ever wanted. I suppose you paid for her new apartment?”

“Yes. It is at Number Forty-seven Rue Royale.”

“Thank you, Duchess. Now, it is too late to visit her tonight so I will take myself back to bed. Good night, Duchess. Thank you for an enlightening episode.”

“It was enlightening,” she said. He didn’t turn. She watched him stride naked from her bedchamber. She saw the anger radiating from him. There was nothing specific to point to. It was something she simply felt. She’d always felt him—when he was joyful as only a boy of fourteen could be, when he was dashed down, again, as only a boy of fourteen could be, beginning when she was nine years old, the first time she’d met him, but she wouldn’t think about that because it wasn’t important now. She’d won, for he’d breached her maidenhead. He’d consummated the marriage. He was safe, finally, despite his rage, he was safe. She wondered if he truly wouldn’t have considered an annulment. He was probably lying to himself when he said he wouldn’t have.

It was Badger who awoke her the following morning, not Maggie. He had a tray on his arm. He handed her the wrinkled nightgown from the floor, then turned his back while she pulled it over her head and smoothed it down. She allowed him to assist her into her dressing gown, then drank down the thick black coffee. He said nothing until she had taken two bites from the warm brioche.

“Do you not wish some butter and honey?”

She shook her head. “No, this is fine, Badger. The brioche are wonderful. Did you bake them?”

Badger waved away her words. “His lordship is gone. Mr. Spears said the earl was pulling on his boots when he went in to wake him. Mr. Spears said he was very quiet, not overtly angry that he could see, just very quiet. Mr. Spears, naturally, could

n’t question him. He did ask him when he would return and his lordship said, ‘Ah, I live here now, Spears, don’t you know? But I—’ ” Badger folded his lips into a thin straight line.

“Please, Badger, tell me the rest of it. Nothing he would say could possibly surprise me. Please understand, I am quite used to Marcus’s rages and his insults.”

“He said that he now knew where you’d sent Lisette and he would doubtless spend a good deal of time with her.”

She took another bite of brioche.

“Shall I send you Maggie? I heard her humming when I passed her door. Her hair is redder this morning, if such a thing is possible. She is a piece of work, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” she said. “She makes me smile. Ah, Badger, please inform her that the three of us will be leaving for Calais by noon, no later.”

He stared at her, opened his mouth, then closed it. He said ten minutes later to Spears, Maggie beside him, “It’s over. Your master and my mistress have bungled it royally. We’re returning to London. I will send you our address when we arrive.”

“You won’t stay at the Wyndham townhouse?”

Badger shrugged. “I have no idea, Mr. Spears. She won’t tell me anything. But I think we will. She let the lease go on Pipwell Cottage in Smarden. I can’t see her traveling to Chase Park, not now in any case.”

“Thank God for that,” Maggie said fervently.

He grinned down at her. “You’ll like the townhouse. It’s in the middle of everything that is exciting and fun. I’ll have to assign you a footman to keep all the young bucks away.”

“I surely hope so, Mr. Badger,” she said, all demure as a nun, and winking at Spears. “But perhaps you shouldn’t act so hastily—with the footman and all.”

However, Spears didn’t see her wink, which was just as well since he was looking austere as a hanging judge. “I will correspond to you as well, Mr. Badger, as soon as I understand what is happening here.”

“His lordship is a bleater, Mr. Spears.”

“Yes, Maggie, it would appear so, at least for the moment. I will take care of him and we will see. Good journey to you, Mr. Badger, Miss Maggie. Mr. Badger, I look forward to your veal and bacon terrine.”

“And what will you look forward to with me, Mr. Spears?”

“Why, your pert rejoinders, Miss Maggie, what else?”

“How unoffensive of you, Mr. Spears.”

12

LONDON