Lord Astor sat up on the side of the bed and put his head in his hands. “Not today, Ginny,” he said at last. “It is not your fault. I am just not in the mood.”
“Are you ill?” she asked, her own voice still heavy with desire. She sat up behind him and put her arms around his naked shoulders and chest. “What is it, Geoffrey? Come and lie down beside me and I will make you feel better.” She began to nuzzle his earlobe.
He shook her off none too gently. “Not today, I said, Ginny,” he repeated, getting to his feet and reaching for his clothes.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “I have never failed to arouse you before. There is no one else, is there?”
“I have told you,” he said, “that it is not your fault. It is me. I think perhaps you would be happier with another protector. I know of several men who would kill for you, Gin. Let me give you the house and arrange for a settlement on you. It will be best.” He pushed his shirt inside his pantaloons and buttoned them up.
“What!” She was out of the bed and standing before him, unselfconsciously naked. “You are turning me off, Geoffrey? For failing to arouse you? It is her, is it not? What power does she have over you and those other men who hang about her? I wish I knew her secret. She is not beautiful. She does not have a good figure. She is a mere dab of a thing. Yet you give me up for her, when you could have us both? She will never satisfy you, you know.”
“She is my wife,” he said, tying his cravat with impatient fingers.
She laughed. “And since when has that relationship ever guaranteed a man satisfaction?” she said. “You do not have atendrefor her, do you, Geoffrey? You are not in love with her?”
He pulled on his Hessian boots. “She is my wife,” he said.
Ginny threw back her head and laughed. “Lord Astor is in love with his child bride,” she said. “How famous! And the child has discovered that men may be enticed and is beginning to enjoy the feeling of power. And Lord Astor is jealous. How delicious! I shall make you the laughingstock, Geoffrey.”
He drew on his coat. “I shall send my man of business to settle with you, Ginny,” he said.
“Is he handsome, Geoffrey?” she asked. “And is he in love with Lady Astor also? Has she rendered him impotent too?”
Lord Astor closed the door of her bedchamber behind him.
Chapter 14
ARABELLA arrived home from her walk with George two mornings later to find Lord Astor still in the breakfast room. She would have retreated if she could. She found being in his company difficult at the best of times. It was almost insupportable when there was no one else present. However, he rose to his feet, smiling, when he saw her, and held out a package to her.
“This will please you, Arabella,” he said.
At first she thought it was a letter from home, but when she took the envelope and drew out the cards, she knew immediately what they were.
“Vouchers for Almack’s!” she said. “Aunt Hermione really has been busy on our behalf. Frances will be very excited. I should go and tell her immediately.”
“Is it not a few hours too early to waken Sleeping Beauty?” he asked. “Sit down and have your breakfast, Arabella.”
“The next ball at Almack’s is only two evenings away,” Arabella said, nodding to the butler to put a muffin on her plate and taking her place reluctantly at the breakfast table.
Lord Astor indicated to the servant that he could leave. “I shall accompany you myself,” he said. “Your first visit to Almack’s is too grand an occasion for you to go alone or with only my aunt for company. Will you wear your blue silk, Arabella?”
“If you wish it, my lord,” she said primly.
“Yes, I do wish it,” he said. “I have noticed in the last few days that you are looking thin and almost ill. It is not my imagination, is it?”
“I am quite well, I thank you, my lord,” Arabella said. “I do believe I am slimmer than I was a month ago.”
“Slimmer?” he said. “I would say ‘thinner.’ Am I responsible, Arabella? Is this what unhappiness and disillusionment are doing to you?”
“You need take no blame, my lord,” she said, looking coolly up into his face. “I have been deliberately losing weight so that I might look less childish. I wish to look more like a woman. I can do nothing about my height, but I can control my weight.”
“That is strange,” he said, leaning back in his chair and looking thoughtfully at her. “Yes, when I first knew you, Arabella, I thought you younger than your years. But not since we have been married. You had a pretty figure. Very feminine. And certainly not fat. Nowhere near, in fact. I liked you better as you were. I take it that you do like ices and butter and apple tart?”
Arabella concentrated her attention on her muffin.
“Will you put the weight back on again?” he asked. “I was about to add ‘for me.’ But that would be no inducement, would it? And even a request you will interpret as a command and obey because you are determined to be a dutiful wife. Will you accept my advice, then, Arabella, as a gentleman who appreciates the female form? You looked prettier as you were.”
“I am not pretty,” she said, hearing with some dismay the petulance in her voice.
