Blessedly, the remainder of her sentence was cut off by a sudden rustling at the back of the box, followed by a stream of servers bearing nothing less than a feast—a whole roast chicken, a dish of Vauxhall’s famous sliced ham, dishes of beef, bread, butter, cheese, salad, a platter of lemons and oranges, tarts, custards, a Shrewsbury cake, another quart of arrack-punch, burgundy wine, champagne, old hock, and several pounds of ice. It was a spread fit for a king, except the excess and extravagance might make even Prinny blush.
As each new dish arrived, Hortense appeared ever more impressed by the duke, her eyes wide and appreciative. She’d turned into a vacuous, little coquette, one precisely calibrated to please Rothesbury’s vanity. The way she was gazing upon the duke…how could he possibly resist her?
Standing behind her, Jamie leaned down, unable not to catch a quick sip of her clean, lemon scent. “Would you like me to make a plate for you, wife?” He couldn’t seem to stop calling herwife.
She twisted around and stared up at him, mischief twinkling in her gaze. Whatever she was about to say, he wouldn’t like it, he felt it in his bones. “What an attentive, little husband you are.”
Shocked titters sounded around the box as Rothesbury roared with laughter. Jamie’s jaw might never regain the ability to unclench.
Little?
Last night had showed her there was nothinglittleabout him. He would be only too willing to prove it again.
“Our host has such discerning taste that I think he could find what would best satisfy me.”
If Rothesbury had been a peacock, his tail feathers would have sprung into full fan.
And all Jamie could do was tense his jaw and stew and settle back as his wife made him a cuckold and a fool.
Chapter Twenty-One
Oh, Jamie hadcaught thatlittlecrack.
And he didn’t like it one bit.
Hortense shrugged off his glower. This was the operation, and it was running as smoothly as an operation possibly could. Vain, self-absorbed men were the easiest marks. Truly, the only difficulty was her husband.
Now, time to have a stab at the heart of the matter. She gazed into Rothesbury’s soulless eyes. “My family lost all their jewels during the Revolution.”
“A tragedy.” He took her hands in his clammy ones, offering hollow comfort. She stopped herself from snatching them back. “A woman like you should be dripping in jewels.”
“Yet, as you can see”—a mean smile played about her mouth—“my new husband does not share your point of view.” She held up her left hand. “Only this single jewel adorns my body.” She said it dismissively, like one would need a magnifying glass to see the sapphire, when she was fairly certain Mariana had been correct in her observation about the stone. Indeed, one could likely view it from the moon.
Meanwhile, behind her, she sensed her husband seething.
“Clare,” Rothesbury threw over his shoulder, “don’t you know anything of women? Or how to keep them?”
“I don’t have to keep her.” The menace in Jamie’s voice was unmistakable. “She’s my wife.”
Rothesbury scoffed. “You have a lot to learn, and I have a feeling this wife of yours will teach you. Although, who wouldn’t wish to learn at her feet?”
“Oh, it isn’t at my feet where he will learn his best lessons, but rather higher up my person,” Hortense quipped, eliciting delighted gasps from the other ladies.
Rothesbury only smiled. Even in good humor, the man had the mien of a pit viper. “You are a very naughty thing, aren’t you?”
She shrugged, as if suddenly bored. Drawing back served to work up the duke more. A giggle, then a slap. That was how he liked it. He wanted her to be easy, but not too easy. An achievable challenge.
She leaned in and jerked her chin toward Lady Selborne. “Do all your mistresses have access to your jewel vaults?”
Rothesbury inched closer. The sickly sour-sweet smell of arrack drifted on his breath. “Of course.”
She lowered her voice to an excited whisper. “Without limits?”
Half a smile tugged about his mouth. He had her, that half smile told her. How she wished she could tell him differently. “That is dependent on a few factors.”
“Like?” she asked, oh-so-breathless.
“What access she offers me.”
