Since none of the house steward candidates satisfied them, the position remained unfilled for the time being. The household operated relatively smoothly in spite of the vacancy. Not as smoothly as it had under Harrison’s despotic reign, but nothing like the chaos Marchmont had dreaded. He’d imagined servants pestering him constantly, asking questions he didn’t know the answers to.
Evidently, they pestered Thomas and Osgood instead.
With their world restored to something like order, the duke and duchess were preparing to go out to a rout when Marchmont received a message from Bow Street: Mrs. Dunstan had been caught and was in custody.
Ten minutes later
Being well aware that Marchmont was protective to an extreme, Zoe wasn’t at all surprised when he told her she was not going with him.
She had no objection to being protected by a big, strong man when the occasion called for it. A woman in jail, however, could do her no harm. There was no rational reason for him to leave Zoe behind—and she had no intention of encouraging him to be irrational.
“There’s no need for you to upset yourself,” he said as she followed him into his dressing room.
“I will not interfere,” she said. “This is your business. I only want to hear what she has to say.”
“I’ll tell you what she has to say.”
“I want to see her face.”
“I’ll describe it.”
She shooed away Ebdon, his new valet.
“I don’t want to be kept in a cocoon,” she said when she and Marchmont were alone.
“With any luck, I’ll be back in plenty of time to dress for the rout. There’s nothing cocoon-like about going to a rout. You’ll be surrounded by people. You’ll have no protection from their elbows and feet and perfumes or lack of bathing.”
“If I’m present, the housekeeper might be more forthcoming,” she said. She advanced to help him out of his coat. “She might say more than she would when only men are present.”
“I don’t deny you might be helpful,” he said. “You were immensely helpful in hiring new servants. You were especially helpful in finding me a valet who doesn’t cry and faint. He is shockingly calm. I am not sure he breathes.”
“Only in the discreetest way,” said Zoe.
“He doesn’t blink, certainly. But a valet is one thing and a lot of constables and lawbreakers is quite another. The Bow Street magistrate’s house is no place for a lady.”
“I know,” she said. “The place will be filled with drunkards and prostitutes and pimps and thieves and murderers. Just like Yusri Pasha’s palace. Sometimes they made us watch when others were punished. I saw them strangle a slave girl, and I’ve seen slaves whipped many times. I know how they make a eunuch. What do you think I’ll see at Bow Street to shock me?”
“That isn’t the point,” he said. “Merely because you once lived among unspeakable people doing unspeakable things doesn’t make it right for you to spend your time among the dregs of London. The point is, you’re the Duchess of Marchmont, and she doesn’t frequent low places.”
Having peeled off the snug coat, she started unbuttoning his waistcoat.
“You’re the Duke of Marchmont, and you mean to frequent this place,” she said.
“I’m a man.”
Oh,I know, she thought. The waistcoat undone, she let her hand stray over the front of his shirt. “A big, powerful man,” she said. “With big hard muscles and a godlike instrument of delight.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he said.
“I’ll be safe with you,” she said. “Who would dare to trouble me when you’re by my side? Even at Almack’s, everyone was amiable to me for your sake.” She let her hand slide over his muscled chest. She felt the heat begin, low in her belly, the snake of desire stirring.
“No time for that,” he said gruffly. As her hand slid downward, he gently lifted it away. “Everyone was amiable for your sake, Zoe, not mine. Because you’re pretty and amusing—and because they were worried that if they weren’t amiable, you’d hit them with that great diamond of yours and break their skulls.”
She smiled up at him. If he was making a joke, he was calming, and he would take her with him.
“I see what will happen,” he said. “You’ll fondle and flatter and smile me into it. I might as well admit defeat, instead of wasting time fighting you. But you’d better run along—and dress quickly, because I will not wait one extra minute for you.”
She reached up and grabbed his neckcloth, and pulled his face toward hers and kissed him hard. He was turning into a far better husband than she’d dared to hope for. He was not the shallow, capricious man she’d believed him to be. He was truly kind and truly caring…and she was afraid she was falling quite hopelessly in love with him.
