“He could not make hismembrum virilehard,” Zoe said. “He was sickly, you see. He was unable to be a true husband, though he was so fond of me, and I did everything they taught me to awaken a man’s desire.Everything.I even—”
“Zoe,” her father said in a strangled voice, “it is unnecessary to explain in detail.”
“One wishes it were not necessary for her to speak at all,” a sister muttered.
“One wishes the floor would open up and swallow one.”
“We shall never,neverlive this down.”
“Never mind them, Miss Lexham,” said Marchmont. “Please continue. I’m all ears.” He drank some more.
“I shall be an excellent wife to you,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. She told herself that if this didn’t work, she’d go to Paris or Venice as she’d threatened, though those had never been her first choices. She wanted to live in her native land and have the life she’d dreamt of for twelve long years. It looked as though the Duke of Marchmont was her one chance to have that life. He was handsome and young and healthy and not excessively intelligent, and he desired her. He wasperfect.
Fate had thrown him in her way. A gift. All she had to do was hold onto him.
Don’t panic, she counseled herself.You know exactly what to do. You spent twelve years learning it.
“I know all the arts of pleasing a man,” she went on. “I can sing and dance and compose poetry. I learn quickly and will learn how to behave correctly in…in good society…if you will help me, or find me teachers.”
She was not calm enough. Her English was faltering as a consequence, but she plunged on. “I know widows are worthless, but I was never a wife of the body. I remain a virgin, and a virgin is valuable. Too, I have jewels, enough to make as great a dowry as a maiden would have. I shall be a loving mother to your children. All the children of the harem were fond of me. In truth, it made me sad to leave them, and I shall be happy to have children of my own.” She paused and glanced at her sisters. “But not too many.”
“Not too many,” he repeated. He drank some more.
“I know how to arrange a household,” she said. “I know how to manage servants, even eunuchs—and they can be impossible. Their moods are more changeable than a woman’s.”
“Eunuchs. I see.”
“I know how to manage them,” she said. “I was the only one in all the household who could.”
The other two sisters put their heads in their hands. Mama covered her face with her handkerchief.
Marchmont emptied his glass and set it down. His slitted green gaze came back to Zoe. She couldn’t truly see it, so secret he was in the way he used his eyes, but she certainly felt it. His slow, assessing look traveled from the top of her head to her toes, which curled in reaction. All of her body seemed to curl under that gaze, as though she were a serpent stirring, lured out of the darkness into the warmth of the sun. She felt the stirring and curling inside, too, low in her belly.
“That is amosttempting offer,” he said.
The room fell oppressively silent, and it seemed to Marchmont that his voice echoed in it. “To be able to manage eunuchs is a rare accomplishment, indeed.”
The four harridans made no sound. Their youngest sister had succeeded in doing the impossible: She’d rendered them speechless.
“Well?” she said into the lengthening silence.
He poured himself more wine. The effort not to laugh was sure to do him a permanent injury.
He was sure he’d never, in all his life, heard anything so hilarious as Zoe-not Zoe’s marriage proposal or her sisters’ reaction to it.
That alone was worth the thousand pounds he’d lost in the wager. Hell, it was probably worth the price of marriage. He’d be laughing about it for years to come, he didn’t doubt.
But years to come was a very long time, and marrying now would be inconvenient. For appearances’ sake he would be obliged to give up his mistress for a time, and Lady Tarling hadn’t yet begun to bore him.
“It devastates me to decline,” he said, “but it would be grossly unfair to take advantage of you in that way.”
“Does that mean no?” said Zoe. Her soft mouth turned down.
Marchmont eyed her grown-up, delectably curving body. “It is no,” he said, “with thegreatestregret. Were I to consent, I should be marrying you under false pretenses. I can accomplish what you require without your having to shackle yourself to me permanently.”
He knew that without him she had virtually no hope of a welcome in Society. He was the one man in London who could do what she needed done for her—and he owed it to Lexham to do it. Marchmont had not the smallest doubt in his mind about this. No amount of wine could wash that great debt away.
Her frown eased and her expression sharpened. “You can?”
