“Did Jarvis not tell you that I was dealing with the matter?” Marchmont said.
“Indeed, you are dealing with it splendidly, I see,” said Priscilla.
“Of course Jarvis told her,” Zoe said. “But my sisters will not leave me in peace.” She reverted to Priscilla. “None of you will let me out of the house. Marchmont is too busy with his concubines to take me out.”
“I don’t have any concu—”
“I cannot meet the Queen for a fortnight. Today, all I want is to enjoy his body—but no, you must interfere, even though nobody is here to see what we do.”
“You’re not allowed to enjoy his body!”
“It was only kissing and fondling,” Zoe said.
Only, he thought.
“Only?” said Priscilla. “He’s a man. Did you imagine he’d be content with preliminaries?”
“I know what to do to content him,” Zoe said.
“Heaven help us,” said Priscilla.
Amen, he thought. He looked at Zoe. He could still taste her, and her scent seemed to have entered his skin. Remembering the press of her hand on his swollen cock, he stifled a groan.
She didn’t know how to say no. Neither did he—even when his honor depended on it.
Priscilla’s fit continued. “You are most fortunate I did come,” she said. “The world is more than ready to view Zoe as damaged goods. If anybody else had witnessed this, she would beruined, and you’re the last man on earth who’d be able to restore her reputation then.” She turned toward the maid. “If you utter one syllable of this, you will be turned off without a character.”
“Leave Jarvis alone,” Zoe said. “She is not your maid and she would never do anything to make trouble for me. Give her back her umbrella, in case somebody tries to kill me and she must beat them off.”
“You’re as ridiculous as he is,” said Priscilla. But she returned the umbrella to the maid, who said, “I’ll be on the footpath, miss, if you need me,” and moved out of hearing range.
Priscilla wasn’t done with them yet. “If anyone gets an inkling of what happened here today—”
“Enough,” said Marchmont. “I’ll marry her.”
Zoe stared at him.
“You weren’t taught how to say no,” he said. “I’ve never had to.”
She remembered the taste of his mouth and the wicked game his tongue had played with hers and the fire his hands had made on her body. She remembered the possessive way he’d squeezed her breast. She remembered her hand upon the front of his breeches and the heat and size of his arousal.
That was wonderful.
But she remembered, too, the way he’d ordered her about and showed no regard for her feelings. She remembered Lady Tarling.
He would never be a faithful husband, not even a loving one. He would never give his heart fully. He would engage his wife’s heart, then he’d grow bored and abandon her. That wasn’t the kind of marriage Zoe wanted. She wasn’t that desperate. If she had to, she’d run away to Venice or Paris. If she did wed, she must have a marriage like her parents’. After twelve years in the harem, she would settle for nothing less.
Her problem was simple enough: She had no perspective. She needed to meet other men.
“I can say no to this,” she said. “You’re not thinking clearly, and no wonder. You’ve been aroused and all the blood has gone out of your brain to fill yourmembrum virile. Even I am confused, and I’m a woman and women are not so much ruled by our lust. The trouble is only that Priscilla is making us feel ashamed.”
“Yououghtto feel ashamed,” said Priscilla.
“I don’t,” said Zoe. She shrugged. “He is very beautiful and desirable, and hismembrum virilegrows hard so easily. I scarcely have to touch him. And what other men do I see?”
“Thank you,” he said. “I think.”
“Marchmont, you said you would see this through,” Zoe said. “You said it wasn’t necessary for us to wed. I believe you. Itrustyou.”
