“Of course.” He followed her back into the salon and they both seated themselves, Gervase stretching his legs out wearily. He’d barely noticed Madeline Gainford when Diana had introduced them, but now he saw that she was very attractive, with the calm expression of one who has seen the best and worst the human race can offer. If he hadn’t just taken another mistress he would have wondered if she was available, but at the moment it was impossible to feel interest in anyone other than Diana.
The wide brown eyes were scrutinizing him with the same thoroughness that he was exercising on her. The staring match might have gone on indefinitely if Gervase weren’t so tired. “At the risk of sounding impatient, what do you wish to discuss? It is rather late for socializing.”
“I am interested in business, not socializing, my lord. Diana told me she refused your offer of a monthly allowance in favor of random gifts.”
“Yes, and what business is it of yours?” he asked, his deep voice balanced on the edge of irritation.
“Diana is my business, Lord St. Aubyn. Since you are willing, I would like to see the arrangement regularized.”
Glancing down, she made a tiny, precise stitch as she prepared to expand on her statement, but Gervase cut her off, his voice rough. “So pimping is your trade, and you wish to extract the last farthing of profit out of her. Very prudent. You’ll not find another wench so valuable anytime soon.”
Her mouth tightened at his words, but her soft voice was level. “You mistake the matter. I wish to speak to you because I love Diana, not because I’m a panderer.”
That was even worse. Gervase knew there were courtesans who preferred their own sex. Some men found the idea exciting, but the thought of Diana and this woman as lovers revolted him. “I see. Rather than trying to extract more money, you want to warn me off because you are jealous.”
Disconcertingly, she laughed. “I express myself poorly. I love Diana as the daughter I never had, as a friend, and as a woman who saved my life in several ways. Not,” she said with a gleam in her dark eyes, “in the fashion you luridly imagine.” She shrugged expressively. “Diana is too inexperienced to know what she is turning down. It’s all very well to be romantic and quixotic when one is young, but twenty years from now she will be glad to have savings to ensure a comfortable old age.”
She set another stitch in her embroidery. “To a courtesan, having ‘money in the Funds’ is rather like the holy grail. I intend to see that Diana earns all the security she can.”
Gervase closed his eyes briefly, wishing this interview was taking place at a time when his brain was in normal working condition. Was she really trying to protect her younger friend, or merely being greedy on her own behalf? Probably the latter, unless Diana had set Madeline to this task.
Opening his eyes, he said, “Every month Diana is my mistress, I’ll have two hundred pounds deposited in an account in her name. You can tell her about it or not, as you choose, but you will not be able to touch a penny yourself. Is that satisfactory?”
He expected anger that the money was out of her reach, but she smiled serenely. “Perfectly satisfactory, my lord. A very gentlemanly thing to do.”
He stood, saying with heavy irony, “Will there be anything else, Miss Gainford?”
“Yes. Please don’t mention this arrangement to Diana.”
His mouth twisted. “Do you really expect me to believe that she doesn’t know what you are doing?”
She gestured gracefully, the candlelight glinting from the needle in her hand. “You should believe it. It’s the truth.”
“Ah, yes,” he said, unable to avoid bitterness as he remembered the innocence on Diana’s sleeping face. Diana, the consummate actress. “Everyone knows how truthful whores are.”
There was some satisfaction in seeing the dull flush on her cheeks, but it was nowhere near strong enough to counter the dark mood that dogged his heels on the walk home.
* * *
The next morning it was easier to accept Diana’s duplicity in having her companion demand more money. Doubtless the viscount’s new mistress had her full female share of volatility and illogic; he supposed that after grandly refusing his offer of a regular allowance, she had changed her mind.
When he joined her for a morning ride the day after, he went prepared. Diana was waiting in her salon and she greeted him with a blithe kiss as the morning sun burnished her chestnut hair. Did she ever look less than ravishing? After bowing over her gloved hand, Gervase handed her a small item of filigreed gold.
Diana studied it in puzzlement, then gave him a smile that began deep in her lapis-blue eyes. “Should I recognize this? Perhaps it is too early in the morning and my wits are begging.”
When she smiled like that, Gervase felt the usual enchanted delight begin to steal over him. His lingering resentment over her request for more money dissipated. “That is the beginning of a series of payments to you.”
“Oh, I’m to be paid in little bits of worked gold?” she asked with interest.
“It’s the catch of a pearl necklace,” he explained, “a rather beautiful double rope of pearls. I had the jeweler disassemble it.” He dug a tiny object wrapped in velvet from an inner pocket. “Whenever I visit you, I’ll bring another pearl. Then, when the necklace is complete, I’ll have it restrung.”
She examined the flawless, lustrous sphere, its silvery sheen marking it as a pearl of the highest quality. “How very imaginative, my lord! In one stroke you have surprised me while efficiently saving yourself from having to think about the subject again for months to come.”
The viscount’s face grew more than usually expressionless, but there was no criticism in her chiming laughter. Placing one hand on his arm, she stood on her toes to brush a velvet-soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Gervase. You are most kind.”
Even that light touch was enough to make him consider forgoing their ride for indoor sport, but the morning was bright and beckoning, and there would be few more as fine before winter set in. They walked back to the stables, where Phaedra had taken up permanent residence. Since Diana was now his mistress, the loan horse had become a gift horse.
As they rode the short distance to Hyde Park, Gervase felt some remorse about the pearl necklace. His midnight chat with Madeline had resulted in a commitment of two hundred pounds a month to be deposited into a bank. Based on the cost of the pearl necklace, if he visited Diana an average of three times a week, she would receive one hundred pounds’ worth of pearls each month, which would equal his original offer of a monthly three hundred pounds.
