"The latter," he said. "I was engaged to meet some friends in the park. I daresay they've given me up now, so I may as well return home."
"If you think to make me feel guilty, brother, I can tell you you haven't succeeded." Marcus still held her by the waist and she took a step away from him. His hands tightened and she retraced the step, smiling slightly even as she wondered what the grooms and stablehands must be thinking.
"I never attempt lost causes," Sebastian said with a grin. "And I don't think you need me around at the moment, so I'll bid you farewell."
"We have some unfinished business," Marcus said, his bantering tone disappeared. Sebastian raised his eyebrows and his brother-in-law went on, "I've been trying to catch you these last five days. Will I find you at White's or Watier's later tonight?"
"White's," Sebastian said without hesitation. Gracemere had said he would be at the faro tables at White's that evening.
Marcus felt the stirring of the air between brother and sister as if it were palpable. He'd noticed before these strange, suspended instants of tension, when they both seemed to hear something different from the actual words spoken. "Then I'll find you there," he said.
"I'm intrigued," Judith said. "What unfinished business could you have with Sebastian?"
"None of your business, ma'am."
"Oh, is it not?" A flare ignited the golden eyes.
Sebastian, chuckling, left them to it and strolled out of the yard. Matters seemed to be going less bumpily between his sister and her husband these days.
"Inside," Marcus directed. "We're going to have that discussion on semantics."
"Oh, good," Judith said happily. "That's bound to be interesting."
"Yes, I believe it will be. Walk a little faster."
Meekly Judith obeyed the pressure in the small of her back. "How did you find Lady Moreton?"
"Invalidish, in a word. Toad-eating, in another. A dead bore, in three more. Must we encourage this connection?"
"Yes."
"I detect a note of finality."
"Admit that Harriet is charmingly pretty, has the sweetest manners, and will make Sebastian a splendid wife."
"I accept the first two, although she's shy as a church mouse, but for the third-it seems to me a veritable mismatch."
"Sebastian knows what he wants," Judith said with quiet confidence. "And what he wants, he gets."
"Not unlike his sister," Marcus observed, but Judith could hear no sting to the statement.
19
"I don't know why the silly chit should be so standoffish." Gracemere paced the firelit salon, his mouth twisted with annoyance.
"She's shy, Bernard." Agnes poured tea. "And she's very young."
"So was Martha, but I didn't have such difficulty with her. I had her eating out of my hand in two weeks."
Agnes refrained from pointing out that the earl had been younger then. "Martha was ripe for the picking," she said. "Carrington's proprietorial indifference left her with so little self-esteem that she could be easily flattered into love.".
"You do me such honor, ma'am," Gracemere said with chilly irony.
"Oh, don't fly into a pucker, Bernard. You know perfectly well it's the truth. Harriet hasn't yet felt her wings. It's her first Season." She rose from the sofa, carrying his tea across to him. "However, have you noticed how Judith seems to have taken the child up? And Sebastian seems always to be at her side."
Gracemere gave a crack of derisive laughter. "That greenhorn! He's a ninny with more money than sense."
"So long as he's worth plucking." Agnes turned back to the tea tray.
"I only wish it could be more of a challenge," the earl said, sipping his tea.
Agnes looked up at him. "Count your blessings, my love. Why would you want to work harder than you must?"
He laughed, touching a finger to his lips in salutation. "I take your point. But to return to the Moreton chit. You must contrive to ensure she's more in my company."
"I'm not sure how much good it would do. If the child is doe-eyed for Sebastian, and Judith has decided to take up his cause, then we face some difficulties."
Gracemere's pale eyes hardened. "If the girl can't be persuaded, there are other methods."
Agnes pursed her lips. "Abduction, you mean?"
"If necessary. A night in that Hampstead inn is all that's required. It doesn't much matter if the girl spends it willingly or not. She'll be ruined either way."
"Society is so unjust," Agnes murmured with a smile. "A girl's innocence is wrested from her with an act of ravishment, and she's considered no longer fit for decent company." She glided toward Gracemere, a fluid, undulating walk, reminiscent of a serpent's slither.
"But an honorable marriage will conceal her shame," he replied, both lust and cruelty in his smile. Agnes went into his arms, her breathing swift, her lips parted, her eyes glittering with an almost feral excitement. He fastened on her mouth with a savage hunger, reflecting yet again that the planning of evil and the prospect of suffering were for Agnes the most potent aphrodisiacs. It was yet another link in the chain that bound them.
"An honorable marriage that will cost her family every penny of thirty thousand pounds," Agnes whispered against his mouth. "Poor child, I could almost pity her. Will you be kind to her?"
"I have kindness only for you, my own. The kindness that I know pleasures you." Gracemere smiled and bit down on her lower lip, his fingers closing fiercely over her right breast, pinching the rising nipple.
Agnes shuddered as the hurt blossomed and she moaned, pressing her loins against his, and the inevitable, blissful excitement surged in her blood.
The earl smiled to himself as he felt her response. Life was full of attractive propositions at the moment, with Carrington's wife begging like a fawning puppy for his help in taunting her husband and young Davenport offering himself as meekly as any sheep to the shearer.
"Judith, are you feeling quite well?" Sally looked anxiously at her sister-in-law, who seemed listless, lacking her usual burnished luster.
Judith had a headache and a dragging pain in the base of her belly. It had come on since she'd arrived at the Herons' soiree, and she didn't need a visit to the retiring room to confirm what she already knew. That wild and glorious night of lovemaking had had no fruitful consequences, and she didn't know whether she was glad or sorry.
"It's just the time of the month," she said. "And this party is so insipid." The soiree had so far featured a harpist of mediocre talent, a meager supper, and indifferent champagne. "Let's go into the card room," she suggested, putting aside her nearly untouched supper plate.
"There's a loo table in the small salon," Isobel said. "We could join that."
Judith's expression was not encouraging. "No, come and play basset instead. The stakes aren't too high, and I've explained how to make the best calculation on the card order, so at least you have some tool against pure chance.
"I don't feel clear-headed enough tonight," Sally said. "I don't think I can play properly if I haven't prepared myself beforehand."
"And all the preparation in the world doesn't necessarily help me," Cornelia declared. "I'm in favor of loo."
"But it's limited loo," Judith said disgustedly. "There's no challenge in that."
"The words of a true gamester, Lady Carrington." Agnes Barret's soft tones came from behind Judith, and it was only with the exercise of supreme self-control that she kept dislike and unease from her expression as she turned.
"Good evening, Lady Barret. Have you just arrived? I'm afraid you've missed the harpist." She offered a bland smile.