It wouldn’t be chased away. Instead the urge became stronger as he approached. His shaving soap wafted on the air between them. He smiled that faint little smile which made her heart catch. “Come, my darling.”
He offered her his arm and she accepted. She wasn’t a bold courtesan after all.
She sat immediately on his right at the long table. Candlelight bathed the white cloth in soft, dancing tones of yellow-orange and twinkled through the crystal glasses in sparkling miniature rainbows.
The array of delicately painted white-and-blue china and luminous silver cutlery dismayed her. She didn’t want David to think she was crude, uncultured. But she was unlearned and as common as plain woolen stockings, and there was no hiding it now.
Well, she would just watch and see in what order he used everything and copy him. Yes, no need to worry.
The one servant present laid their meal out with a stiff, unhappy expression, and then he stepped back.
“You may leave us, Johnson.”
Jeanne watched the man leave. “I don’t think he approves of my being here.”
“It‘s not his place to approve or disapprove. However, he’s always like that. I suppose I find it preferable to a personal servant who is forever effervescently cheerful. I am not married. I may bring my mistress to my house if I choose.”
“Do you often do so?”
“No, you are the first to grace my table.”
“Truthfully?”
“I have only had one other mistress,” he said, as if she’d already given her consent to be his mistress. “But I was young and my father was the Duke of Hartley then and he didn’t approve.”
“I am sorry to hear that.” To her surprise she was, for she had heard the hurt in his voice.
“I think he was right to disapprove. I cannot fault him now.” His voice carried such deep regret that it resonated in her own heart.
“Why do you feel that way?”
“Because it all ended so badly for everyone involved. Especially for Thérèse.” His face tightened with a very forced-looking smile. “But let us not dwell on the past tonight.”
She was disappointed. She had wanted to hear the whole story of his liaison with Thérèse, to offer her sympathy, but she would not pry. However, there was something else she wanted to know. “That woman in your box at the theatre last night…”
Her voice faded away with mortification as the implication of what she was asking washed over her. One did not ask a gentleman about his women.
But David did not look offended. “Isabella is my brother Henry’s wife.”
“Oh.”
He smiled. “She’s a friend. My brother is not fond of social events and he rarely escorts her.”
“She’s frightfully beautiful.’
He stared at her for a moment. “I suppose she is but I have never looked at her that way.”
“No?”
“It would be incestuous—in more ways than one.” His voice held a note of finality that signaled he had no wish to continue speaking of this subject.
She turned her attention to her food. It was a relaxed meal served in one sitting of roasted beef with a rich wine sauce, parsnips, roasted pears, and simple fresh-baked bread. She was grateful for that because she couldn’t really swallow more than tiny mouthfuls. She kept glancing about at the elegant décor. Gleaming, dark wood. Bright, shiny brass. Pure beeswax candles. Her own expensive gown and her silk-clad legs that kept sliding against each other. The new garters itched.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Not much.”
“Are you nervous?”
“A little.” She looked about again. “Everything is so grand. This room seems so vast.”
“Yes, when I was child, the wide space in here used to make me nervous, too. I suppose I’ve become accustomed to the scale. I like this chamber now. It makes me feel as though there are no limits. The air is clear here. At the House Of Lords, The Inns and the clubs, there’s always so much breathing down each other’s necks, everyone always in each other’s affairs.”
“You were afraid of this room as a child?” It was to imagine him as a small child.
He glanced up at the ceiling and his body seemed to grow tense, as though it were an instinctive response. For a moment, she could picture him as a small boy, listening, holding himself rigid in terrible anticipation. But in response to what?
“I was terrified by most things in this house.” He appeared to shake himself and he smiled. “Your evening at the theatre was interrupted last evening.”
“Yes, it was.” She didn’t really want to dwell on last night. There would be time later to think over everything that had come to pass.