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This Duchess of Mine(114)

By:Eloisa James


“I need Jemma,” Villiers said, sounding amused.

“Or rather, I need a wife and she promised to help.”

“Oh!” Jemma said. “Do let me go, Elijah. I promised to introduce Leopold to the Montague sisters. I just saw Eleanor, dressed as Caesar’s wife.”

Elijah reluctantly let her go, just pulling her back at the last moment. “Later,” he said into her ear.

And then watched her walk off with Villiers, knowing that the high flush on his wife’s cheeks had nothing to do with face paint.

As the night wore on, the gardens gradually emptied of revelers. Some of the lanterns winked out, giving the paths the air of a wild bacchanalia. Carriages drew up continually outside the little stone wall, taking away groups of chattering noblemen. The hems of their togas were black with dirt; they themselves were replete with gossip; it was accounted a brilliant night by all.

Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Mogg were the only two people still waiting outside the gate. “But the duke and duchess haven’t come out!” she wailed.

“We’ve been here for hours, Marge,” Henry said.

“You know I love you, but I’m done with this here waiting. We must have missed them. Or they left through another gate. Look, all them servants have left, and the place is dark now.”

Mrs. Mogg finally allowed herself to be drawn away, though she could hardly believe it. “I couldn’t have missed him. There must be another gate.”

“’Course there is,” Henry said stoutly. “They probably left early. Too many people in that there garden, if you ask me.”

But in fact not all the lanterns were out. There were still glowing lights hanging from the columns of the baths themselves, and the duke and duchess were wandering hand in hand in that direction.

“We’ve never been here at night,” Jemma said. “It’s magical, Elijah. Just look at all the stars.”

“I have a surprise for you,” her husband said.

They walked between the dilapidated columns, turned right and descended the stairs to the baths. Jemma stopped. “Oh, Elijah!”

In the golden light of the lanterns hanging around the baths, the pool looked like a purple sea. The entire surface was covered with hundreds and hundreds of floating violets. “It’s so beautiful!”

“Every violet Stubbins was able to force in his new frames,” Elijah said with satisfaction, “and more sent in from the country.”

She smiled up at him. “Extravagant man!”

“I’ve been waiting to do this all evening.” He slid the knotted cloth of her toga off her shoulder. It fell to the ground, leaving her in nothing but an extremely naughty pair of cherry-colored stays.

“I didn’t expect to find that under your toga!” Elijah said. His voice darkened at the very sight of her slender long legs topped by stays that pushed her breasts forward, as if they longed for a man’s touch.

Jemma took a step toward him with a sultry swing of her hips. “Your toga, Duke.” With one finger, she pushed it off his shoulder.

Unlike the duchess, the duke had chosen to wear nothing under his toga.

Jemma broke into laughter.

“It was a good idea,” Elijah said, grabbing her. His hands slid down her back, over her stays, shaped her bottom. “Unfortunately, every time I caught sight of you I had to turn away and think hard about chess, because the front of this damned toga tented in the most obvious manner.”

He picked her up and carried her straight into the water. They made a little path through the violets, as fragrance drifted into the air. “Oh, Elijah,” Jemma said, “this is the most romantic night I could ever have dreamed of.”

“Do you know what interesting fact Stubbins told me this morning?” he asked, striding through the violet sea.

“Does it involve manure?” she asked, leaning her head against his chest, just for the reassurance of hearing the steady beat of his heart.

“You can eat violets.” He placed her carefully down on the edge of the bath, where he had arranged for long cushions to be placed on the cold marble, just as the Romans had.

“What on earth are you planning?” Jemma said. She stretched languorously, loving the way his eyes ran greedily along the lines of her legs.

“I’m going to turn you into a pagan goddess,” he said, nimbly pulling out the pins that held up her curls, and then turning to the ties holding up her stays.

Jemma lay back and smiled at the open sky. Far overhead, stars were shining, though the roofless bath seemed like the most protected room in the world. Elijah was tucking flowers in all her ringlets. He stood back and looked at her. She rolled over on her side and propped up her head with one hand. “How do I look?”