This Duchess of Mine(56)

“Of course, your cousin is always a charming companion,” Jemma said, watching Elijah bend his head to the marquise again. She was flirting with her fan now, eyeing him over the edge. Jemma had to admit that the marquise wielded a fan like a deadly weapon.

Wasn’t this just what she wanted?

Of course it was! She snatched her own fan, shook it open with a snap and sailed forward. She might not be wearing a chemise gown—in fact, she was wearing a dress of silver muslin that covered every inch of her bosom—but she was still the Duchess of Beaumont.

“How lovely you look!” she cried, by way of greeting.

The marquise dropped her a curtsy that had the marked benefit of presenting all three gentlemen—Villiers, Elijah, and Corbin—with an excellent view of her breasts. “As do you,” she said, her tone a little breathless. “I adore muslin; I always have. Why, I was married in a dress quite like that.” She smiled innocently. “Though of course that was quite a while ago now.”

Jemma knew that if she narrowed her eyes, it would honor that insult. “It is hard to countenance how old we have all grown, isn’t it?” she asked, knowing full well that the marquise was only two years younger than she. “We must make a pact never to try to dress with the joie de vivre of the very young. There’s nothing worse than a matron in a dashing style that only the youngest of women can wear with confidence.”

“Confidence is so essential to beauty, isn’t it?” the marquise replied, neatly turning Jemma’s insult on its head. “I think there’s nothing worse than an anxious woman. There can be nothing more aging than desperation.”

“Dear me,” Villiers said, a wicked smile playing around his mouth. “You both look rather purple in the face. It must be the heat from the fire. Madame la Marquise, do let me move you away from this annoying heat.” And he scooped her away while Jemma was still planning her next riposte.

Elijah was called away to greet Lord Vesey, so Jemma turned to Corbin. “Just when did she transform into such a hussy?” she demanded.

Corbin’s eyes were dancing. “Only after the second glass of Champagne. Although that gown she is wearing suggests that the real marquise has been hiding behind all that black-and-white. I find myself very interested in what her husband will make of her transformation.”

“He’s back in France,” Jemma said. “Spared the sight of his wife wearing a gown that a demirep might find too debauched.”

“She’s downing a third glass of Champagne,” Corbin said thoughtfully. “I never should have bought those two bottles at Vauxhall. Do you know, she’s been telling me the last twenty minutes that she wants to visit the gardens again tonight?”

“She and Villiers look quite good together,” Jemma said. “They have that same sort of French insouciance.”

“Which you need to practice,” Corbin said. “You looked like a disgruntled little spaniel when you were watching her flirt with your husband.”

“I never look like a canine!” Jemma cried.

“One who lost her bone,” Corbin added.

“This was your idea,” Jemma said glumly. “I don’t think it’s working very well.”

“That’s because you have to move to the second part of the plan: in other words, the point at which you cut out the marquise and start flirting with Beaumont yourself.”

“Oh, hurrah,” Jemma said. “I don’t think that Elijah is even interested in flirting. He’s such a straightforward type of person—”

“He’s doing a good job of it now,” Corbin pointed out.

Jemma whipped her head around. The marquise had escaped from Villiers and was standing in front of Elijah. He was laughing. “She can be very witty.”

“You wanted formidable competition,” Corbin said firmly. “You have it. She’s witty, a little tipsy, and making it all too clear that she is available.”

Jemma felt herself grinding her teeth. “Well, he’s not available.”

“I suggest that you amuse yourself for a time before making a move toward your husband,” Corbin said.

“It’s not considered appropriate to glower at your spouse. Remember, there’s nothing more aging than desperation.”

Jemma sighed. “I’ll talk to Villiers.”

“About chess, no doubt?”

She nodded. “I expect he’s seething over that combination move I managed this afternoon. We can talk it through.”

“Make it look as if you’re flirting with him,” Corbin said, by way of farewell.