Three Weeks With Lady X(15)

India balled up her fist and struck him on the shoulder as hard as she  could. He did not flinch at the blow, but he fell backward a step, still  laughing. She turned to go, muttering under her breath.

He caught her arm. "What did you say, India?"                       
       
           



       

She turned her head and glared at him. "Let go of me!"

"Not until you tell me what you said." That dimple again.

"I said that you are a bastard," she told him, straight out.

"You're correct." The man was damnably attractive when he laughed. His  gray eyes turned warm. And warm was dangerous because it made India feel  warm too.

She wrenched her wrist from his grip.

"If you don't renovate Starberry Court," he called when she was halfway  to the door, "I'll inform Eleanor that you called me a bastard and used  my birth as the reason you fled."

India froze, then turned around slowly. "That wasn't what I meant, and  you know it!" The Duke of Villiers and his wife were fiercely protective  of his illegitimate children. Eleanor might forgive her; Villiers would  not. And she liked them. She liked both of them.

"But that's what you said. I have you in a corner, India. If you're  thinking that my father wouldn't like it . . . you're right. Not only  would he not like it; he would destroy your reputation without a second  thought."

"You wouldn't!"

"Yes, I would. I want Laetitia as my wife. I don't want to waste time  looking for another woman. Her mother is apparently hell-bent on her  daughter being kitted out with a country estate, thus I must invite her  here before the news about Rose leaks, as you informed me outside. And  you have made it more than clear that I need your taste-did you say that  it was impeccable? Not just any tradesman can do the job."

"You are blackmailing me. You are a corrupt-"

He cut her off. "What's more, you'll have to renovate the dower house as  well. That wasn't a bad idea on your part. Rose can stay in the dower  house during the party so that the Rainsfords don't jump to the same  conclusion you did about her parentage."

"They won't like it whenever they meet her."

"I do believe I'll take up your idea about a special license. They can meet Rose once I'm their son-in-law."

India didn't know what to think. "Very well," she said, giving in. She  would hate it if Eleanor thought she was so insufferable that she  wouldn't associate with Thorn due to his birth. "I'll help you."

"You'll stay for the party as well," he said, his voice deep and smooth  now he'd got everything he wanted. "I've invited a friend of mine who  will likely fall madly in love with you. You need a husband, and he's  available."

"I have no need for your help finding a husband!"

"It would only be fair," he said, his voice pious and his eyes dancing.

India curled her nails so tightly into her palms that they dented her  skin. "I want an unlimited budget. I'll have to hire half of London to  get this done quickly."

"Go ahead. We rich bastards come in three sorts: rich, very rich, and even richer. I'm the last sort."

"Have you any specific requests as regards decoration of the house?"

He shrugged. "I like every color other than red. My father appreciates  luxury, and one guest room should look like a king's palace, if  possible. Get rid of those naked statues, unless you want to keep the  satyr for yourself. It's sad to think of you having grown this old  without ever glimpsing a man's arse."

"If you ever say anything like that to me again, I will walk out that door and never return," India stated.

There was a moment of silence, and then he smiled again. It was galling  to recognize a drop of admiration in his eyes. "Balls," he said, "you've  got them."

"I am not a general!" she said, and then kept going, made reckless by fury. "How do you know I haven't seen a man's arse?"

"If you have, you have untold depths, Lady Xenobia," he said, his amusement clear.

"Lady Adelaide and I will welcome you back in precisely a week," she  said, ignoring his provocation. "By then, I will know the full extent of  what needs to be done."

"Right. One more thing," he said. "I don't want a bed in Laetitia's room; she'll sleep with me."

"No bed?" India said, incredulous. "Of course I'll put a bed in your  wife's chamber. What if she doesn't wish to sleep with you?"

"We'll sleep together." He folded his arms again.

"Your wife-"

"I know. She deserves much better than I."

"Me," India snapped.

"What?"

" ‘I' is ungrammatical; it should be, ‘She deserves much better than me.' "                       
       
           



       

He burst out laughing, so India talked over him. "Privacy is a lady's  prerogative, no matter whether her husband considers her-and treats her  like-a possession."

"You seem to think that Laetitia won't want to sleep with me," he said  silkily. "Dear me, India. You take such a dismal view of marriage; you  must at least feign optimism once you accept a man's hand."

She turned on her heel and stamped out of the room, followed by a deep  masculine chuckle. "I saw your lips moving," he called. "Didn't you tell  Lady Adelaide that you never curse? Or were you talking about her  butler?"

Choice words rocketed through India's head.

"Three weeks with Lady Xenobia as my wife," Dautry said, still laughing  as he caught up with her. "I can't think of a better prologue to a life  with Laetitia."





Chapter Nine



June 20, 1799

The Horn & Stage Inn

Just after sunrise the next morning, India rousted Adelaide from her bed and dragged her back to Starberry Court.

"Why must we be here early?" Adelaide asked, her sentence cut off by a yawn. "I'm in no hurry to see Jupp's statuary again."

"I have so much to do; I can't waste time." India crossed the entry hall, feeling a rising sense of excitement.

Adelaide trailed after her. "The statues look absolutely revolting in the morning light, don't they?"

A bird-or a flock of them-had plainly roosted on the marbles' heads and  other bits of their anatomy; all the sculptures were lavishly streaked  with white. India didn't care. Her first order of business was to  inventory the rooms. After that she would tackle cleaning, with the help  of every chambermaid she could find in the village and vicinity.

Adelaide drifted through the entry, morosely holding her skirts above  the dust. She loved to accompany India from house to house, primarily  because it gave her an opportunity for a long visit with acquaintances.  India loved the challenge, but Adelaide loved the company.

"I'm in no danger of finding myself compromised here," India said. "By  noon today, I'll be surrounded by laborers, from gardeners to maids."

"That's true enough," Adelaide said, poking at one of the statues with a  gloved finger. "I think this one is a copy. It's plaster, not marble."

"Why not return to the inn? You could send my lady's maid back in the  carriage and spend the day relaxing in that lovely parlor, reading a  book."

"I couldn't leave you alone!"

"Marie would be here in no time, Adelaide. And since Dautry rented the  entire inn, your presence will give the innkeeper and his wife something  to do."

"Well . . ."

"I insist," India said firmly, taking Adelaide straight back out the  door and leading her to the carriage. "I'll see you for dinner tonight,  dearest. I'd be most grateful if the innkeeper could send a light  luncheon."

Once Adelaide was gone, India returned inside, enjoying the great  echoing sense of the house. A surge of excitement bubbled inside her.  Furnishing and staffing a great house from the ground up would be the  perfect swan song to her career.

She would give Starberry Court a sense of dignity and tradition, with a  balance of beauty and comfort. Interestingly, the furnishings that were  left in the house did not live up to Jupp's lurid reputation. There was  some unfortunate damask wallpaper in one bedchamber, but that was a  question of taste rather than depravity. And if Jupp had hung his  bedstead in garish red velvet, the cloth had long since been stolen.

She pulled out a piece of foolscap. One sheet would account for every  object in the house, and another would list ideas for walls and  furnishings. In the next hour, she opened every drawer in the kitchens,  wrinkled her nose at the privies, and investigated the butler's pantry,  only to find empty shelves lined with felt where silver should have  been.