Page 25

K ynthea looked at her travelling companions and wondered at their moods.

Zoe looked determined, as if she were heading into a race with thousands of pounds riding on the outcome.

The duke was thoroughly pleasant, but his expression turned grim when he thought no one was looking.

The maid, of course, was completely placid.

She was the oldest woman on their staff, kept on out of obligation.

Mostly she oversaw the maids and took naps, which was what she was doing now.

As for Kynthea, she had made her decision last night.

She’d even spoken with her aunt about leaving their home as soon as she could find a new solution.

The lady had been gracious. She understood that none of this was Kynthea’s fault, but she had to think of Zoe’s reputation.

She even promised to write a reference letter to help her get a position, on the condition that Kynthea went far away from London.

“Spain, perhaps, or better yet, Russia,” were the lady’s exact words.

There would be no reference if Kynthea wanted to stay in England.

Or in any English-speaking country for that matter.

Clearly the association with her uncle’s family was at an end, and so Kynthea’s choices were to travel as a single woman to a country where she couldn’t even speak the language, or find another path.

But what path was open to her? She had no marketable skills except her poise.

And if she were to be damned as a jezebel, then perhaps she ought to become one in truth.

A courtesan or a mistress. She knew the basics of copulation.

She’d grown up in the country and had discussed horse breeding with Zoe.

Plus, she’d learned that her maidenhead would be highly prized, which made her inexperience a natural expectation rather than a detriment.

What she didn’t have was the knowledge of who might be interested in her.

She hoped that the duke would help her with that.

It would be an awkward conversation to be sure, but she had no other male person whom she could ask.

So she dressed with care, then settled into the carriage and hoped for an opportunity to plead her case. This probably wasn’t the usual way things were done, but she’d gotten an extensive education at My Lady’s Apothecary yesterday.

The business of becoming a mistress was much more than understanding the physical mechanics.

She needed lodging, a servant, and basic income.

Many demi-reps were flashy, beautiful ladies who accompanied their patrons to all sorts of scandalous activities.

Others were quiet, discreet women who served at the man’s beck and call and never showed their faces in public.

She guessed that the duke would prefer the latter as would many of his friends, but she had no way of knowing that for sure.

And though he was likely an accomplished negotiator, she was completely untried in these waters.

She prayed that he would help her in these matters. And if a tiny part of her hoped that he would make her his, then that was only natural. After all, she was agonizingly attracted to him and believed that he returned her affection. Who better to start her on this path?

All these thoughts swirled in her head while the miles sped by.

The conversation was general and therefore didn’t require much attention.

Especially since Zoe was making a determined effort to ferret out His Grace’s interests.

They learned that the duke enjoyed chess, though he was by no means a master.

He had a fondness for tales about naval battles, but he was not a historian.

And though he did like dogs, his favorite pet had passed away some years ago and he’d never had the heart to get another.

In short, they learned that His Grace was a humble man not at all interested in pushing his passions on anyone else or claiming that he was anything more than a hobbyist. Kynthea respected him all the more for it.

Zoe appeared frustrated that she could not ooh and ahh over something, as if she, too, were fascinated by his amusements.

Having failed in that, Zoe tried a different tack.

“Did you know that our fathers were great friends, Your Grace?”

The duke frowned. “Truly? I had no idea.” Indeed, from his tone, he appeared skeptical.

“Oh yes. My father has often said how his holiday at your Newbury estate was the happiest time of his life.”

Now the duke’s brows rose to fill his expression with doubt. “Truly? How so?”

Undaunted, Zoe continued, as if his posture weren’t calling her a liar. “Well, it was your grandfather, of course, who had the true racing passion. Your father enjoyed it—”

The duke cut her off. “My father enjoyed riding, but it wasn’t his happiest pastime.”

“Quite right, Your Grace. Your father loved billiards. Apparently, my father spent his days talking horses with your grandfather, and his evenings playing billiards with your father. He was blissfully happy from dawn through dusk, and nothing has ever matched that joy for him. He called it, living a true gentleman’s life. ”

Kynthea thought there was more to being a gentleman than riding and billiards. So, apparently, did His Grace, though his expression softened into wistful.

“It was the ideal boy’s life, I suppose. I must confess I spent a great many days in exactly the same manner, at least until my father died and I had to learn the running of things.”

“Did you know that my father and your grandfather created a plan for your stable? In fact, they corresponded regularly until his death a year later.”

It was said that the duke’s grandfather passed from grief after his son’s death. Whether from grief or lung ailment, his death left Ras without a male guide before he turned twelve. That was much too young to assume the reins of a dukedom.

Meanwhile, Zoe pulled a stack of letters from her reticule. “I have some of them here. My father had them sent up from our country home. He’d kept them all these years.”

“The devil, you say,” Ras muttered as he leaned forward. His expression was eager as Zoe passed him the letters. “Have you read them?”

“Oh yes. I went over every one with my father yesterday. They’re mostly about your breeding stock.

Horses that are now, unfortunately, long gone.

There is one letter of interest,” she said as she pulled the top one off the pile.

“I gather my father had proposed a daring expansion idea. He’d outlined it in great detail.

As you can see…” She unfolded the missive.

“Your grandfather thought it very interesting. I don’t know if he was indulging a young man—”

“My grandfather did not indulge anyone,” the duke said dryly.

“If he praised the idea, then he meant it.” He lifted the letter to the light and began reading.

Zoe remained quiet as he did, but Kynthea knew the girl was bursting with excitement.

Finally, she’d gotten the duke’s attention on his horses.

That was exactly the topic Zoe most desired.

After the duke finished reading, he dropped the hand holding the letter to his knee and looked straight at Zoe. “Do you have any idea what those plans were? The one that your father suggested?”

That appeared to be exactly the question Zoe had been waiting for. The girl brightened as if she were born to walk the boards. She blushed, smiled coyly, then pulled another folded sheet of foolscap from her reticule.

“I asked my father that exact same thing!” she said. “He didn’t recall specifically. It was so long ago, you understand, but this is the base of it as he explained it to me.”

She unfolded the paper, which Kynthea now saw was actually three pages plus the latest two racing sheets.

“If you would look here, Your Grace, I’ve taken the liberty of writing my father’s idea down and inserting the name of current bloodlines.

The horses have all changed from your grandfather’s time, but Papa and I are both racing enthusiasts.

You’ll see here from the latest two racing sheets what we’re thinking.

” She passed those over to the duke who did appear interested in what Zoe had to say.

So interested, in fact, that they passed the rest of the journey in discussion of Zoe’s thoughts about his horses.

The ideas for an expansion, how much money it would cost, and the signs of what would make her plans successful.

Despite the way Zoe kept referring to her father and the duke’s grandfather, Kynthea knew that this was Zoe’s plan.

Her father had likely helped, but the real brains behind this multi-year expansion came from Zoe herself.

The duke was fascinated. He listened attentively, looked at where she pointed, asked relevant questions, and even began to detail things his stablemaster had told him.

Zoe agreed for the most part. Horse racing had some universally accepted thoughts.

But when she disagreed, she didn’t pull any punches.

“He’s not wrong,” Zoe said, referring to the duke’s stablemaster. “He’s just old. He thinks it should be done that way because it’s always been done that way.”

“You disagree.”

“I think…”

If the duke resented having a female school him about his own horses, he didn’t show it.

Indeed, he challenged her straight on, forcing Zoe to defend her conclusions.

By the time they arrived at his estate outside London, the two were having a lively discussion about breeding methods.

It was not a proper topic, and yet, neither one flinched from the topic.

The discussion continued through their refreshment. The duke made pains to include Kynthea or to change the conversation to a more general topic, but she knew when she was beat. She laughed as she waved them both away.

“Go on with the both of you. I know Zoe wants to show you what she means. She’s always happiest when she has a horse nearby.”

“Miss Petrelli,” the duke rushed to say, “I’m afraid we’ve been terribly rude.”

“You have been nothing of the sort. Now go. I shall enjoy this lovely lemonade and then stroll down to join you in a moment.”

Zoe dimpled as she smiled at Kynthea. “My cousin understands me very well. She’s been a loyal friend to me.”

The duke agreed. “She has been very patient this day.”

Kynthea laughed. “Go away! I want to listen to the birdsong. We never hear it so clearly in London.”

The duke bowed to her and then escorted Zoe to the stables.

Kynthea watched them go, her heart sinking at their obvious connection.

She understood exactly what was happening here.

Zoe was making her play for the duke’s hand in marriage, and from the looks of things, she was succeeding beautifully.

Given that the Crown had already approved of their union, a shared interest would overcome most scruples.

Indeed, it was a godsend for the typical aristocratic marriage.

Which meant that His Grace and Zoe would likely be engaged by the evening meal. And what a shock that was! The duke had been clear that he had no intention of marrying Zoe. And yet, the two had found a common interest. And with the pressure from the Crown, a marriage was the most likely outcome.

Which meant Zoe would indeed ask Kynthea to be her companion. But that would be a big problem for Kynthea.

It was a stupid thing, really. Indeed, she couldn’t possibly believe it had happened.

She knew better, but it was too late. Her heart was engaged.

She had no idea when she’d tumbled into love.

Perhaps it was when he had sat beside her for a week defending her reputation.

Or maybe it had happened when he threw off his spat and instructed the orchestra to begin the waltz again.

She knew her body had thrilled to his kiss and then heated nigh until boiling at night.

She couldn’t close her eyes without reliving every single touch between them, from their most formal greeting to the intimate thrust of his tongue.

She’d relived that latter thing many times. And when Madame Ilie had explained more lustful activities, her heart had pounded with excitement, and she’d lost herself several times in her imagination.

She was glad that Zoe had carried the conversation in the carriage because Kynthea’s mind had been almost wholly absorbed in wondering about the duke’s hands and where he might put them.

About how it would feel to have him kiss her breasts or spread her thighs.

Far from being frightened at the idea of him in her bed, she had imagined his thrust as he filled her.

Her nipples had grown tight and her nether regions moist. It was not something a proper companion would admit, but she couldn’t lie to herself.

She lusted after the man, and it had been near torture to sit across him in the carriage and not feel his touch again.

She gave up the mental pretense of searching for a different protector.

She wanted to become the duke’s mistress.

It was the best option for her, and indeed, a dream come true if one examined what she’d been thinking last night.

But now His Grace was set to marry Zoe. And though many men had a wife and a mistress, could she betray her cousin like that? Could she lie with Zoe’s husband?

The idea was repulsive. Which meant she couldn’t be the duke’s mistress. And she couldn’t be Zoe’s proper companion either. Not if this morning’s carriage ride was an example of what was to come. While Zoe and the duke had discussed horses, Kynthea had nearly melted from lust.

She’d hid it the best she could. Thankfully, once horses became the topic, Zoe wouldn’t notice a lightning bolt two feet away. But Kynthea knew how far she’d gone into lust, from the sweat on her brow and the uncomfortable way she’d shifted and moved on the squabs.

She wanted the man her cousin would marry, and if she remained Zoe’s companion, she’d spend night and day in the duke’s house.

She’d likely have a bedroom down the hall from him.

How could she possibly survive living in proximity to His Grace without completely disgracing herself?

And humiliating her cousin in the process?

It was insupportable. And yet, what other option did she have?