A Whisper of Desire (10 page)

Turning to the mirror to deal with a stray curl, Rose said, “I hate to say, but most men have had a mistress at some stage of their lives. Some for all of their lives.” She hesitated before adding, “Probably because so few of the
ton
marry for love.”

“I asked Maitland if he had a mistress before we married. He denied it, but Rutherford says I should ask him about Priscilla.” Marisa watched for Rose's reaction and Rose's hands halted briefly in their tidying of her hair. “You know of the Dowager Lyttleton?” Marisa asked her new friend.

“She is two years older than I.” Rose turned from the mirror. “I have heard the rumors, though, but that is all they are, rumors. I've never met the dowager duchess, because since her marriage she has never come to town. She prefers to stay in Hampshire.”

Marisa swallowed her pride. “Would you mind telling me the rumors? I'd like to be prepared.”

“The past is often best left behind. People make mistakes. They do things they regret.”

As she watched Rose pinch her cheeks, Marisa was certain Rose was referring to herself.

“Take me, for instance. When I became a widow I thanked God and swore I'd never marry again and become any man's property. So I took lovers and enjoyed the scandalous reputation. I regret my behavior now.”

“May I inquire as to why?”

“The man I've been in love with all of my adult life no longer sees me as marriage material. He might have once, but now that he's become the earl, my reputation speaks for itself”—tears flooded Rose's eyes—“I am no longer suitable to be his countess.”

“Lord Cumberland?”

Rose wiped her tears away. “He loves me in his own way, but not enough to overlook my past.”

They were lovers. Why were men so dense? Rose would make a wonderful wife. She was kind, intelligent, and beautiful. “Perhaps it might be time to walk away and see if absence makes him reevaluate your relationship.”

“I doubt he has any idea I want anything more. He knows I've turned down countless proposals.”

“Then tell him. You may find he's been wishing to offer for you, but thinks he'll be rejected too.”

“A very sensible suggestion. Let me return the favor. Why not ask your husband about the rumors?” Rose sighed when Marisa said nothing. “
Apparently
the young Marquess of Carr, as Maitland was while his father lived, met and fell in love with Priscilla Whedon, the widow of Baron Ligonier. Priscilla was, and now likely still is, a great beauty, and unfortunately, Maitland's father took one look and decided he must have her.”

“I've heard that Maitland's father was not a nice man, hence why Maitland is being targeted, but his own son's heart's desire…” The idea that Maitland had loved this woman and could still be in love with her made Marisa's heart cramp.

“It gets worse. He used Maitland's name to entice her to a meeting and then compromised her to the point where she was left with no choice but to marry Maitland's father. Does that sound familiar?”

That is what had happened to Marisa, but Maitland did the honorable thing and asked for her hand. “Did Maitland not step up to protect her? If he loved her, surely he was the alternative, her savior.”

“She would not marry Maitland. She married the father. I do not understand why, you'll have to ask her.”

Marisa's face heated. She was not about to do that. Suddenly the idea of a beautiful woman sharing her husband's house for years, a woman he had loved, filled her with dread. Had she also shared his bed? Was he still in love with her?

“Maitland's father died a month after the wedding and she has remained at the estate ever since. She already had a child from her marriage with the baron, and she bore a child from her marriage to the late duke. I don't mean to hurt you but rather prepare you. The rumor is that Maitland and Priscilla are, and have always been, lovers, even before the death of Maitland's father. The rumor is that the daughter could be his, and that is why a woman as beautiful as Priscilla has never remarried.”

No wonder Maitland was so determined to do the honorable thing and wed Marisa; he'd had to watch Priscilla marry a cad. “I wonder, if these rumors are true, why he has never married her?”

“That's something you need to ask your husband and why I don't believe the rumors of an affair.”

If the child was Maitland's, he was too honorable not to have married Priscilla. However, that did not mean they were not having an affair or had not had an affair. She rubbed her temples. This was so confusing.

“Don't make my mistake; don't hide your feelings. It's too late for me, but it's not for you. Talk with your husband and start your marriage on truth, not innuendo.”

Sound advice. Advice was easy to give but far harder to follow. Maitland was still virtually a stranger, and to her surprise Marisa was finding that where courage was concerned, she lacked it when it came to confronting her husband. She wasn't scared of him, merely intimidated. He exuded confidence and influence, whereas
she
was a young woman with a lot to learn. Look how easily Rutherford had fooled her.

Quite frankly, this experience had shattered her self-confidence. How did one weed through the lies and recognize the truth? Could she trust any man's good character?

Sebastian trusted Maitland, so perhaps she should too. She needed to talk with her brother. He would tell her the truth about these rumors.

“Thank you, Rose, for sharing your confidences with me. I am not really sure how to navigate the waters. I almost feel as if I'm drowning. I have to take over the running of his homes, appear to be happy in my rushed marriage, and try and understand my husband, who is not the most demonstrative man.”

Rose stood and held out her arm. “Come on. Let's face the
ton
together. We duchesses must stay together. Perhaps I can help you demystify married life with His Grace, while you can help me regain a semblance of a reputation.”

Marisa stood and linked arms with her new friend. “I'd like that. You have been in my situation, married off to a man you did not know or love.” As they strolled into the ballroom, she added, “Besides, any friend of Portia's is a friend of mine.”

Beatrice was waving at them from farther into the room. The ladies made their way toward her, chatting, purposely ignoring the stares gathering around them like buzzing bees at a hive. The bees made lots of noise, but luckily the ladies received no stings—as of yet.

“Hello, Rose,” Beatrice offered, as she came to meet them, before quickly turning a scowl on Marisa. “I've been looking everywhere for you. Helen said you'd been out on the terrace together with a group of acquaintances, and then when she looked for you, you were gone. She's frantic with worry, and she's gone to fetch Sebastian and the men.”

“I'm sorry. I got detained outside—”

“By whom? Are you hurt?” Strong hands began feeling up her arms. Marisa glowed inside at her husband's obvious concern.

Maitland, accompanied by Sebastian, moved protectively around her. For once he looked harassed, and Sebastian's face was also full of concern. Lord Cumberland suddenly appeared at Rose's side, and they exchanged a brief look.

“Her Grace came to my assistance when I turned my ankle outside in the garden,” Rose proclaimed rather loudly, before lowering her voice to a whisper and adding, “Perhaps we should take this discussion someplace with more privacy. Ears and eyes are watching.”

The men nodded and Marisa gave Maitland her arm. Conversing casually, the group moved toward the vacant supper room. Once inside, Maitland ensured no one could overhear them and then raised an imperious eyebrow that all but said “Speak.”

“Lord Rutherford made a nuisance of himself” was all Marisa was going to say about the incident.

“A little more than a nuisance, Your Grace,” Lord Cumberland offered. “If I hadn't come along when I did…”

She inwardly cursed. This was exactly what she didn't want revealed.

“Would you see my wife home, please, Sebastian?”

“Of course. Come, Marisa, Helen, and Beatrice. It's time we left.” Sebastian rounded on her, but she was not leaving.

Coldness soaked into her bones. “Why can't you see me home?” she asked Maitland.

His mouth merely firmed. “Go home with your brother.”

She placed her hand on his arm. “There is no need to further this incident. Lord Cumberland made sure Rutherford will not be stupid enough to come near me again. Please, for the sake of my reputation and in order to starve the gossips regarding our marriage, can you let this pass?”

She could feel the muscles in his arm vibrate with tension.

“She's right. We don't need any more attention. In fact, if anyone does talk, it would be better for our other plan if they thought you not interested in protecting her. Not interested in your wife at all,” offered Arend.

This time she saw Maitland's fists clench at his sides.

“Hold on,” Sebastian said, rounding on Arend. “What other plan?”

Marisa could have kissed Arend, for here they were, half an hour later, ensconced in her drawing room, her skirmish with Rutherford completely forgotten. Sebastian's determination to learn about this plan of Arend's meant they needed to decamp to home. The only disquiet was Maitland's words to her as they entered their carriage.

“I will not forget this. My meeting with Rutherford is merely postponed.”

Helen had also been none too pleased to be dropped at home, while Sebastian, Beatrice, Arend, and Hadley accompanied Marisa and Maitland home.

She had no idea of the details of any plan. If this was about catching their enemy, then Maitland had promised she would not be excluded. Beatrice was allowed to be here, so if Maitland thought to exclude her, he could go jump.

While Maitland furnished the men with whiskey, Marisa organized a tea tray.

Once everyone was comfortable, Hadley broke the strain by stating, “If Arend and Maitland have discussed a plan, I'm certainly not in the know. Since when are we concocting plans without everyone's involvement?”

“That's my fault, I'm afraid,” Maitland answered. He looked at him and added, “I am still considering Arend's suggestion before committing, so there was nothing to share.”

Sebastian looked between the two men, and Marisa recognized that look. “Then there must be danger in this plan.”

“There is danger in any plan,” Arend insisted.

Her brother responded, “The question is, danger to whom?” Arend could not help it. He looked directly at Marisa, and Sebastian half rose from his chair. “Oh, no. I put my foot down.” Beatrice pushed him back into his seat.

“It is not your place to object.” Maitland, who looked at Marisa in surprise, parroted her words. “It's not your place either,” she added to her husband.

Maitland ignored her comment completely, turning to Hadley. “Arend has suggested a way to pry Angelo's mouth open. I agree with Arend. Angelo is up to something. We have proof he is undertaking his own inquiries; the only logical reason is to gain information for his own advantage. That makes him a danger to us and to himself. He'll also become a target—”

Arend interrupted. “We cannot let that happen.”

“So what is your idea?” Hadley asked.

Arend answered. “Angelo values only one thing: money. It would not surprise me if he were blackmailing some of the peerage frequenting his club. The Top Hat is discreet and small. The wealth I saw on display did not come from the membership fees and gambling alone. He is not to be trusted.”

Sebastian made a sound of relief. “You're going to use Maitland's skill at cards.”

Marisa looked at her husband. Maitland was renowned as a proficient card player, but he very rarely played. His ability to easily memorize numbers and cards meant he did not view his participation as fair.

Arend uncrossed his booted feet and sat up. “Exactly. I suggest Angelo be made to suffer some serious losses. If we can break the house, he'll be in our debt, and suddenly we have control. We can force him to talk.”

“Clever,” Hadley said, nodding.

“He'll not let Maitland near his tables, unless Angelo knows the house cheats.”

Sebastian was right. “Then it's just as well that most, if not all, houses of ill repute cheat,” Arend calmly replied. “Maitland will be prepared for that.”

“He'll still be suspicious of Maitland. Angelo is aware of who the Libertine Scholars are,” Sebastian insisted.

With an exasperated sigh, Arend said, “That is why I have developed a plan. I'm just waiting for Maitland's response.”

Marisa finally found her voice. “May I learn what this plan is?”

“Hear, hear, Marisa.” Beatrice beamed at her.

Maitland cleared his throat. “Arend has suggested that I use the uncertainty about my life to play a role.”

She didn't understand. “What role?”

Beatrice gasped. “I don't think that's a good idea. It's illegal…”

“I'm still confused.”

“I don't think we should discuss this in front of the women,” Sebastian said.

“Oh, for goodness' sake” was Beatrice's reply.

Arend noted Marisa's confused look and took pity on her. “The Top Hat caters for exclusive tastes. Men who like sex with men.”

“Really, Arend.” Sebastian stood and began to pace the room. “I know rumors swirl around Maitland because he's never kept a mistress in town, and then there is P—. But I doubt Angelo would be fooled for one minute that his grace prefers the company of men.” He sent a scowl as dark as thunderclouds in Arend's direction.

“I didn't say it would happen overnight. I thought now that His Grace is married, if he became more open in his preferences, Angelo might be fooled.”

“Arend, that's not all who might be fooled. The gossips might believe they were right all along and you”—he pointed at Maitland—“really do have unusual tastes.”