Mistress (32 page)

“Iphiginia Bright is just the right age for me.” Marcus propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. “She is from a good family. She is respectable. You may put the word about that anyone who disagrees with me is free to do so over a pair of dueling pistols.”

“Damn it to hell, Marcus, you cannot mean that.”

“I find your objections to my forthcoming marriage every bit as irritating as you found mine to yours.”

“But this is a different matter entirely.”

“No, it is not.”

“Good Lord, the woman has bewitched you.”

“Do you think so?” Marcus considered that. “As a man of science, I have never believed in witchcraft.”

Bennet flushed with outrage. “I would not have believed this if I had not seen it with my own eyes.”

“Seeing is believing. And that, my dear brother, is the essence of sound scientific investigation. Now that you have, indeed, witnessed my decision to marry, you may believe it. And you will keep silent about it for the time being.”

“You’ve gone mad. Marcus, you’ve inherited an earldom. You have certain responsibilities and duties to the tide. You cannot allow passion to rule your actions.”

Marcus started to smile. “I beg your pardon? Would you care to repeat that? Surely I did not hear what I thought I heard. Surely my brother the romantic poet did not just advise me to turn my back on my passions.”

Bennet’s mouth tightened. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do. You wish me to ignore my emotions and be guided by rational thought. You sound exactly as I must have sounded when I told you not to be swept off your feet by your feelings for Juliana Dorchester.”

“My connection with Juliana is vastly different.”

“No, it is not.” Marcus gave him a hard look. “You will bear in mind that I do not wish this news to be spread about until I am ready to make a formal announcement.”

“Do not concern yourself on that point,” Bennet said furiously. “I am not about to humiliate either of us by breathing so much as a word about a possible marriage between you and Mrs. Bright.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“It is too bloody dreadful to even contemplate, let alone to discuss in public.” Bennet stalked toward the
door. “I shall pray that you come to your senses before you do anything so rash as to send word to the papers.”

“I would not hold my breath if I were you.”

“Damn it, this is abominable.” Bennet yanked open the door. He turned to glance over his shoulder. “She has done something to your brain, that’s what it is. I can only hope that you will recover from this strange fever before it is too late.”

“You were the one who feared I might become an automaton if I did not marry soon.”

“Mrs. Bright was definitely not what I had in mind as a bride for you.” Bennet stomped out into the hall and slammed the door.

Marcus sat quietly for a while. Then he got to his feet and crossed the room to the brandy table. He poured himself another glass and went to stand at the window.

He had done it, he thought. He had taken Iphiginia’s advice and violated several of his own rules in the process.
Never explain, never discuss the past, never alter a decision or retreat from an objective
.

So many rules broken in one night.

Perhaps Bennet was right. Iphiginia did seem to have inspired a sort of fever within his brain.

On the other hand, Marcus thought, he no longer felt as though he were turning into a clockwork man.

T
HE FOLLOWING EVENING
Z
OE SWOOPED DOWN ON
Iphiginia at the Plans’ ball. “I have been looking for you all day, my dear. Didn’t you get the message I had sent ’round?”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Zoe. Apparently it did not reach me,” Iphiginia said placatingly. In point of fact, she had ignored the message that had arrived at the kitchen door earlier that day.

“Have you heard the latest?” Zoe searched her face. “They say that Masters is going to announce his betrothal before the end of the Season.”

“London is always rife with gossip, Aunt Zoe. As a connoisseur of rumors, you know that better than most.” Iphiginia smiled at Herbert, who was forging a path toward her through the throng. “There is a variety of news at the moment. For instance, I heard that Masters has made it clear that his brother is free to choose his own bride without fear of being cut off.”

“Yes, yes, but that hardly matters compared to this other business of his own marriage.” Zoe fixed her with a pointed look. “If it’s the truth, then Masters has broken one of his most firmly held rules.”

“Highly unlikely.” Iphiginia watched Herbert draw closer. He saw her and beamed good-naturedly. He carried a glass in one hand.

“I’m not so certain of that.” Zoe pursed her lips. “There is a title involved, after all. And a great deal of money. Perfectly natural that a man in his position would come to his senses eventually and do his duty. He is only thirty-six, after all. It’s not as though he’s got one foot in the grave.”

“The title can go to his brother.”

“Yes, but it’s not quite the same thing as having an heir of one’s blood, is it? It was bound to come to this, I suppose. But I am so sorry for you, my dear. I know it must be very painful. It’s been obvious for days that you’ve developed a tendre for the man. What are you going to do?”

“Nothing, for the moment.” Iphiginia turned to Herbert, who had finally reached them. “Ah, some lemonade. I need it. Thank you, Herbert. You are always so thoughtful.”

“My pleasure. Whew. What a crush.” Herbert gallantly handed her the glass of lemonade and then reached into his pocket for a handkerchief to mop his brow. “Bloody hot in here, is it not?”

“It is a trifle warm.” Iphiginia took a sip of lemonade.

Herbert folded his handkerchief. “Evening, Lady Guthrie. Sorry, didn’t see you earlier or I would have brought you a glass also.”

“Quite all right. I just finished some champagne. Iphiginia and I were discussing the rumors of Masters’s forthcoming betrothal.”

“Aunt Zoe, please,” Iphiginia murmured. “I think we’ve exhausted the subject.”

“Heard all about it at my club,” Herbert said helpfully. “The betting books are filling up all over Town. Everyone’s taking a flier on this one.”

Zoe frowned. “People are attempting to guess who the bride will be?”

“Yes.” Herbert slid Iphiginia an embarrassed glance. “No one’s got a clue. Lot of money on the Chumley chit and a good deal on Elizabeth Anderson, though. Both in their first Seasons. Quite lovely. Good families. Spotless reputations.”

Iphiginia was keenly aware of Herbert’s increasing discomfort and her aunt’s worried gaze. She summoned up a serene smile. “If there is one thing everyone should have learned about Masters by now, it is that there is very little point in attempting to second-guess him.”

“Man o’ mystery, right enough,” Herbert agreed quickly. “Everyone knows that. Enigma. No telling what’s going on in his brain.”

“It cannot be a complete secret,” Zoe said. “Someone other than Masters must know the truth about this situation. After all, there is another party involved.”

“You mean the bride?” Herbert’s brows bounced up and down several times. “If Masters has sworn her and her family to secrecy until he’s ready to announce the engagement, you can be certain they’ll keep mum. Wouldn’t dare defy his edict. Not if they want to pull off the match of the Season.”

“I suppose not,” Zoe admitted. “Masters’s rules.”

“Precisely.” Herbert smiled at Iphiginia. “I say, Mrs. Bright, would you care to dance?”

“Yes, thank you, Herbert.” Anything to terminate the discussion of Marcus’s wedding plans, Iphiginia thought. She set her glass down on a passing tray.

Herbert took her arm and led her out onto the floor just as the musicians began to play a waltz. He regarded Iphiginia with an anxious expression as he took her very decorously into his arms.

“I say, is this business of Masters’s engagement oversetting you, my dear?”

“Not in the least,” Iphiginia said firmly. “Masters and I are very close friends, as you know. I can assure you that the gossip about an engagement is just that. Gossip.”

“Forgive me, but I am also your friend, Iphiginia,”
Herbert said gently. “I feel you and I are very much alike in some ways. And while I realize that I do not enjoy the sort of intimate connection with you that Masters does, I am deeply concerned for you.”

“That is very kind of you. But there is no need.”

“The thing is, the man is known to be quite ruthless, m’dear. He is perfectly capable of marrying this young innocent he’s selected to be his wife and then continue to maintain a liaison with you on the side.”

“Do not fret.”

“Surely you will not countenance such a situation?” Herbert asked rather desperately. “It would be intolerable for a proud, spirited female such as yourself. It would mean that you would have to share him with his wife.”

Iphiginia gave him a repressive look. “One always shares one’s friends with other people, Herbert.”

“Damn it all, he’s your paramour, not your friend. There’s a world of difference.”

“That is quite enough, Herbert.”

Herbert turned a dark shade of red. “I did not mean to intrude, but everyone knows about your association with Masters.”

“Do they?”

“Well, of course they do. Never been any secret. Iphiginia, I feel that I must be blunt. As your true and devoted friend, I must ask that you consider your future course of action quite carefully. You are the most elegant, most gracious, most intelligent, most admirable woman it has ever been my privilege to meet.”

“Why, thank you, Herbert.” Iphiginia was touched by the gallant declaration. “That is very kind of you.”

“It is because you are so very estimable, such a paragon, that I feel I must urge you to think about your future. It is one thing to have an, er, exclusive connection with a powerful man such as Masters. Quite another to be kept as a bit of fluff on the side.”

“A bit of fluff?” Iphiginia came to a halt in the middle of the floor.

Herbert gazed at her helplessly. “Masters will never be able to offer you marriage, madam. Everyone knows that if he has determined to violate his most cardinal rule in order to remarry, he will choose some young innocent to bear his heirs. It’s the expected thing.”

“You go too far, Herbert. You know that I do not discuss the details of my relationship with Masters with anyone.” Iphiginia was aware of the covert stares she, and Herbert were receiving from the other dancers.

“I did not mean to offend you, madam.” Herbert looked thoroughly abashed. He cast an embarrassed glance around at the other couples and then took Iphiginia’s arm. He hastily escorted her off the floor. “I pray that you will forgive me.”

“Of course.”

“I spoke out of turn. But I did so only because I am so deeply concerned about you.”

“I know, Herbert.” She patted his arm. “But I am not a young innocent. I am a woman of the world and I am quite capable of looking after myself.”

“If you say so.” Herbert withdrew his handkerchief again and dabbed at the beads of sweat on his brow. “You’re a brave female, m’dear. You will always have my greatest admiration. Please remember that if there is ever any way in which I can be of service, you must not hesitate to call upon me.”

“Thank you, Herbert.” She smiled at him. “Pray, excuse me. I must have a word with someone who just came in.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

Herbert stuffed the crumpled handkerchief back into his pocket. Iphiginia could feel his wistful gaze resting on her as she made her way across the crowded room.

She knew that Herbert meant to be kind and that her aunt wanted to protect her from heartache, but neither of them knew the real truth. Iphiginia did not want to even attempt to explain the bizarre situation in which she found herself.

Curious eyes, most politely averted or hidden behind discreetly held fans, watched her as she headed toward the French doors. Iphiginia knew that the gossip about Masters’s forthcoming engagement had crested into a tidal wave that had inundated Society.

Everyone was talking about her once more, just as they had a few weeks ago when she had descended on the Polite World. But this time they were speculating on her fate.

Iphiginia knew that no one expected Marcus to give up his mistress. It was accepted by one and all that he could and would have both a paramour and a suitable wife.

The real question as far as the Polite World was concerned was whether or not his unpredictable, independent mistress would abandon him rather than share him with a bride.

Society was titillated by the current developments, but it was not shocked. The only thing that could really stun the haute monde would be to discover that the woman Masters intended to wed was his mistress.

The
ton
would be even more astounded to learn that she had no intention of marrying him.

But no one was even speculating on such bizarre possibilities because, as usual, Society was two steps behind the notorious Earl of Masters.

Iphiginia slipped through the open doors and escaped to the cool darkness of the terrace. A handful of other people had drifted outside. They glanced at her as she emerged from the ballroom.

Iphiginia ignored the interested gazes and sought the seclusion of the far corner of the terrace. She needed a few moments of privacy. It had been a trying day and an even more trying evening.

The sound of a footstep behind her and the clearing of a masculine throat told Iphiginia that she no longer had this section of the terrace to herself.

“Mrs. Bright?” Bennet said in a very low voice.

Iphiginia turned slowly to face him. She summoned up a smile. “Good evening, Mr. Cloud.”

“I saw you come out here.” Bennet glanced awkwardly toward the brilliantly lit ballroom. Then he looked back at her. He squared his shoulders and took a resolute breath. The expression on his face was one of stern determination.

“You remind me of your brother when you do that,” Iphiginia said dryly.

Bennet scowled. “When I do what?”