Page 48 of Venus in Disguise

Mau made a loud, and to Leo’s ear, somewhat derisive sound of complaint. Leo looked at the cat, who was sitting at his feet, glaring up at him with a look of pitying contempt.

“I know,” Leo muttered. “Not my finest hour, was it? You don’t need to tell me. I messed up. Big surprise.”

Leo crouched down and Mau leapt nimbly back onto his shoulders. The great cat made a rumbling sound and pushed his head against Leo’s.

“Of course I’m not giving up,” Leo said crossly. “I’m not that hopeless. I knew it would be hard.”

Mau licked his cheek with a sandpaper tongue and Leo snorted.

“All right, I hoped she’d fall into my arms, and we’d live happily ever after. I admit it. Are you happy now? Instead, I’ve made a great pillock of myself and scared her half to death. Well done me. Lord, I need a drink.”

Mau made another sound of protest and Leo sighed. “Fine. Dinner for you first, but then I need a drink. Yes, just one. I know, I know, getting foxed is hardly going to help my case, there’s no need to tell me.”

Leo turned and then halted as he discovered a slightly bewildered footman staring at him in alarm.

“Is there anything amiss, Mr Hunt?” he asked Leo, looking nervously around the room to discover who Leo had been talking to.

“No, nothing at all. I’m going to my room. The usual one, is it?”

“Yes, Mr Hunt. Your bags have been taken up already.”

“Excellent, sent me up something to eat, would you? Nothing fancy, bread and cheese will suffice, oh, and a plate of sardines if you would.”

The footman glanced at Mau somewhat dubiously. “Er… yes, Mr Hunt. Will there be anything else?”

“Yes, a glass of brandy.”

“Shall I send the bottle up, sir?”

Leo hesitated and sent Mau a pained look before letting out a sigh. “No, just the glass.”

“Very good, sir,” the footman said, and hurried away.

“Happy now?” Leo asked Mau irritably and made his way up the stairs.

Narcissa stretched languidly as she woke from a profoundly dreamless sleep. Her body felt oddly heavy, so thoroughly relaxed she did not wish to open her eyes. Instead, she burrowed deeper into the warmth of the bed, allowing her mind to drift as it would. Slowly, she remembered the events of the previous days, the exhaustion of the endless ride from Hardacre, not daring to sleep other than for an hour snatched here or there whilst she rested the horse. The entire journey had been fraught with anxiety as she feared someone would discover she was a girl out in the world alone. It had been a reckless thing to do, and yet her bravery had been rewarded, for she was here, in Ash’s bed, and—

“Oh!”

She blinked awake, suddenly not in the least sleepy as she remembered the events of last night, the way Ash had touched her and made her body sing like she was some exotic instrument only he knew how to play.

Turning, she admitted herself disappointed to discover he was no longer in bed with her, though the delicious aroma of the massage oil blended with the faint citrusy scent of him that lingered on the sheets. Burying her nose in the pillow, she breathed it in, and wondered how she could look him in the eye today, after what he had done to her, after how she had reacted to it. How terribly shocking. And then to fall asleep!

The door to the bedroom swung open, and Mrs Fenchurch bustled in, hefting a tray.

“Good morning, my lady. I’ve brought you a nice breakfast. There’s coddled eggs and hot buttered toast, and I brought you some of my bramble jelly. Mr Anson’s favourite, that is. Plus a pot of tea. I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer chocolate or not, but I’m happy to bring you a cup if you fancy it. Is that to your liking?”

“Oh, it sounds splendid,” Narcissa said gleefully, only now realising how famished she was. She sat up in bed, smoothing the covers as Mrs Fenchurch settled the tray across her lap. “Where is Mr Anson?” she asked, avoiding the housekeeper’s too knowing gaze.

“He’s readying himself for your nuptials, my lady.”

Narcissa nodded, smiling to herself until a thought occurred to her. “Good heavens!” she exclaimed. “Whatever am I to wear?”

Mrs Fenchurch returned a smug smile. “That’s all in hand. Don’t you fret. His lordship sent word to a friend of his, Lady Latimer. A happily married lady she is too, so don’t go fretting over that,” she added hastily, as Narcissa’s face fell. “He reckoned you were not so different in size, though she’s a fair bit taller. Anyway, he asked if she might lend you a gown. Well, she’s a dear creature, so naturally she did just as he asked at once. It arrived first thing this morning and I’ve been shaking out any creases for you. Pretty it is, too, a lovely bright blue with a matching pardessus all trimmed with swansdown. I’ll bring it up in a moment. I don’t doubt he’ll take you shopping for new things as soon as he can. His sister always relies upon his advice, you know. He’s got a keen eye for what suits a lady, so she says.”

“He thinks of everything,” Narcissa said ruefully.

Mrs Fenchurch snorted at that. “No, he don’t, for he’s a man, but he’s not as hopeless as many when it comes to arranging things how a lady might like them. Mind, he’s had a deal of practice,” she added, sotto voce.