As for Marietta, Aphrodite was not certain that she really knew just what she was asking. It was true that she had caused herself a great deal of grief by falling under the spell of the scoundrel Gerard Jones, but setting herself forever beyond her comfortable and familiar world might not be the best answer. Lady Greentree would be saddened and disappointed when she discovered Marietta’s ambitions—as liberal as that lady was, Aphrodite could not imagine her applauding her daughter’s choice of profession. Still, if Marietta truly wanted to be a courtesan, then what could Aphrodite do but help her to achieve her aim?
Aphrodite smiled again and tapped her finger against her cheek. Well, she could see that Marietta found such a life not to her taste after all. There were alternatives to saying no, which had been Aphrodite’s first response, and as she was very much aware that Marietta was not a girl to give up easily, she had not wanted her daughter to feel desperate. Who knew what she might do, if she were pushed into a corner? Better if she believed that Aphrodite was helping her, as she was, just not in the manner Marietta was expecting.
“What amuses you?”
“My daughter, Jemmy. She’s very clever, don’t you think?”
“She’s a minx, my love.”
Aphrodite brushed his rough cheek with her fingertip. “I was a minx, too, and it did not harm me.”
“It caused us both a lot of grief.”
Her breath caught. “Oh Jemmy, I wish—”
But Jemmy Dobson hushed her and took her in his arms. “I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories. Go and see your grandson. I’ll watch the club for you, and keep an eye on your minx of a daughter.”
Aphrodite buried her face in his coat. “She wants to be a courtesan,” she sighed.
Dobson chuckled in surprise. “Does she now? Well, she’s your daughter, isn’t she? She’ll follow her own head and her own heart. Just keep her out of too much trouble, my love, and all will be well.
It was with Vivianna.”
“Yes, you’re right. Vivianna turned out well.” Aphrodite nodded, and drew away to put the finishing touches to her outfit. “There, what do you think? Will I bring shame upon the house of Montegomery?”
Jemmy smiled, his hard gray eyes full of love. “You are a jewel, Aphrodite, beyond price.”
It was close to dawn when Max woke at last. Marietta, who had been dozing off and on as she kept watch from her chair, heard him murmuring, and the swish and slide of the bedclothes as he moved restlessly beneath them.
She jumped up, her legs leaden with weariness, her head dizzy, and stumbled to the side of the bed.
He was shifting about but in an aimless sort of way, as if he didn’t know where he was. Marietta put a hand on his shoulder and felt hot, bare skin. “Hush,” she said gently, leaning closer. “You’re safe, Max. You were hurt, but you’re safe now.”
The sound of her voice seemed to agitate him more and he tried to sit up. The quilt slipped to his waist, and Marietta saw that he was indeed naked. Broad chested, his tawny skin dusted with dark hair, his stomach flat and hard. She pressed her palms against his shoulders to try and push him back down again, but the feel of him, the heat of him, confused her. Even as her voice murmured reassurance, her mind was focused on something else.
For instance, that he looked and felt so completely different from her, and those differences were fascinating. He had flat aureoles, slightly darker than his chest, and when she accidentally brushed over them his nipples turned tighter and harder. She wanted to do it again. She wanted to lean down and put her mouth to his skin and see what it tasted like. The unfamiliar thoughts shocked her into the realization that once again she was allowing the courtesan to overpower the nurse.
“Please, Max. Back to bed,” she begged, as much for her own sake as his.
But she wasn’t strong enough to force Max back into the bed, and neither was he paying attention to her coaxing. Now he swung one leg over the side of the mattress, taking her by surprise. Marietta’s eyes widened as they traveled the length of that bare leg, hard with muscle. Luckily the bedclothes had tangled around his hips, otherwise Marietta would have seen far more of Max than he would want her to, she was sure. Although, she thought, as she continued to struggle with him, it wouldn’t be long before the covers were tugged free. Her gaze skittered away from the dark hair low on his belly.
“Max!” Her voice high and panicked. “Stop it right now!”
He seemed to hear her at last. He stopped pushing against her and his brown eyes opened and fixed on hers. His hair was standing on end, and he looked rumpled and flushed. And Marietta’s stomach fluttered in a way it never had before. Nerves, or was it…could it be the desire that Aphrodite was just speaking about?
“Wha’?” He blinked at her. “’Etta?”
“Yes, it’s Marietta,” she said it as if she were in charge of the situation. “Now go back to bed. You’re tired and you need your rest. You can’t possibly get up yet. Back to bed, Max, and back to sleep.”
He stared at her for a while—as though it took that long for her words to find their way down a long tunnel and into his brain—and then, abruptly, he lay down.
There was only one problem.
Max’s leg was still hanging outside the bedclothes. With a groan, Marietta wrapped her hands around his knee, struggling to lift his leg. She tugged but could barely move it. She reached down to his foot and pulled at that, but he simply arched his toes, as though they were ticklish. The sound of the bed creaking made her look up to find his brown eyes only inches from her own. Max had raised his head from the pillows, and he was clearly puzzled by her actions.
“Miss Greentree? What are you doing?” he said, surprisingly lucid.
Marietta released his foot and jumped back as if she had been bitten. “You were restless. I was trying to…to…”