That evening Victoria had no need to worry about anything. Rafael was so very hungry for her that no sooner had they enclosed themselves in the huge bed than he was yanking up her nightgown, his hands and mouth frantic and urgent on her body and mouth. Her own need was just as great and their mating was wild and quickly done. She did remember, however, to put her nightgown back on before she fell asleep in her husband’s arms.
And, of course, she was up before him the following morning. It was Friday, the day of the ball. Hectic, bordering on bedlam, she was to think many times during the day.
At precisely seven o’clock that evening she was gowned at last and sitting in front of her dressing table.
“You look exquisite.”
Victoria looked at her husband’s reflection in her mirror. He himself looked beautiful, she thought, and said it aloud. He leaned over and kissed her shoulders. “All mine,” he said, more to himself than to her, his eyes intent on her shoulders. “Cream silk and white velvet. Now don’t move. I have something for you”
He drew a pink-velvet-lined box from his pocket and handed it to her.
Slowly Victoria opened the jeweler’s box. It was a string of beautifully matched pearls, nearly as pink as the velvet upon which they lay. She sucked in her breath. “Oh.”
“Lovely with the cream silk, don’t you think?”
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I’ve never even owned any jewelry save the broach and ring my mother left me.”
Her matter-of-fact words made him close his eyes a moment. He felt his guts twist with anger at Damien and Elaine, and tenderness. Nonsense, he told himself, and said quickly, his voice as leering as his expression was now, “Equally as lovely with your white-velvet hide, I think.”
“You’re dealing in fantasy now, Rafael. White velvet, indeed.”
He merely smiled and fastened the pearls about her neck. She stared at herself, then at him and his intent expression. He was such a beautiful man, warm and giving, not cruel like his brother.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you very much.”
“You, my beautiful bride, will be the most enviable lady at this blasted ball.”
“What you really mean to say is that the other ladies will want to tear my hair out once they see you.”
“You think so?” He was preening at the thought, and she laughed at him.
But what he was really thinking as he walked beside her down the wide staircase was how easily he would manage to be mistaken for his twin.
19
I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man.
—SHAKESPEARE
Johnny Tregonnet, a wastrel and a greedy little snitch since the age of eight years old, tossed down his third glass of brandy and slapped Rafael on the shoulder one more time.
“So long, old fellow! Glad you’re home, yes, indeed. Another brandy!”
Rafael had no doubt that Johnny was just the sort of fool to be involved with the Hellfire Club riffraff. Yes, just the sort of bastard to rape children, he added to himself, thinking of poor little Joan Newdowns.
“God, I can’t believe you two! It’s like looking in a bloody mirror.” Johnny glanced swiftly from Rafael to Damien, who stood some twenty feet away speaking to another young aspiring rake
, Charles St. Clement, whose father was a dour, overly stern magistrate.
“I suppose you and Damien are much alike in other ways, huh, Rafe?”
Rafael had always hated the shortening of his name, but he didn’t bother to correct Johnny. He was far too interested in the lecherous tone to discourage his prey. “What do you mean, Johnny? The, ah, ladies?”
Johnny Tregonnet went off on a shout of laughter. “Ladies,” he gasped, nearly choking on his hilarity. “Ladies! Ha, different kinds of petticoats, I tell you. Just because we’re stuck here in Cornwall, Rafael, it doesn’t mean there aren’t enough pleasures for us, I can tell you.”
“Certainly I enjoy all sorts of females,” Rafael said easily, hoping Johnny would keep chatting.
“Of course, you just got yourself leg-shackled. Now, Victoria is quite a little looker, that’s for certain. Keep a husband home at night, she would. David wanted her, if I remember aright, but then nothing came of it.” Johnny paused a moment, swishing the brandy in its snifter. “I remember David muttering that he’d never trust another woman, that they were all . . . Well, never you mind. I suppose that doesn’t matter in the least now.”