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“Your mother should be shot.”

“It isn’t true?”

“No, well, perhaps a bit of it. Why the devil do you think Glenda is always leaving her breasts very nearly naked? No, don’t struggle anymore. I’m trying to keep some of my weight off you. If you try to hurt me more, I’ll flatten you. Do you want to know what else Glenda does? She stares at a man’s crotch. My crotch has been stared at more times by your sister than any other crotch in Baltimore, so don’t go on and on about how men are the predators, always on the lookout for new females.”

“Is my mama wrong?”

“Sometimes.” He pressed himself hard against her simply because he couldn’t seem to help himself. “Where is the damned bell cord?”

She punched him in the jaw, not all that hard, but hard enough to get his attention. He reared back, managed to grab her arms, and pinned them to her sides. “It does no good to ruin you in this obvious sort of way if there isn’t someone to catch us at it. Damn, where is that bell cord?”

“I fancy, James, that you are no longer in need of one. I am here. Mr. Badger is here. Mr. Sampson and Maggie are here as well. We are pleased.”

Jessie looked up to see them closing in a circle around her, all smiling and nodding with satisfaction.

“You may get off her now, James,” Badger said. “The deed has been done.”

“I don’t think she’s properly ruined yet,” James said. “Could one of you fetch the Duchess or his lordship?”

“I will bring both of them,” Sampson said. “Remain as you are, James. I will return shortly and it will be done.”

“I can’t believe all of you are just standing around letting James lie on top of me. He’s kissed me and even tried to stick

his tongue in my mouth. Why aren’t you doing anything?”

“We are doing something,” Badger said, a sweet smile on that ugly face of his. “And I’ve prepared some delicious crimped cod and oyster sauce for our celebration dinner.”

“I tasted it,” Maggie said, tapping one lovely violet slipper against the Aubusson carpet. “Mr. Badger, you have outdone yourself again.”

“James, damn you, let me up!”

“Jessie, your language isn’t what your soon-to-be husband would appreciate,” Maggie said, twitching her lovely violet satin gown away from James’s boot. “My Glenroyale—that’s Mr. Sampson’s first name—says that an occasional explicative, uttered in moments of extreme excitement, is acceptable, but this isn’t one of those times.”

“No, it isn’t, Maggie,” Spears said. “Ah, I do believe I hear them all coming. Perhaps you’d best improve upon your current tableau, James.”

James grinned down at Jessie, then kissed her closed mouth. He was still kissing her with mounting enthusiasm when the Duchess and Marcus strode through the door on Sampson’s heels.

“Well,” the Duchess said, coming to make up part of the circle surrounding the pair on the carpet. “James, dear, I’m not all that certain that Jessie is still breathing.”

“Let your mouth up a bit, James,” Marcus said, coming down on his haunches. “I remember I had to teach the Duchess how to kiss properly. It took a while, but she’s fairly proficient at it now. Before, though, she turned quite blue in the face, just as blue as Jessie’s face is now.”

James raised himself up on his elbows, still looking down at her. “Well, Jessie, are you now sufficiently ruined?”

“I’ll kill you, James. This is horribly embarrassing.”

“She was breathing, Marcus,” James said, and lowered his head again. She tried to get away from him, but he finally found her mouth and stayed there.

“It does appear she’s breathing through her nose,” Badger said. “We all told James that Jessie’s a good sort,” he added to the Duchess. “We assured him that she’d make him a fine wife.”

Jessie turned blue, not from want of air, but from rage. She began to struggle, catching James by surprise, truth be told. He was so busy enjoying the taste of her that he’d momentarily forgotten what he was doing. She managed to get one arm free and box his left ear. He yowled and fell off of her.

She immediately bounced to her feet, staring down at him, shaking her fist, her foot raised to strike him, but she thought better of it at the last minute and yelled, “You wretched liar! You told me that they hadn’t talked to you about marrying me. They nailed you, didn’t they? Played on your guilt, made me sound like a sorry, pathetic female who would probably wander off and dive from a cliff. Damn you, James, you told me it was all your idea.”

“Oh dear,” Badger said. “I’m very sorry, James. An unwary tongue isn’t what this situation required. I do hope my poor crimped cod and oyster sauce isn’t in jeopardy now.”

“The road to true love shouldn’t be strewn with rose petals,” Maggie said. “Just look at his lordship and the Duchess.”

“I would have preferred just one or two rose petals, Maggie,” the Duchess said, to which her husband replied, “That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, Duchess. I can see you walking across the bedchamber to me, your white feet all bare, as well as the rest of you, the soles being caressed by some of Maggie’s petals. What do you think?”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Legacy Historical