Page 25 of Drawn to the Duke
As Selina listened to the clipped orders of Lady Saunders, she decided she liked the woman even less. Her poor, cuckolded husband. Selina felt outrage on the gentleman’s behalf.
Then immediately she felt awash with guilt. Not three hours earlier, she’d insinuated herself beneath the bedcovers of a man who was soon to be married.
But Lord Saunders was Chauncy’s friend. Chauncy had double reason to be ashamed of himself.
And yet, Selina couldn’t help herself by offering complete exoneration as fingers of memory stroked her. Just as Chauncy’s fingers had stroked her hours before.
She supposed men of high standing were used to taking whatever they liked and told herself it was a good thing she’d soon leave this house, and Lord Chauncy with his disreputable friends and tendencies. These were people whose morals took account of little more than satisfying themselves, whereas Selina could justify her actions in going to bed with the duke.
Her body flamed at the memory and her mind was drifting in this direction when something in Lord Saunders’ tone made Selina pay attention.
“Did you ascertain from your erstwhile lover his intentions regarding the Rushworth visit?”
What? Lord Saunders knew that his wife had been having an affair with his friend?
“You know I was reluctant to go, Saunders. I told you matters had cooled between us.” Lady Saunders sighed. “No, he’s said nothing about attending Lady Rushworth’s August ball.”
Lady Rushworth’s ball? Selina tensed. She remembered Lord Chauncy had begun writing something about it. She recalled the unfinished sentence in the letter beneath which she’d stolen the paper.
“He has been maddeningly noncommittal.” Lord Saunders sounded peevish. “He promised me?—”
“Do stop, Saunders. I told you it was pushing it too far if I tried to petition him in his bed last night.”
Lord Saunders sighed again. “You should have pushed it when Chauncy was still mad for you and feeling guilty for cuckolding me.”
“Oh, do stop. He feels no guilt. He knows your proclivities, Saunders, and that his philandering is nothing compared withyours. But he is still good for a loan and I will approach him…” She hesitated, then added, “When the time is right.”
Selina could see Lord Saunders’ ankles as he walked to the desk. After a moment, he said in a tone of surprise, “Why have you got this? I say, Boothe has done a more than tolerable job. I could pick out the man in a crowd if I just had this.”
Craning her neck, Selina could see Lord Saunders holding the drawing up to the light while his wife said, “I found it in the shrubbery. It must have blown from his easel in the sharp wind yesterday. Lord knows how, but I saw that madwoman of a wife of his rushing about searching for it.”
“You must return it?—”
“Must I, Saunders?” Lady Saunders’ voice was smooth. “Boothe can make another. He’ll feel too foolish to do anything else.”
Lord Saunders chuckled. “So, you’re not going to forgive his wife for the drawing she did of your sister. I wish I could have seen it.”
“Best that it be destroyed, Saunders.”
Selina held her breath in the long silence before her husband answered thoughtfully, “Just as you will destroy anyone who thwarts you, Catherine, dearest.”
Selina’s mouth was dry and her breathing sharp by the time the pair left their bedchamber.
She felt indignant, concerned, and outraged.
Cautiously, she dragged herself out from under the bed and went to the desk.
What good fortune that Selina hadn’t, out of pique, taken the original.
Selina returnedto her bedchamber to find Edward in a rage.
“Good God, I’ve been at my wits’ end, not knowing what had become of you and what we are to do!” he cried. “Where have you been…looking like that? You truly do look like a madwoman with your hair not even brushed.”
Selina put her hand to her hair, which had perhaps suffered in her tumbling with Lord Chauncy, followed by her lengthy waiting beneath Lord and Lady Saunders’ bed. It might be disordered, but not more than her thoughts.
She’d planned to tell Edward everything she’d overheard but when she saw that he was concerned only with his reputation, she realised her most important task was furnishing her brother with the object that had brought them here: the drawing of his patron.
“It’s a fair enough likeness,” Edward now said as he examined it. “He’ll be satisfied with it, don’t you think?”
