Page 50 of The Love Potion
“The duke will be here in an hour to take you to his country estate.”
Zoe glanced at the clock and mentally calculated what she needed to do before he arrived. “I’ll be ready.”
“Are you sure you want Kynthea to go? I can insist she stay here.”
“No, no, I need her to help me.”
“With the love potion? You have it, don’t you? The newest mixture?”
“In my pocket,” Zoe said as she touched the small bottle where it lay heavy against her thigh.
It had been her mother’s suggestion months ago that as soon as she picked a man, she should use a love potion to ensnare him. Zoe had thought it was a joke at first, but when they both decided the duke would be the best option, her mother had repeated the idea of a love potion. Her friend’s daughter had gotten an earl that way, or so she said.
That was how the thing had begun, and now it was a touchstone in which they invested all their hopes and dreams. Zoe wasn’t an idiot. She knew this was a ridiculous idea, but she couldn’t stop herself from smoothing her fingers up and down the vial. Especially since it was her best hope for catching the duke.
Certainly, she knew how to dress pretty. She had a maid who was a great help at that. So long as she smiled and wasn’t obnoxious, her dowry attracted all the gentlemen she could possibly want.
Except for the one she did want.
The duke didn’t need her money, didn’t seem to care about her looks, and was never more than polite to her. She’d tried everything she could think of to bring him up to scratch. She’dflirted, he’d seemed bored. She’d flashed her cleavage, he’d looked vaguely appalled. She’d asked about his interests and had listened as best she could to his fondness for a well-run society, by which he meant well-paid workers who were happy and not rebellious. He also enjoyed the engineering behind canals as it pertained to trade routes.
Why couldn’t he just like horses? Or even dogs? Half of what she knew about horse breeding came from studying dog breeds.
Which was to say that the man was not interested in her. She knew it down to her bones. Fortunately, a duke’s marriage had little to do with interest and everything to do with outside influences. The Crown had already approved their union. If that didn’t sway the man, then she had to use alchemy—the love potion. And if that failed, well, her mother had one more plan.
“I’ve packed a bag for you,” her mother said. “Clean underthings. Your first time can be…well, it can be bad, but clean clothes will help. And Kynthea will be there. She knows what to give you for pain.”
Her mother wanted her to ruin herself with the duke. If that happened, then it would be easy to force his hand.
“We’re not supposed to spend the night,” Zoe began. “It’ll look odd to have brought a bag.”
“Say it’s for the horses. You’re always mixing things for them.”
True.
“Are you sure you don’t want me instead of Kynthea? If thetonhas already labeled her a hussy, I’m not sure her word—”
“The duke is an honorable man. If we… If he…” She swallowed. She’d seen horses mate, and it was not a tender process. She was terrified of what it would be like for her. “He’ll do the right thing.”
“Of course, he will.” Her mother bit her lip. “But maybe if I—”
“I won’t be able to do it if you’re there.” The idea of seducing the duke while her mother paced in the next room horrified her. It would be hard enough with Kynthea nearby, but at least her cousin wouldn’t make a huge dramatic scene after it was done. “Let me do this my way. Please.”
Her mother nodded. “Just so it gets done.”
“It will,” she said as she looked back at her father’s bedroom. “For Papa’s sake, the duke and I will be married as soon as the banns can be read.”
Chapter Sixteen
Kynthea looked ather travelling companions and wondered at their moods. Zoe looked determined, as if she were heading into a race with thousands of pounds riding on the outcome. The duke was thoroughly pleasant, but his expression turned grim when he thought no one was looking. The maid, of course, was completely placid. She was the oldest woman on their staff, kept on out of obligation. Mostly she oversaw the maids and took naps, which was what she was doing now.
As for Kynthea, she had made her decision last night. She’d even spoken with her aunt about leaving their home as soon as she could find a new solution. The lady had been gracious. She understood that none of this was Kynthea’s fault, but she had to think of Zoe’s reputation. She even promised to write a reference letter to help her get a position, on the condition that Kynthea went far away from London. “Spain, perhaps, or better yet, Russia,” were the lady’s exact words. There would be no reference if Kynthea wanted to stay in England. Or in any English-speaking country for that matter.
Clearly the association with her uncle’s family was at an end, and so Kynthea’s choices were to travel as a single woman to a country where she couldn’t even speak the language, or find another path.
But what path was open to her? She had no marketable skills except her poise. And if she were to be damned as a jezebel, then perhaps she ought to become one in truth. A courtesanor a mistress. She knew the basics of copulation. She’d grown up in the country and had discussed horse breeding with Zoe. Plus, she’d learned that her maidenhead would be highly prized, which made her inexperience a natural expectation rather than a detriment. What she didn’t have was the knowledge of who might be interested in her. She hoped that the duke would help her with that. It would be an awkward conversation to be sure, but she had no other male person whom she could ask.
So she dressed with care, then settled into the carriage and hoped for an opportunity to plead her case. This probably wasn’t the usual way things were done, but she’d gotten an extensive education at My Lady’s Apothecary yesterday.
