Daring declarations, p.5
Daring Declarations, page 5
Daniel remained silent. Let Penry get it all out; he’d obviously stewed himself into a frenzy.
“Fine! Don’t answer me but I’ll not leave without telling you this—that boy you disillusioned—he near idolizes you. Has since the Dover match back in oh eight. He was eleven, Dan, eleven when he saw you then. Think, man! As far back as that, Tom wanted to make your acquaintance and his father put him off. I told Everson to bring him around Jackson’s more than once but you know what he said?”
Daniel opened his mouth to explain how he’d already taken care of things but Penry was on a roll that showed no signs of slowing. “Dammit! He said he respected you too much to spring Thomas on you and didn’t want to offend you by asking. Offend you, by God, by asking you to meet his boy!” Penry shoved Cyclops away when a clear line dribbled from the side of his smiling mouth, causing a dark spot to appear near Penry’s knee.
“I was wrong.”
Penry hadn’t heard him, was too caught up in his own ire. “Damn you, Dan. I know how they wronged you—I saw it, lived through watching it, which was deuced bad enough. I cannot imagine how it tore you to pieces. But they’re gone now, Robert and your father. They’re gone. And you’re turning into them!”
His blow delivered, Penry glared at him in the echo of the ticking orreries. Had Daniel been kindling, he knew he would’ve ignited.
Cy barked, filling in the silence.
“Now compose your thoughts.” Penry took a few agitated steps. “You’re not getting rid of me until I hear something sensible from you—and I’m not talking about how you talk, but what you say.”
“I know.” His murmur went unheard because Penry called for Cyclops and tossed a rag to the other side of the room.
Things must be dire indeed if Penry would stoop to playing with his dog. Daniel pushed back from his desk and went to them.
“I know,” he said again, louder. “Agree with everything you say. T-Tom—he’s worse off than I ever was, but in ways that count, he’s b-better. B-because of his family. Because of Everson. I’m jealous.”
“Then go tell him that.” Penry threw the toy again. Cy bounded after it (as much as his lazy hide could bound), thrilled with his new playmate. “If anyone would understand your need for privacy, it’s them.”
He started to tell his friend it was all taken care of, but as it was the first time Penry had ever laid into him—outside the ring—Daniel chose to keep silent. Let Penry think he’d changed Daniel’s mind, convinced him how to proceed.
Lord knew it was flattering to be taken to task by someone who cared. Someone who did it without cruelly cutting words or slashing canes. “I will. Soon.”
Yesterday, in fact, Daniel thought with a secret smile.
Satisfied, Penry nodded. Then he grinned like the devil. “And now to tell you why else I came round—I’ve arranged a little celebration tonight. It’s in your honor though no one else knows.”
“Celebration?” For today’s upcoming speech? “I haven’t d-done anything yet. Who knows if it will b-be successful?”
“As to that, who cares? This is Wylde’s cause. I’m just in on it to annoy the hell out of Bolden.” Cy barked happily when Penry circled the rag over his head before flinging it to the side. “I swear he cheated that time he won my greys off me. For tonight, I’m celebrating you—this is the first time you’ve ventured putting yourself on any public stage, no matter how small, and I’m proud of you. It’s about damn time you quit hiding behind your desk or these planets.” Penry flicked a tiny turquoise Earth that had clicked to a standstill.
When Cy dropped the rag at his feet, Penry bent to toss it again. Straightening, he glanced at his pocket watch. “I really need to— Hell, Eliza’s buck can stew,” he said, coming over to take one of the seats flanking the desk.
Eyes lit with an unholy light, Penry imparted, “I saw fit to organize another shadow play. Know how much you like them. Donaldson found a new female—some chit over from Germany, I think. Must be, goes by the name Fräulein Wunderbar Oberschenkel, if you can believe it.”
Rather than correct his friend (it was Louise who’d favored that particular style of entertainment, not Daniel) and relieved the harangue was over, he walked back to his desk, settling in the companion chair. In front of the desk, not behind it, though he suspected Penry might still be too worked up to notice—only for altogether different reasons now.
Penry was grinning, almost daring Daniel to try and pronounce that mouthful. Wunderbar Oberschenkel? He knew better. “Which means…?”
“Best I can gather, it’s something like Miss Splendid Thighs.”
That brought a much-needed laugh. “What? Does she p-perform tricks with them? Like…pick up…grapes?”
“Now wouldn’t that be something! I haven’t heard any particulars, other than the name is well earned, but I can’t wait to find out. Can you imagine what type of show she must put on?”
Envisioning the possibilities, Daniel’s loins started to grow heavy—but only for half a heartbeat. How could he expose Thea to something so tawdry? In truth, his own interest wasn’t nearly as keen as it would have been a fortnight ago.
He might want to do tawdry things with his pretty mistress, but that didn’t mean he wanted others knowing about them. Didn’t mean he wanted to debauch her in public.
It was one thing if he showed her carnal pleasures beyond the norm; quite another if she learnt them elsewhere. But how to bow out gracefully?
As if he didn’t already have enough weighing on him, the memorized lines in front of him, the lack of Thea tonight, the—
That was it!
Daniel shook his head with feigned regret. “Cannot. Thea’s not available tonight.”
“Not available?” Penry looked incredulous. “Don’t let that stop you! She’s your mistress, man, put her in her place. As to that, Sarah’s off visiting her sister and you can be assured I’ll still be there.”
“To watch?”
When Cy nudged his knee, Penry pushed him away. “Or participate if Fräulein Wunderbar looks as wonderful as her namesake.”
Participate? Daniel frowned. “What of Sarah?”
A snort came from Penry’s direction. “What of her? She’s comely and accommodating and I’ve rewarded her well for it. But it’s not as if she’s my wife. Furnishing that new house of hers set me back a coin or two, I tell you, so she’s got nothing to complain about.”
Cy whined at the loss of his playmate. Daniel snapped his fingers, calling the dog to him.
“I’ve been with her going on four years now. The old prick’s getting peevish…” Penry rubbed his hands together like a lecher. Not an image that sat well with Daniel. “I’ve got to get my turn on the comely fräulein. Just the thought of taking a ride on those splendid thighs…”
Penry kept talking, and with every word, Daniel’s inner disquiet grew. It’s not as if she’s my wife.
Penry’s wife. A woman he left at home so he could ramble about with Sarah…
Sarah, who’d introduced Daniel to Thea.
Daniel sank his fingers in Cy’s slathered-upon jowls, scratched for all he was worth. Loyalty. Shouldn’t it be rewarded?
Loyalty. Faithfulness.
Never would he consider attending such a debauched event on his own—without Thea. To watch, much less participate.
So he declined. Suffered through Penry’s vocal objections and declined again.
Bother it. Penry refused to listen, had some chaw bacon idea that Daniel had to attend or ’twould all be for naught.
“Will. Halt,” Daniel thundered, finally gaining the other man’s silence with his rarely used given name. “G-go. Enjoy. B-but ’twill be without me.”
“Fine,” Penry huffed, heading toward the door with a disparaging shake of his head. “’Tis your loss.”
Damn. This visit might have begun with Penry announcing his displeasure with Daniel, but it was ending the opposite—with Daniel regarding his longtime friend with new eyes.
Had Penry always been this callous toward the women in his life?
Or was Daniel’s relationship with Thea causing him to see things differently?
Though Buttons hadn’t known exactly where Lord Harrison stashed his ladybird, he had known who to ask, and so it was a mere forty minutes later that the two women were shown to a sunny little parlor bedecked with flowers and lemon tarts and an effusively smiling Susan.
Anna was out with Lord Harrison, leaving Susan in place as “Mistress of the Manor” she told them with a laugh as they gingerly took seats on the brocade couch she indicated and just as gingerly divulged the purpose of their visit.
“Really now? You two ladies want me to teach you how to be a mistress?” Thea noticed her H’s were flowing much more smoothly. “If that don’t beat a rug! I was just thinking the other day about writing a pamphlet on that very topic.”
As she spoke, Susan very carefully poured tea for all three of them (Thea was still marveling at being called a lady and being lumped in the same category with Lady Elizabeth, however erroneous).
“’Course, it would help a heap if I knew my letters and could write.” Susan laughed a tad self-consciously. She settled herself upon the remaining chair, with tea in hand and little finger daintily extended.
“I’ll teach you,” Lady Elizabeth promised quickly. “Or pen the pamphlet for you under your direction if you prefer, only please, tell me everything you can about how to be a mistress, a good one. And quickly. I don’t know how much longer his patience will hold out.”
“’E’s not treating you rough, is ’e?” Susan dropped her effort at gentility and did a remarkable impression of a gnarler, barking an alarm. “I don’t ’old with no man treating ’is mistress bad.”
“No! Nay!” Thea’s companion practically shouted in her determination to defend her mate (a good sign, Thea thought). “Nothing such as that, I promise. Losing patience with me…sexually”—Lady Elizabeth whispered the last word as though to speak it at full volume might tarnish her tongue—“not physically. ’Tis simply that I don’t want him turning elsewhere for carnal companionship, not if I can help it.”
Reassured, Susan gulped her tea down to porcelain. With a clack, she returned her cup to its saucer; a clatter and the saucer met the tray. “Can’t make no guarantees you understand, men will be men, but I believe I can help you out much as anyone could.”
“Thank heavens.” Lady Elizabeth placed her untouched tea silently on the tray. “Please, share whatever you will.”
“To keep him from wanting to stray, you must convince him how much you like havin’ carnal relations with him.” Susan latched on to the phrase with a twinkle. “Now some gents are going to ply their plow in multiple pastures no matter how hard you try to lock the gate, but if yours asked you to be his mistress, why ’tis obvious that priggin’ others ain’t in his plans.”
“Ah-ah,” Thea interjected when she heard Lady Elizabeth choke back a gasp. “Mayhap ‘prigging’ isn’t the best term to use in this situation. Have you another descriptor?”
“His tiller doesn’t seek to venture into other pastures, aye? ’E’s content with planting fields close to home. ’Ow’s that?”
Though she thought perhaps Susan was getting her nautical ships, garden plots and masculine shafts confused, Thea didn’t have the heart to correct her, not again. “I think we can all agree that to be a correct assumption.”
“But how do I prevent pasture straying or his tiller drifting elsewhere?” Lady Elizabeth cried in a frustrated tone. “I’ve no notion at all. No understanding of what he expects of me. Especially when more experienced fields lie everywhere.”
“Don’t let that bother you none. ‘Experienced’ might just mean more practiced at falsifying whether he’s any good at it.”
“I don’t quite grasp your meaning.”
As though it were knowledge everyone possessed, Susan explained, “Pretending, Lady Wylde. Really good mistresses know how to feign it with conviction.”
“Feign what?”
“How much you’re enjoying their cock in your cu—”
“Susan!” Thea gave her head a sharp shake, indicating that particular language was well beyond the pale.
Nodding sagely, Susan corrected herself. “Enjoying their penis in your privates.” She glanced at Thea, gauging the suitability of her substitution.
Thea smiled her approval, barely masking a very unladylike laugh.
This was delightful. Horrible that Lady Elizabeth felt the need for such assistance, but a positive delight that Thea was, remarkably, in a position to provide education, even in a roundabout way.
And if she happened to benefit from today’s lesson? Well then, all the better.
“All right then,” Lady Elizabeth said decisively. “Teach me how to fake it. I shall endeavor to be the most convincing mistress in all of England!”
“Wait.” That plan troubled Thea. “Does this mean you don’t enjoy, ah…feeling Lord Wylde there?” she managed to ask without putting herself to too terrible a blush.
Lady Elizabeth’s gaze bounced around the room while she answered. “I thought I did. Enjoyed it, that is. Or at least I believe I was coming to but then— Well…”
When she trailed off and showed no signs of continuing, Susan took over. “Lady Wylde?”
Red as a cherry, Lady Elizabeth looked back at Susan. “Aye?”
“I believe mayhap we’re comin’ at this from the wrong side.”
“How do you mean?”
Susan thought for a moment. Then she toed off her slippers, brought her legs to the chair beneath her voluminous skirts and leaned forward, elbows to her knees. Looking anything but a mistress, she proposed, “Let’s start over with your expectations, shall we? With how you’re approachin’ his, ah…er, plowing.”
At her hesitant nod, Susan continued. “If you like his aspects, that helps.”
“His aspects?” Lady Elizabeth seemed as perplexed as Thea.
“Aye. His manly aspects, the ones beneath his breeches.” When that brought no response, Susan pierced Lady Elizabeth with a blunt look. “Do you like the way ’e looks naked?”
Oh, yes, Thea couldn’t help but think the answer, picturing Lord Tremayne.
“I, ahm…I…” Lady Elizabeth was having more difficulty it seemed.
“You have seen him in the buff, haven’t you?” Susan persisted.
“I’ve—I’ve seen parts of him without clothing.”
“Parts, eh? The parts you’ve seen, then.” Susan was starting to sound exasperated. “’E’s your husband and all you’ve seen are parts? Never mind, tell me—when you consider his various naked parts, do you find you want to see more?”
Every time we’re together.
Lady Elizabeth’s answer was to turn scarlet. And not say a word.
“His face,” Susan said patiently, trying another tack, “do you like his face?”
Very much.
“Very much so.”
Thea smiled.
“That’s real good. How about I make it easy,” Susan suggested, “give you a short list of things to work on?”
“That sounds grand. Proceed.”
Ticking them off on her fingers, Susan began with gusto. “One, you cannot be afraid to show ’im what you like. Two—”
“But how?” Lady Elizabeth interrupted.
“By touchin’ yourself while he watches.” Susan admirably ignored the strangling sounds coming from the couch. “There’s other ways but that’s the easiest. Two, if it feels good, ’ave—have—fun with it. You ain’t hurting nobody and who cares what the law says?”
The law?
“Three, make sure you…”
In the end, the Dreaded Speech was a near disaster but not a total one. Not from Daniel’s viewpoint.
Penry never made it. Daniel found out later another marriage proposal for his second eldest, which resulted in jealous sisters and an elated and effusively talkative wife, delayed him. That and an untimely carriage-wheel mishap conspired to keep him far away from the committee meeting. By the time he finally showed, everyone else had gone home.
Wylde, on the other hand, at least put in an appearance. Pity it was half an hour too late.
The votes had already been tallied, the buffoon arses on the other side of the table unwilling to wait or reschedule before moving for a vote, with his brother-in-law’s side coming up three short. So even had both men been present, Wylde still would have gone home disappointed. Although “disappointed” wasn’t quite how the man looked… Daniel couldn’t tell if that was bashfulness or brazenness filling his friend’s distracted gaze, but something was definitely off. Given how intently the man had lobbied for a different outcome, his lack of anger over the result made less sense than a goat with two heads.
As for Daniel’s mouth, it stammered and muttered through, hampered by the absence of its two promised and most stalwart supporters, but hearkened by his own revelation: he really didn’t give a damn what these men thought about him.
In the last couple of days, he’d realized only the opinions of those he truly valued meant a whit. Wylde, Penry, Ellie of course. Thea (went without saying). Even Everson and Tom—possibly especially these two—had all conspired to bring the truth home: he couldn’t change what was. He couldn’t control how others responded or viewed him. But he could choose his friends and how he dealt with them.
He could focus his efforts on spending more time with those he liked and respected, and his energies in the direction of broadening a few more horizons. After the entertaining hours spent with the Eversons yesterday and the surprisingly pleasurable evening at the opera—with mistress and family—Daniel was no longer content to squirrel his life away and himself in a dark corner. No longer agreeable to avoiding every possible conversation.
But now, instead of looking forward to Thea’s, at turns soothing and scintillating, company, he was expected to remain home tonight—alone? For some deuced surprise Ellie had concocted?
