Sexy As Hell

turn into a blur.”

“You speak from experience?”

“I do, but then that’s what a majordomo’s for. Josef is nonpareil when it comes to names and titles. I rely on him completely,” he said, strolling down the corridor. “And if someone should be rude don’t be shocked at my response.”

“Will they be?”

“Of course. In the ton manners are uncertain, snideness is an art form, and we are perceived as a divertissement of the first water. You already saw as much during our at-home.”

Reminded, Isolde softly groaned. “Promise to save me.” “I believe I already have,” he said easily, “but I shall again tonight. Consider this my Lancelot phase.”

“If only you weren’t so wicked, you might aspire to a Lancelot.”

He shot her an amused look. “Who says I’m wicked?”

“Who doesn’t? Although I’m sure all your admirers mean it in the sweetest way.” The tittle-tattle was impossible to ignore, whether below-stairs whispers or those she’d overheard at their at- home. Or her own personal assessment of the spoiled young lord who’d done her the huge favor of marrying her-temporarily. “As do I, darling. Have I told you that you intrigue me mightily?”

“No, but I rather have that feeling with your, shall we say, captivating enthusiasm for my person.”

“For your cock, darling. Be more specific.”

He laughed out loud, causing the many servants still crowding the corridor to look their way. “You don’t know how pleased I am to have stumbled into your little drama that night at Blackwood’s. I haven’t been so pleasantly entertained in ages.”

“We’re pleased we amuse you,” she dulcetly replied. “So long as the next amusement isn’t too long delayed.”

“Midnight at the latest. You’re not the only one waiting.”

“How sweet. May I say you’re the most charitable and obliging of husbands.”

“You make it easy, puss. Everything in life should be so simple.”

He was in too fine spirits to question the motives behind that ease. Or the reasons why his wife had become of such material interest to him. It had been an extremely busy few days he would have said, had the question been posed to him.

But it wasn’t.

Which was perhaps just as well.

Because then he would have been required to think about a woman in something more than sexual terms for the first time since India.

CHAPTER 10

SEEING JOSEF APPROACH, Oz turned to Isolde. “I invited a friend of mine and his wife to meet you before the reception.” He looked as his majordomo drew near. “Are they here?”

“In the Dresden sitting room as you requested, sir.”

“The time?”

“Eight forty, sir. This way.” Josef walked alongside Oz.

“Fetch us at nine.”

“Of course, sir,” Josef said with mild affront.

“Sorry, Josef. Nerves.”

“I very much doubt that, sir.”

“You’re right. I dislike the fashionable world.”

“With good reason, sir.”

Oz shot an amused glance at his majordomo. “You think you know everything, don’t you, Josef?”

“I was the one who carried you to your father on the day you were born. Begging your pardon, sir, there’s very little I don’t know.”

Oz grinned. “Then I must pray you never resort to blackmail.”

“If you prayed, sir.”

“Darling, see what happens when one allows too much license in one’s household?” Oz pointed out, suppressing a smile. “It’s anarchy.”

Between Oz and Josef, she rather thought they could set an army into the field, but this was no time to disagree. “I’m sure you’re right, dear.”

Oz gazed at her, one brow raised. “Now that must be nerves.”

“I relinquish sedition for the greater good, my lord,” she sweetly said.

He chuckled. “Until later, I assume.”

“We’re both waiting for midnight, my lord.”

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I might be willing to strike a bargain for eleven o’clock.”

“Done.”

“Witch,” he murmured, but the word was velvet soft. With a glance at Josef, who’d come to a stop, Oz took Isolde’s hand and smiled. “Curtain up, darling.”

Josef nodded at a footman to open the sitting room door.

“You needn’t announce us.” Oz waved Josef away.

“Groveland and I are past such drills.” Both habituйs of London’s finest brothels until Groveland’s surprise marriage last fall, the men had been companions in vice, sharing common pleasures and women on more than one occasion. Not, however, since Groveland had dropped from sight and left that prodigal world. Oz was meeting his wife for the first time.

“Evening, Fitz,” Oz cheerfully exclaimed on entering the room. “Thank you for coming early.”

The Duke of Groveland had risen to his feet. “Our pleasure. Allow me to make my lovely wife known to you.” He turned to a stunning redhead seated on the sofa behind him, the yellow silk upholstery perfect foil for her hair and Nile green gown. “Rosalind, Oz.”

“I’m pleased to meet you at last,” Oz said with a graceful bow. He drew Isolde forward. “I’d like to introduce my beautiful bride. Isolde, Countess Wraxell in her own right, Rosalind and Fitz, the Duke and Duchess of Groveland.”

Smiles and the usual banalities were exchanged, Isolde and Fitz took seats, and Oz moved toward the liquor table. “I refuse to face the mob sober. Let me bring us something to ease the strain.”

“I may have a head start on you,” Fitz waggishly noted. “I never face these entertainments sober. With your marriage the talk of the town, you have even more reason to indulge in an extra drink or three. To deal with the guile.”

Rosalind smiled. “As you can see, Fitz isn’t keen on mingling with society.”

“Who is?” Isolde frankly replied. “Oz is the one insisting on this affair.”

“Because your husband knows the best defense against the inquisitive is a preemptive offense,” Oz offered over his shoulder as he poured the drinks. “In case you can’t tell, we’ve been arguing about this soiree.”

“And as you can probably tell,” Isolde said with smile for their guests, “I’ve lost the argument.”

“You can win the next one,” Oz cheerfully offered, returning with the drinks expertly balanced on his large palms. “I understand congratulations are in order.” He offered Fitz a drink, set his aside, and handed champagne to the ladies. “When is the blessed event?”

The duchess blushed and the duke took her hand. “May we’re told,” Fitz said. “Apparently, the timing of these matters isn’t always certain.”

The duchess added, “We’re both complete tyros as well.” Isolde was surprised to experience a small lurch of jealousy, outrageous of course and instantly dismissed. “How pleased you must be. Is this your first?”

“Yes. And I’m more delighted than most expectant mothers because I never thought I could have children,” Rosalind said, squeezing her husband’s hand. “It’s a miracle of sorts.”