The Duke’s Perfect Wife

was avaricious and flamboyant at the same time, and I inherited his fruits.”

Hart, for his part, couldn’t catch his breath. Having Eleanor warm in his arms, she looking up at him with absolute trust, had crashed into him and made everything else as nothing. If Fleming hadn’t interrupted, Hart would have taken her tonight. Perhaps there on the stairs, with the possibility of one of the guests looking up and seeing them rendering it doubly exciting.

His hardness had deflated a bit when David had called up the stairs, but thinking about Eleanor on the railing, her foot sliding up to his backside, was making it rise again.

Pay attention. We throw the net over Neely, and he brings in his dozen staunch followers, wrenching them away from Gladstone. We need him. Fleming was right to fetch me—he’s too decadent for Neely’s taste.

The reformed Hart Mackenzie, on the other hand, who rarely touched a woman these days, could win over a prudish bachelor. Nothing like a rake who’s seen the error of his ways to excite a puritan.

Neely gave David a disapproving look as David lit a cigar, leaned back, and inhaled the smoke with pleasure. David rarely bothered controlling his appetites, but Hart knew that David had a razorlike mind behind his seeming depravity.

“Mr. Fleming believes he can purchase my loyalty,” Neely said. He made a face at the smoke and coughed into a small fist.

David had nicely primed the target, Hart saw. “Mr. Fleming can be crude,” he said. “Put it down to his upbringing.”

Neely gave Fleming an unfriendly look. “What do you want?” he asked Hart.

“Your help.” Hart spread his hands, the words coming easily to his lips while his body sat back and craved Eleanor. “My reforms, Neely, will strike to the heart of matters dear to you. I hate corruption, hate looking the other way while human beings are exploited in the name of enriching the nation. I’ll stop such things, but I need your help to do it. I can’t work alone.”

Neely looked slightly mollified. Hart knew better than to appeal to him by promising gains of power or wealth—Neely was a well-off, upper-middle-class English gentleman with strong ideas about one’s place in society. He disapproved of David’s wild lifestyle and Hart’s vast estate, but he didn’t condemn the two men entirely. Not their fault. Hart was a duke, David the grandson of a peer. They belonged to the aristocratic classes and couldn’t help their excesses.

Neely also believed that the duty of the higher classes was to better the lot of the lower classes. He wanted them to remain peasants, of course, but happy and well-cared-for peasants, to show the world at large that the English, at least, still practiced noblesse oblige. Neely would never dream of drinking a pint “down at the pub” with a coal miner or hiring a Cockney pickpocket to be a valet to his brother. But he’d certainly fight for better wages, lower bread prices, and less dangerous working conditions.

“Yes, well,” Neely said. “You have put forth some excellent ideas for reforms, Your Grace.” He wet his lips, gaze darting first to David, then Hart.

David caught the look and shot Hart a glance. “Perhaps we can sweeten the pot, eh?” David asked. “I sense that you wish to ask us something. You’re in confidence here. Words will go no further than the three of us and these walls.” He patted the cushioned velvet beside his head.

Hart expected Neely to ask for another tax on the aristocracy or their help on a pet project, or some such, but he surprised them by saying, “I wish to marry.”

Hart raised his brows. “Do you? My felicitations.”

“No, no. I mean, I wish to marry, but I am afraid that I am acquainted with no eligible, unmarried ladies. Perhaps, Your Grace, with your wide circle, you could introduce me to someone suitable?”

While Hart hid his annoyance, David took a pull of his cigar, removed it, and looked through the smoke at Hart. “Perhaps Lady Eleanor could help? She knows everyone in the country.”

Neely perked up at the mention of a title. “If this lady would be so kind?”

David stuck his cigar back into his mouth, and Hart gave him an irritated glance. While Eleanor acknowledged that many women of her class married to make social or financial connections, she might not be best pleased at being asked to introduce the prissy and snobbish Neely to one of her friends.

“I have to caution you,” Hart said to Neely, “that even were Lady Eleanor to agree to help, whether the young lady in question accepted your offer of marriage would be entirely up to her. A marriage is too nebulous a thing to guarantee.”

Neely thought about this, and nodded. “Yes, I see. Well, gentlemen, I will consider things.”

Hart felt the fish slipping away. But he had no interest in scouring England to find this man a bride. He’d have to resort to threats, not exactly what he wanted to do this night either.

Before he could speak, David blew out smoke and said, “Tell us what you really want, Neely.”

Hart glanced at David in surprise, then he wondered how he’d missed the signs. Neely was nervous, far more than a man wishing to be introduced to the right woman.

Hart’s head was not in this game tonight. Of course not. His thoughts were on the stairwell with Eleanor, her instant but innocent response, the taste of her mouth, the scent of her skin…

“You were about to ask for something else, before you settled on the safe topic of marriage,” David said, dragging back Hart’s attention. “Confess. You’re among friends. Worldly friends, at that.”

In other words, you can be honest with us, because we’re as bad as any gentlemen could be. You cannot possibly shock us.

Neely cleared his throat. He started to smile, and Hart relaxed. David had found a point of comradeship with him. Now to bring the fish into the boat.

Neely looked at Hart. “I want to do what you do.”

Hart frowned, not understanding. “What I do?”

“With women.” Neely’s eyes took on a hopeful light. “You know.”

Oh, dear God. “That was in the past, Mr. Neely,” Hart said coolly. “I’ve reformed.”

“Yes. Very admirable of you.” Neely drew a breath. “But you’d know where I can find such things. I like the ladies. I like them very much, but I’m a bit shy. And I have no idea which ones to approach for… certain things. I met a fellow in France who told me he put a halter on one and rode her like a horse. I’d like… I’d like very much to try something like that.”

Hart struggled to hide his disgust. What Neely asked for was nothing like the exotic pleasures Hart had learned and enjoyed. Neely asked for what he thought Hart enjoyed—using women, perhaps hurting them, for his pleasure. What Neely meant was a perversity, and not at all the art Hart practiced.

What Hart did was about trust, not pain—Hart promising the most exquisite joy to the woman who surrendered to him absolutely. He’d schooled himself to understand exactly what each woman wanted and exactly how to give it to her, and how to ease her back safely in the end. A lady never needed to fear when she was in Hart’s care.

However, the art could be dangerous, and an inexperienced pervert like Neely could truly hurt someone. The thought that Neely assumed Hart enjoyed handing out pain annoyed him. The man was an idiot.

But Hart needed the man’s votes. He swallowed his anger and said, “Mrs. Whitaker.”

“Ah.” David smiled and gestured with the cigar. “Excellent choice.”

“Who is Mrs. Whitaker?” Neely asked.

“A woman who will take good care of you,” Hart said. Mrs. Whitaker was a courtesan who knew how to contain overexcited men like Neely. “David will see you to her house.”

Neely looked eager and fearful at the same time. “Do you mean on the moment?”

“No time like the present,” Hart said. “I will leave you in Mr. Fleming’s hands. Good evening, Mr. Neely. I must return to my guests.”

“Quite.” Neely made a bow in his seat but did not extend a hand. He’d never think it proper to offer to shake hands with a duke. “I thank you, Your Grace.”

David and Hart shared another glance, and Hart opened the door. He climbed with relief out of the smoky carriage as David stretched his legs across the seat Hart had vacated and crossed his ankles, the very picture of