Naked Nobility - 01 - The Naked Duke by Sally MacKenzie

Author:Sally MacKenzie
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Historical Fiction
Published: 2011-06-09T03:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

"Lady Gladys, may I have a moment of your time? I wish to discuss my future."

Lady Gladys and Lady Amanda put down their teacups. Sarah had never been in Lady Gladys's sitting room before. It was a pleasant, sunny place, but she was too nervous to pay much attention to decor.

Lady Gladys eyed the high-necked gown Sarah had chosen to wear that morning. It was stylish—and it hid the reddish mark on her throat.

"Seems to me you and James spent some time last evening discussing that topic. I would say the issue was decided."

Sarah wiped her palms on her skirt. It was precisely last night's "discussion" that had prompted her to seek out James's aunt this morning. Any more encounters of that nature and she'd be giving London ladies lessons in wantonness.

"Indeed, miss." Lady Amanda chuckled. "You've got poor James thinking with what's in his breeches rather than what's under his hat. He's usually not so indiscreet. Keeps his amorous interests to the bedchamber."

"Amanda is right, Sarah. James has never singled a young lady out for such marked attention before. Society is taking notice."

"The Duchess of Rothingham certainly is. Has that great beak of hers quite out of joint. Never enjoyed a sight more in my life, I tell you."

"Amanda!"

"Well, it's true. Admit it, Gladys. You're as delighted as I am to see Suzie Bentley in a dither. Why she thought she could foist her brat off on James is more than I can fathom."

Lady Gladys nodded. "She always had rocks for brains. It's no surprise she gave birth to the Marble Queen."

"She was insufferable as a girl, and marrying Rothingham just made her worse."

Sarah tried to bring the conversation back to her problem. "If society is taking notice, Lady Gladys, then so is Mr. Runyon. He does not want his grace to marry."

"Richard doesn't want his grace to live, Sarah, but that doesn't mean James will climb into a grave for him. Don't worry about Richard. James will take care of him."

"But do you think the duke really wishes to marry?"

"Oh, pish!" Lady Amanda flicked her fingers at Sarah. "What man does want to marry? I'm sure they'd all like to flit from woman to woman, like a bee in a garden. And James has certainly made it clear that he'd like to sip the nectar of your flower, girl. Knows the only way to do that is to marry you."

"But his reputation…"

"What reputation? Oh, you mean that ridiculous Monk business."

Lady Gladys turned to stare at Lady Amanda. "What ridiculous Monk business?"

"You know, Gladys. The silly rumors that have James cavorting with half the ladies of the ton and all the whores of London."

Lady Gladys snorted. "Are those stories still making the rounds?"

"They get more outrageous each Season."

Sarah felt a rush of relief. "So they aren't true?"

"Oh, I'm sure some of them are, dear." Lady Gladys shrugged. "James is twenty-eight."

Lady Amanda nodded. "You must just take them with a grain of salt, Sarah. Why one of the tales has James sailing down the Thames with half a dozen barques of frailty.

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