Amanda Quick - Mistress

A short, stark silence fell.

And then a large, familiar figure moved in the doorway.

"You have taught me to break most of my other rules, Iphiginia," Marcus said quietly. "Teach me to break this one, too.»

Everyone turned, dumbfounded, toward Marcus. They had all been so busy arguing that none of them had beard him come up the steps and open the front door.

Iphiginia met his eyes. A rush of longing went through her. She loved him so much, she thought. She had always known that they had been meant for each other.

She had to believe that he could learn to love her. "Oh, Marcus."

She flew toward the doorway and sailed into his arms. Marcus caught her close and held her very tightly.

THE NEWS THAT DODGSON SLITHERED OUT OF TOWN shortly after dark went unremarked by virtually everyone except Amelia. She wept with relief.

The truly riveting news, as far as the Polite World was concerned, was the engagement of the Earl of Masters to his notorious mistress, Mrs. Bright.

Word of the betrothal and the plans for a speedy marriage by special license flew through the ton. The curious and the amazed as well as a number of genuine well wishers lay in wait at every point along the park paths that afternoon.

Perched boldly atop the high scat of Marcus's sleek black phaeton, Iphiginia met stare after stare with a cool smile and a regal inclination of her head. She and Marcus dealt with the comments and veiled questions with bland civility.

That evening the inquisition began anew at every hall and soiree.

Herbert came up to Iphiginia at the Binghams' ball. "Cannot blame them, Y'know," he said, slanting a glance at two turbaned matrons who had just finished quizzing Iphiginia. "Word of your engagement took Society by surprise. I confess, I was rather startled, m'self."

"So was I." Iphiginia smiled at Herbert, relieved to see a friendly face. Zoe and Otis had disappeared a few minutes ago and Marcus, who had been helping her deal with the curious, had gone off to fetch some champagne.

Herbert gave her a kind, supportive smile, but his dear, normally cheerful gaze was troubled. "No offense, but are you certain you know what you're doing? I realize that Masters is rich and there is the title. But marriage is a very serious proposition."

"I assure you, I am aware of that."

"Speaking as your friend, one who knows you infinitely better than Masters does, I beseech you to give the matter more consideration before you take any irrevocable steps. There are rumors that you intend to wed by special license. Surely you can wait before you rush into this?"

Iphiginia looked at him in surprise. "What makes you think you know me better than Masters does?"

Herbert gazed out over the crowded room. "I have felt that way from the beginning, Iphiginia. You and I have much in common. More than you realize. In a way, I believe that we are two of a kind."

"I know that you wish to be a good friend to me and I very much appreciate it." Iphiginia touched his sleeve. "But you must not concern yourself on my behalf. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Herbert looked at her. "I hope you are right, m'dear. I shall miss you."

"Miss me?"

"I fear that once you are wed to Masters, I shall see a great deal less of you."

"Mr. Hoyt, you are acting as though I am about to be locked away in a convent."

"A harem, I believe, would be a better description," Marcus said from just behind Iphiginia's left shoulder.

She turned quickly to smile at him. "There you are, my lord. I did not see you return from the buffet table."

"I know." Marcus thrust a glass of champagne into her fingers, but his gaze rested on Herbert. "You were deep in conversation with your good friend Mr. Hoyt."

Herbert inclined his head in a stiff nod. "'Evening, Masters. I was merely giving Mrs. Bright my best wishes on her forthcoming marriage."

"Thank you, Herbert," Iphiginia said gently. "My pleasure." Herbert took her gloved hand in his and kissed the back of it. "Whatever happens, Mrs. Bright, I want you to know that I shall treasure the friendship we have shared."

Marcus took Iphiginia's arm. "I think it's time we moved along to the Andersons . It's nearly midnight and we are expected to put in an appearance."

"Yes, of course." Iphiginia gave Herbert a farewell smile and allowed herself to he led away through the crowd.

"I grow increasingly weary of stumbling over Hoyt in order to get to you," Marcus said.

"I regret that he annoys you, but he is my friend, Marcus. I am quite fond of him." Iphiginia gave Marcus a repressive glance as he led her down the steps to the waiting carriage. "I expect you to be polite to my friends after we are married."

"Of course, my dear," Marcus said with uncharacteristic and rather suspect meekness.

Iphiginia scowled at him. "What was that nonsense about locking me away in a harem?"

"A harem of one, my sweet. I assure you that you will be the only occupant."

"That sounds interesting," Iphiginia said. "It certainly struck me that way."

Iphiginia was exhausted by the time Marcus finally escorted her home at three in the morning. The town house was quiet, Amelia and the staff having long since retired to bed. Marcus and Iphiginia went quietly across the hall and walked into the shadowed library.

Marcus closed the door, loosened his cravat, and lit the candle on Iphiginia's desk.

"Good heavens, what an exhausting evening." Iphiginia stripped off her white kid gloves and flopped into the chair behind her desk. Her white sarcanet and satin skirts fluttered around her. "One would have thought you had announced your intention to marry a female who possessed two heads. I have never seen so many curious eyes or beard so many gasps of amazement."

"The worst is over." "I certainly hope so." Iphiginia frowned at her white skirts. "The first thing I am going to do after our marriage is purchase some new gowns. I am dreadfully bored with white."

"It served its purpose." Marcus helped himself to a small glass of brandy.

"I suppose it did." "It was an extremely daring and rather shrewd notion.

"Thank you, my lord. I was rather pleased with the notion myself." Iphiginia tried to summon up a casual smile.

In truth she felt anything but calm tonight. The enormity of the step she was about to take was having a deeply unsettling effect on her nerves.

Teach me to break this rule, too. Had Marcus really meant that he was willing to learn how to love again? Iphiginia wondered. Or had he offered her the challenge, knowing that she would be unable to resist?

He could be so bloody clever, she thought. "Speaking of our marriage," Marcus said.

"Yes?" Iphiginia watched as he began to prowl the room, brandy glass in one hand.

Marcus paused in front of a statue of Aphrodite. "I intend to procure a special license in the morning. We can he married tomorrow afternoon."

Iphiginia caught her breath. "So soon?"

He looked at her over his shoulder, his intelligent gaze shuttered and brooding. "There is no need to delay the event, is there?"

It dawned on Iphiginia that, in his own way, Marcus was as ill at case as she was tonight. How odd that, having been through so much together, they should suddenly find themselves nervous around each other.

"No," she said.

Marcus nodded once, satisfied. "I shall make the arrangements."

"Very well."

Marcus took a swallow of brandy and moved on to study the statue of the Roman centurion. "I thought we managed quite nicely this evening."

"People are amazed that you are going to marry your mistress, you know."

"You are not my mistress." Marcus set his glass down on a nearby table. "You are my fiancee. The gossip will vanish once we are wed."

Iphiginia glanced at the copy of Illustrations of Classical Antiquities on her desk. "Are you certain?"

"Quite." Marcus sounded without any humor. "Marriage fixes everything, you see."

Iphiginia recalled the circumstances of Marcus's first marriage and winced. "Yes."

"It silences scandal before it can flower. It renders titillating gossip of an affair into extremely dull tea conversation. In short, Iphiginia, once we are married, we shall become a very boring subject so far as Society is concerned."

Iphiginia gazed at him very steadily. "Is that the reason you wish to marry me, sir? I would sooner return to Deepford than he wed in order to silence the threat of scandal."

"No," Marcus said. "It is not why I wish to marry you. I wish to marry you because you are the only woman I know who can keep me from becoming a clockwork man.

«Marcus.» Iphiginia was shocked at the analogy. "You cannot mean that."

"But I do mean it." He hesitated, as though gathering himself to jump off a cliff into a rolling sea. "I need you to keep me from becoming a victim of my own rules, Iphiginia."

Iphiginia felt the talons of his deeply buried torment as though it were her own flesh they pierced. She knew. without a trace of doubt what his admission had cost him.

Another rule broken, no doubt, she thought. She got to her feet and went around the corner of her desk. She stepped into his arms and framed his hard face with her hands.

"Marcus, pay close attention. You are in no danger of becoming an automaton. You are a warm, passionate man with extremely refined sensibilities."

"Do you think so?" The dark intensity vanished from his voice. He grinned briefly. "Well, in that case, it would probably be best not to delay our marriage. I'm not at all certain my refined sensibilities could withstand the strain of waiting."