In short, she would miss him.
Perhaps she could persuade him to stay a little longer. Not cajole him as the fawning ladies of London undoubtedly did—but by showing him how useful she could be as a wife, and mistress of the house, might he consider her company worth keeping?
She selected a gown and slipped it on. The first step might be to employ a lady’s maid. It would make dressing much easier, and she could resolve her conscience knowing she’d be giving a young woman employment. And though Meggie was loath to act upon any suggestion of Elizabeth’s, a French maid would help improve her command of the language.
She slipped out of the chamber with, for the first time, a sense of hope.
As she wandered through the main part of the house, she caught sight of Alderley languishing in the morning room, his nose in a brandy glass. She stepped back and watched him through a crack in the door. Decorum might dictate that she attend him as hostess, but she had no wish to spend any more time alone with her father.
Or her sister.
As if she read Meggie’s mind, Elizabeth’s sharp tones sliced through the silence. Alderley must have heard the voice, too, for he rolled his eyes, then drained his glass.
Meggie smiled to herself. At least she didn’t have to live with the woman. Alderley resented the expenses he’d incurred paying for Meggie’s upkeep, but they would have paled in insignificance compared to Elizabeth’s extravagances.
Perhaps he should be thanking Meggie for her status. Bastards should be applauded for being cheaper to maintain than legitimate offspring.
She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, then shrank back as Alderley rose from his seat. The last thing she wanted was to be discovered spying on him. He approached the door and pushed it shut, no doubt to muffle Elizabeth’s caustic tones.
Meggie drew her shawl around her and made her way to the main doors, smiling at the waiting footman who bowed as she approached him.
She stopped as she heard another voice—her husband’s voice.
“Hush, Elizabeth! Your father will hear us, not to mention my wife.”
“I thought you said she was asleep,” Elizabeth’s voice said, “and safely out of the way.”
Heat rose in Meggie’s cheeks.
The footman opened the main doors, and Meggie shook her head. “Thank you, no,” she said. She glanced in the direction of the voices. “It’s time you had your tea.”
“I’m not to be relieved for another five minutes, ma’am.”
“The door will be no worse for being unattended for a minute or two,” she said. “Go to the kitchen, and tell Mrs. Brown I said you could have an extra slice of her shortbread.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” With a bow, he left.
The voices came from the direction of Dexter’s study—the very room in which he’d promised she could trust him.
“Do you want your father to overhear, Elizabeth?”
“Oh, Papa!” Elizabeth scoffed. “He always does what I tell him.”
“Then he’s not a real man.”
“That he’s not.” Elizabeth’s voice lowered to a seductive purr. “Not like you. Perhaps that’s why I find you so attractive, Dexter darling. You’re all man—every single part of you. Including…”
“Stop it!”
“Oh, come on, Dexter!” Elizabeth scoffed. “You never protested before. In fact, you pursued me.”
“Those days are gone.”
“Pshah, nonsense! You just need a little reminder—of all those times you screamed my name! I could have given myself to any number of men, but I’ve saved myself for you, darling. Only you…”
Meggie heard a scuffle, followed by high-pitched laughter. “That’s it, Dex, darling! I knew you were hard for me.”
“I’m no such thing.”
“Do you remember when you told me how wet I was for you? That I could spend at the mere touch of your hand?” Her voice lowered to a coaxing, seductive purr. “Would you like to test that assertion now?”
“Elizabeth, I’m married.”
“To the wrong sister,” Elizabeth said. “My fool of a father thought he could deceive us both by giving you that little slut instead.”
Meggie flinched at the insult. Though she was prepared for Elizabeth’s incivility to her face, the insult seemed all the more acute when issued behind her back.
“What’s done is done,” Dexter said. “We must both make the best of it.”
“Which is why we should continue where we left off. You owe me that, at least.”
“I owe you nothing.”
“I think you do, Dexter. I saved myself for you.”
He barked with laughter.
“I’m still a maiden,” she said, “which is more than can be said for the doxy you married.”
“Elizabeth, you let me take you in every manner possible while preserving your virginity. Physically that makes you a maiden—but an innocent? I think not.” His voice rose in anger. “Look at you—even now, on your knees, desperate to service my cock.”
Meggie moved toward the door, which was half-open. Her husband stood in the center of the room, arms folded, his back to her. Elizabeth knelt at his feet, face upturned, desire glittering in her eyes. She reached forward and grasped his hips.
Meggie drew in a sharp breath, and Elizabeth’s gaze slid sideways and focused on her. A slow smile spread across her lips. She parted them and flicked out her tongue, running it along her bottom lip.
“Surely you’ve not forgotten the pleasures I’ve given you in this very position, Dexter, darling?” she said. “I offer you such pleasure now, such that you might cry my name and say you love me again.”
“I did not…”
“Everyone knows that you regret being shackled to that little by-blow,” she said. “Who even knows if she’s Papa’s? Any rutting footman could have sired her.”
“Perhaps,” he said, “but she’s my wife, and I’m resolved to make the best of it.”
With her gaze fixed on Meggie, Elizabeth’s smile broadened. “That we must, my poor darling.”
Meggie could bear it no longer. She withdrew, then turned and broke into a run, almost colliding with the footman who’d just arrived to tend to the door.
“Take care, ma’am!”
“Forgive me, I-I must get out…”
He pulled open the door, and she ran outside, almost tripping as she took the steps two at a time.
***
Dexter gazed at the creature kneeling at his feet.
How could he have ever thought her desirable? Spiteful desperation exuded from every pore of her corrupted body. What possessed her to believe that she could conquer him by insulting his sweet little wife, then offering herself like a twopenny harlot?
He’d wondered how far she was prepared to go to degrade herself. But she had surpassed the depths to which even a common a prostitute would plumb.
Bile rose in his throat, and he reached for her. The triumph in her eyes magnified, and she parted her lips. Then he grasped her shoulders and pushed her back.
She fell to the ground and parted her legs.
“You always loved a little roughness to your bedsport, darling,” she said. “I’m glad you’ve rekindled the taste for it.”