Margaret Moore Read Online Free PDF Page B

those dreams, she was always running down a dark and foggy street. At first she was frightened, sure she was being chased. She would see the handsome solicitor standing in a blaze of light and her fear would disappear. She ran into his arms, feeling cherished and safe.
    Then they were magically in her bedchamber. In her bed. Naked. Together.
    He would caress her body and kiss her with his marvelous lips, and she would touch him, feel his flesh hot against her hands—
    “Would you like some wine, Vivienne? It
is
a trifle warm in here,” Lettice said, yanking Vivienne from her reverie.
    “No, thank you,” she replied, commanding herself to remember why she was here, and to forget her dreams.
    Vivienne made a small, companionable smile and shifted away from Lettice and Lord Bobbles, who was shedding all over her skirt. Uncle Elias would not be pleased if she returned home with her pale pink gown covered in black hairs. “I thought your husband didn’t approve of gambling.”
    “But everybody gambles! The king gambles,” Lettice declared with a shake of her blond head that set her ringlets bouncing, as if that decided the matter.
    “The king does many things many people do not approve of.”
    In the act of lifting another confection to her lips, Lettice halted and stared at Vivienne. “You sound just like one of those horrid old Puritans!” She giggled again. “And your expression is just like one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting.”
    “I have heard they don’t approve of the English court.”
    “I should say they don’t,” Lettice agreed with disdain as she popped the confection in her mouth and spoke while delicately chewing. “They refuse to learn even a word of English, they wear nothing but black and their expressions are so sour and their gowns so old-fashioned, they look like effigies. They should all be lying on a tomb somewhere. Indeed, I always have to assure myself they’re actually breathing! And they are so very proper, it’s … well, it’s ludicrous. They say they won’t sleep in any bed a man has
ever
been in.”
    “Given what I have heard of the court, they must had had to order several new beds.”
    Vivienne immediately wished she hadn’t mentioned beds, because beds made her think of her dreams, and the lawyer’s hands, and his lips, and their passion….
    Lettice giggled her agreement and brushed a bit of sugar from the lace around the curved neckline of her satin bodice. “That is a very pretty gown.”
    Vivienne was glad of the change of subject. “Do you like the color? It is one of my uncle’s new dyes.”
    “No lace?”
    “You know he does not deal in lace, so I never wear it, Lettice.”
    “You should be glad he sells such lovely silk and ribbons, though,” Lettice noted. She examined the silk damask and nodded her approval. “Very pretty. Lady Horrace was wearing something rather similar in court.”
    “Have you been to court recently?”
    Lettice preened a little as she put the last bonbon into her mouth. “Just last week, for a masque. It was very exciting. And oh, how handsome the king looked! I swear to you, Vivienne, he is the finest-looking man in the kingdom.”
    Vivienne had serious doubts about that, unless the king resembled a certain solicitor of her acquaintance.
    “To see King Charles dance! And his legs, my dear.” She leaned forward again. “His legs are really quite muscular.”
    Vivienne wondered about her solicitor’s legs. In her imagination, they were as muscular as the rest of him.
    “There’s no need to blush, my dear. I assure you, we were all properly attired, some more than others, though,” she finished with another giggle. She lifted her dog and rubbed his nose against hers. “Isn’t that so, Lord Bobbles? Didn’t your mama have on a very lovely dress?”
    That was it. Embarrassment or no embarrassment, Vivienne couldn’t stand this much longer. “Lettice, what do you know about Sir Philip Martlebury?”
    Lord Bobbles fell back