Page 5 of The Lady's Guide to Well-Endowed Dukes
Apparently, it had taken well over a year for the new Contessa to come across the lavender-scented missives—bywhich time she’d delivered the Conte an heir and had another on the way. In light of that, she might have overlooked the indiscretion, had not Mathilde naively signed and dated the blasted things. Discovering that Mathilde had been warming her husband’s bed mere days before she was about to climb into it herself had ruffled the Contessa’s feathers too briskly for her to turn the other cheek.
The upshot was that she’d threatened to expose Mathilde not just to her own family but to that of the man she was now about to marry. As this happened to be the Crown Prince of Montegiana, a heap of trouble was about to land upon Mathilde’s head.
Even if her prince were willing to forgive his beloved’s scandalous behavior, Estela doubted the King and Queen of Montegiana would be so understanding.
Their kingdom was a tiny principality but, holding a strategic position within the Balkans, the marriage had been engineered to ensure Britain a friendly foothold within the region. Estela had no doubt that Mathilde had been chosen from among King Edward’s many female relatives for her seemingly spotless reputation. Moreover, in likelihood, the national coffers had been called upon to endow Mathilde with a persuasive dowry.
The love letters were irrefutable proof that the affair had taken place and, as such, their recovery was paramount. Estela had promised Mathilde she’d succeed; and she’d been so very close!
She could only hope that whoever now possessed them had no ill-intention.
Perhaps, having no wish to be dragged into an international scandal, the Conte had himself arranged to have them purloined from his wife’s apartments.
If so, she hoped he had the sense to destroy them, not least because Estela had little hope of persuading anyone that she’d been entirely ignorant of the affair.
One way or another, she was returning to a scenario in which several sorts of steaming manure would have to be dealt with.
A sudden knock startled her into releasing the gown, which she’d been crushing in her fists.
At last!
With alacrity, she allowed the steward entry, trundling a trolley before him. Proudly, he indicated the selection of pastries, beginning some ramble of their names and the regions of Italy from which each variety hailed.
Estela wasted no time in taking up the champagne from the ice bucket and popping the cork. Without bothering to fill a glass, she tipped back the cool liquid, drinking her fill directly from the bottle.
“Signora, please!” The steward looked perturbed. His hands fluttered. “You are overcome by the sun. It happens to the older ladies. You must sit and I pour in the proper way. See the beautifultorte. You taste, then take the nap and all will be fine.” His cheeks were quite flushed with shock.
Estela gave the heaviest of sighs. Much as she desired male company, she was in no mood to cajole, nor to seek charity.
“Leave the trolley. I shall see to the rest myself.”
Hurrying him out, she closed the door.
CHAPTER 2
By the timeEstela had polished off her bottle of 1874 Dom Pérignon, she was feeling significantly more optimistic toward life in general, and the whole Mathilde-debacle in particular. She had been so sure of retrieving the letters that it had come as something of a blow to find herself outmatched. However, instinct told her that hope remained, and the vengeful Contessa’s plans had been thwarted in some way as-yet-unexplained. Estela reminded herself to trust in the guiding Fates, who mostly served her well.
However, although the champagne had done its job in taking the edge off her nerves, it had done nothing to quell the ache of desire deep in her loins. Quite the opposite, in fact, and she was determined to deal with that as soon as possible. It was doubtful that any of her fellow passengers would be suitable. From her observations upon boarding, most were either extremely elderly or were travelling in couples. Given the close quarters of their environment, a fling with one of the dining waiters might be the simplest solution, or possibly a member of the bridge crew.
In honor of the hunt, in which she fully intended to be successful, Estela had finally decided upon her rich red velvet with matching plumes in her hair, secured by a large ruby pin.The neckline was exceedingly low. The scant ribbon of black guipure lace, which threaded seductively at the top of the bodice, only increased the effect. No male between the ages of 16 and 106 would be unaffected.
The choker of smaller rubies about her throat sent a subliminal message, she liked to think. That she wore matching garters above red stockings was her own little secret, which she looked forward to sharing with the lucky recipient of her wiles.
The sleeves of the gown were no more than little swags of fabric and she wore her evening gloves high upon each arm, with a mere sliver of ivory visible above the black silk.
Entering the grand salon of the ship’s dining room, Estela had never felt more confident of her allure, nor more determined to put it to good use.
The Maître d' was just escorting her across the room towards the captain’s table, having pocketed a guinea for his trouble. They were moving through the center of the room, past marble columns and potted palms whose upper reaches almost brushed the majesty of the glass-domed ceiling—when an excited female somewhere to the left trilled her name.
“Heavens be!” exclaimed the voice, with its pronounced Scottish lilt. “Is that wee Stella? It is, I’m surely certain!”
“Hulloo!” A second voice chimed in. “Stella, it’s us! Margaret and Oona.”
Estela stopped in her tracks.
“Och, she’s seen us.” Oona’s arm came into view, waving madly from behind the leaves of a fig plant.
Estela hadn’t seen either of her godmothers for more years than she could remember, but they’d been close in the past. Her parents had been prone to gallivanting for long periods, leaving her brother Charles at Eton, and Estela buried in the Highlands with the two sisters for months on end. It had been long before Esther was born.
