Page 74 of The Duke's Dream
A shaft of sunlight caught her, bathing her in a radiant glow. In that ethereal light, she became half sprite, half siren—a vision of beauty and mischief. William's hand went to his chest as warmth filled him. A feeling so exquisitely acute it had to be pain.
He had taken a beating in their bedside negotiations, his plans upended by her spirited defiance. Yet, watching her smile—luminous and triumphant in the sunlit room—he felt like King Leonidas, knowing his defeat at Thermopylae would be remembered as a glorious victory.
***
There were few better places to share scandalous news than among dismembered gods.
Helene trailed her fingers along the cold marble of a faceless Aphrodite and took a bracing breath. The Elgin marbles loomed in noble fragments—much like her composure. Louise and Celeste flanked her, blissfully unaware that she was about to drop a bomb worthy of Mount Olympus.
She smoothed her gloves and lifted her chin. She was an adult. She was independent. She was in control. So what if she had taken a lover? So what if said lover happened to be England’s most formidable duke?
She had chosen him. That made all the difference.
Now, she just had to tell them.
Helene cleared her throat, but Louise halted before the Parthenon Pediments.
“Don’t you think these statues would be more awe-inspiring in their original setting?” Louise asked. “If Elgin hadn’t stolen them from Athens?”
Helene gasped, glancing at the other visitors. “Louise, someone might hear you! Elgin didn’t steal them—he saved them. The Ottomans would have destroyed everything if they’d stayed in the Acropolis.”
“That’s what Elgin says…”
Helene glared at her. Enough about Elgin. She wanted to talk about another lord… one who was not a robber of marbles, but of sighs.
Gathering her courage, she opened her mouth to speak—
“Can you believe the sheer vitality of this marble piece?” Celeste said, pointing to the statue of Selene’s horse.
“It says here that he pulls the Moon Goddess’s chariot across the heavens all night. He seems thoroughly exhausted.”
Moon. Night.
A flush of heat surged through Helene, pulling her straight back to William’s hands on her, his frame straining against hers, taking her to the moon—again and again.
The memory made Helene gasp.
“Are you all right, dear?” Celeste touched her forehead. “You seem a little feverish.”
A wave of heat colored her cheeks. Perhaps the Elgin Gallery, with its tall windows and gleaming marbles, was not the place to share the news after all.
On second thought, keeping a secret seemed like the best decision—for now.
“I’m perfectly fine.” Helene tugged at her bodice. “Can we move on, please?”
They stopped before the next statue—a reclining god. One arm slung over his head, the other draped across his thigh.
“Dionysus—the bringer of ecstasy.”
“Oh, he seems so… so robust.” Celeste’s gaze dropped to the statue’s penis. “I wonder why the Greeks had to be so explicit about their male—ugh—proportions.”
“They were on the short side with this one,” Helene blurted out, then clapped a hand over her mouth.
Louise frowned. “How do you know?”
Helene felt a flush creeping up her neck. “I came across some… interesting engravings, that’s all—”
“You’re lying.” Louise’s eyes narrowed to daggers. “I can’t believe you would hide this from us. What happened?”
