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She looked across at Robert who was
    edging toward the door. «Robert, Lady Millhaven took me to
    Somerset House today to see an exhibition of the most
    interesting landscape pictures.»
    «Really, my lady?»
    «Are you sure she didn’t take you shopping?» Minshom asked,
    his mouth curling in apparent distaste.
    «Oh no, my lord. I have no money to shop. I have no money
    at all.» She opened her eyes wide at him. «I am totally dependent
    on the good will of my husband.»
    «As you should be.»
    Oh, she wanted to hurt him so badly. «As I should be.»
    His pale blue eyes narrowed. «I’m not convinced by this
    sudden wifely devotion, Jane, and I’m not going to change my
    mind.»
    «I understand that, my lord.» She turned her attention back to
    Robert, who looked distinctly uneasy. «Do you like art, Robert?»
    38 / Kate Pearce

    «Not particularly, my lady. Most of the time it seems a great
    fuss about nothing. I like a picture to look like what it’s supposed
    to be, not some watered-down blurry version of it.»
    «Then you would probably prefer the work of Mr. John
    Constable to that of Mr. Turner. He depicts ordinary scenes from
    farming and village life. One of his paintings was in the gallery
    today and I believe he has just been elected an associate of the
    Royal Academy.»
    Minshom cleared his throat and Jane paused to look at him.
    «When you’ve finished trying to educate my valet, perhaps we
    could eat?»
    «Of course, my lord. Isn’t Robert going to join us?»
    «Robert?»
    «I understood that he ate with you before my arrival. I would
    hate to disrupt your routine.»
    «No you damn well wouldn’t. You positively thrive on it,» he
    grumbled.
    Robert bowed. «It’s all right, my lady, I’m quite happy to eat
    in the kitchen.»
    «Leave him alone, Jane, and eat your dinner.» Minshom
    gestured at the footmen to remove the covers from the dishes.
    «You can all go—we’ll serve ourselves.»
    Jane waited until the staff filed out and shut the door behind
    them. She surveyed the dishes set before her and slowly inhaled.
    Minshom’s cook was from France and it showed. She wondered
    how Minshom remained so slender when faced with such
    delights on a daily basis. She wanted to sample everything, savor
    every single taste and flavor.
    «You are licking your lips in a decidedly salacious manner,
    Jane.»
    «I’m trying to decide what I should eat first. Your cook is very
    talented.»
    «He should be. He costs me enough.»
    SIMPLY INSATIABLE / 39
    Jane stood up to ladle some soup from the imposing china
    tureen in the center of the table. She took her time, aware of
    Blaize’s gaze fixed on the loose bodice of her old gown, the lush
    display of her breasts as they fought to escape the thin fabric.
    «Would you care for some soup, Blaize?»
    He took his time returning his gaze to her face.
    «No, thank you.»
    «Are you sure?» She held up her bowl, leaned farther forward
    to blow on the soup’s surface. «It smells delicious.»
    «I’m sure, thank you.»
    She smiled and sat back down, concentrated on eating her
    soup, on the freshness of leeks and cream against her tongue and
    the tang of parsley and pepper.
    «I wish you wouldn’t do that.»
    «Do what?»
    «Make that sound when you are enjoying your food.»
    «I make a noise?»
    «You do. It’s somewhere between a purr and a moan.»
    She held his gaze. «And that offends you?»
    «No, but it reminds me of the sounds you make when I make
    you come.»
    «You can remember that far back?»
    «Of course.»
    «I remember the first time you used your fingers and mouth
    on me. It was so shocking, and not what I had expected at all,
    and yet so... addictive.»
    He shrugged. «That’s the purpose of sex, isn’t it? To make our
    baser selves forget caution and simply mate.»
    Jane licked the rim of her spoon and studied her husband. He
    was so calm, so seemingly untroubled by his determination to
    reduce love and passion to their most primitive