Darian Hunter: Duke of Desire by Carole Mortimer

Author:Carole Mortimer [Mortimer, Carole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-12-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

‘Good gracious!’ Darian winced up at the pale pink marble structure of what could only be described as a miniature copy of the Greek Parthenon he had visited whilst taking the Grand Tour ten years ago or more.

Nestled amongst the woodland to the left of the lake at Eton Park, exactly as Benson had said it would be, it had six small Doric-style marble columns fronting the building, with ten more along each side, and a domed cupola on the roof. And standing in pride of place before the huge wooden doors at its entrance was a nude statue, of what Darian could only assume was Aphrodite, cupping and stroking her own breast.

A nude statue that should not have been there, considering that, if Darian remembered his Greek mythology correctly, the Parthenon in Greece was dedicated to Athena, the virginal goddess of wisdom and philosophy.

‘I can only assume that Lord and Lady Nicholses’ knowledge of the Greek gods must be as lacking as their good taste,’ Mariah drawled beside him, revealing that her own knowledge on the subject was not lacking at all.

Darian chuckled huskily. ‘One does not need to make assumptions once they have seen this.’

Mariah’s eyes danced merrily as she glanced up at him. ‘It does err rather on the side of ostentatious.’

‘That is one word for it!’ Darian gave a disgusted shake of his head. ‘I sincerely hope that Benson is not of the opinion that the two of us share his employers’ bad taste!’

Mariah peered around the statue at the huge oak doors. ‘What do you think is inside?’

‘Even more lewd statues?’

‘Perhaps,’ she murmured distractedly as she moved forward to rest one gloved hand on the handle of the door. ‘Shall we go inside and see?’ she invited huskily.

Darian had to admit to feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders since leaving the oppression of the Nicholses’ household, having enjoyed being out in the fresh air with Mariah walking companionably beside him and wearing a pelisse and bonnet the same russet colour as her gown.

He was in no hurry to forgo that feeling of companionship by entering what he could only assume, in the knowledge of the Nicholses’ tastes, and Benson’s warning that it would not be empty this evening, was more than likely to be a place where the Nicholses continued their debauchery. ‘I doubt it will be any more tasteful inside than out.’ He grimaced.

Mariah turned the handle and pushed open the door. ‘We will not know— Oh!’ She gave a gasp as she stepped inside. ‘Oh, do come and look, Darian,’ she encouraged breathlessly. ‘It is— You will never believe what is in here!’

Darian found himself moving forward to join Mariah inside the temple, partially lured there at having her address him by his first name, something she rarely did voluntarily, but also out of the need to discover exactly what sort of debauchery had awaited her inside and rendered her so breathless.

Darian felt the

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