Venus by Jane Feather

brought heart-stopping radiance to the face now upturned to his. “But how very awkward to have letters that don’t mean anything.”
    “Isn’t it,” he agreed, pressing a fingertip on the end of her nose in one of the casually affectionate gestures that were now so natural for him to administer and for Polly to receive. “I gather you left the house without leave this afternoon.” An eyebrow lifted quizzically as he returned to his seat.
    Polly did not immediately respond, and he did not press her, concentrating on the business of setting a taper to his clay pipe. “So she told you,” Polly said finally, folding her hands on the table in front of her.
    “She did.” Nick drew on his pipe, narrowing his eyes against the curl of smoke. The list of Polly’s infractions presented to him by his rigidly furious sister-in-law grew daily longer and increasingly tedious. “Could you perhaps see your way to telling me the occasion for it?”
    A smile flickered at the corners of her mouth at this exaggeratedly polite request. “Had I asked for leave, it would not have been granted,” she replied unarguably. “Then I would have been obliged to add disobedience to my offenses.”
    “It is there already,” he commented dryly. “But pray tell me where you went.” He threw her a shrewd look. “Unless you hold secrets?”
    A tinge of pink showed against her cheekbone. “There is no secret. I had a great desire to visit Drury Lane, to see the king’s playhouse, mayhap also—” She paused, then shrugged, seeming to make up her mind. “I thought, perhaps, to see Master Killigrew, to bring myself to his notice.”
    “You thought, in short, to take matters into your own hands, matters that we had agreed were best left in mine.” Nicholas spoke harshly, knowing that he must nip this impatient independence in the bud. “Perhaps you will tell me what I have done to earn your mistrust. Am I not fulfilling my side of the bargain? Permit me to tell you that you do not appear to be overly scrupulous in fulfilling yours.”
    Large tears welled in Polly’s eyes, falling down her cheeks to splash onto the table in front of her. “No!” Nick exclaimed, pushing back his chair with abrupt violence. “If those tears do not cease instantly, I shall ensure that they have cause to be genuine! You forget that I am become quite familiar with your tricks.”
    “It is a very useful accomplishment,” said Polly, aggrieved, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.
    “Doubtless.” He resumed his seat, then yielded to his curiosity, although he had no desire to offer encouragement for her more dubious feats. “Just how do you achieve it?”
    “I think sad thoughts,” she told him. “You were scolding me in that horrid way, and it was all for nothing, anyway, since the playhouse was closed up and I did not see anyone—and I am most dreadfully hungry,” she finished on a plaintive note.
    “Why ever should you be hungry?” Nick took the scent of his wine, frowning at her.
    “For the reason that I have had no supper and am to have no breakfast,” she said tartly. “You do not entirely keep your promises, sir. I understood that Lady Margaret was to have no jurisdiction over me. My stomach tells me otherwise.”
    Nick let his breath out in a low whistle. “Why did you not tell me of this straightway?”
    “To have told you of the punishment, I would have had to tell you of the offense,” she said candidly. “If you did not know of it, I had thought it best kept to myself.”
    “With some wisdom.” He could not help smiling, recognizing the familiar pattern. She would exasperate him with her impatience and vociferous complaints about her present mode of existence, but then that enchanting ingenuousness disarmed him every time. “However, I am done scolding, so why do you not repair to the kitchen and fetch yourself some supper? Bring it back here.”
    “And theft will be added to my crimes,” Polly declared, although