The Valentine Legacy by Catherine Coulter Page A

gibberish.”
    â€œYes, of course. Why would I want to buy it if I couldn’t even read it?”
    â€œPerhaps just to put me in my place. Me and all the other ragtag Colonists. That’s it, isn’t it, James? You think we’re all ignorant buffoons.”
    â€œI’ve never thought you the least bit ignorant, Jessie, and how could I, given what you’re buying? Here you are reading a diary—something of historical interest. I’m impressed.”
    â€œBefore I got her on the diaries, she read every gothic tale I could find her.”
    â€œI’m not surprised,” James said, and laughed. She looked as if she wanted to peel a layer of skin off him, but she kept her mouth shut, which surprised him.
    Feeling a touch guilty, James thought he’d try to make it up to her. “Come on, Jessie, I’ll buy you an ice cream over on Baltimore Street. Would you like that?”
    She glowed with pleasure. “Perhaps I’d like it, just a little bit.”
    James paid Compton Fielding for the Corneille and escorted Jessie and her diary down Calvert Street. He was stunned to see she even had a parasol, a flowered confection that she held like a club. Her red hair was pulled too tightly back from her face and tied with a black velvet ribbon at her neck.
    â€œWe’re going to Balboney’s?”
    â€œThat’s right. Mr. Balboney’s son, Gray, wants to learn stud management. I’m thinking of taking him on.”
    â€œOh dear.”
    â€œâ€˜Oh dear’ what?”
    â€œThere’s your mistress, James, Mrs. Maxwell. She’s waving at you.”
    Sure enough, Connie Maxwell was just across the street standing in front of Hezekiah Niles’s newspaper office, waving frantically at him. He waved back, motioning her to wait for him. He turned back to Jessie. “For God’s sake, you’re not supposed to know anything about mistresses.”
    â€œPerhaps not, but Glenda knows all about her. I heard her discussing Mrs. Maxwell with Mama. Glenda’s afraid you’ll marry Mrs. Maxwell and not her, but Mama said that wouldn’t happen. Mrs. Maxwell is too old for you and you’ll want sons, and she is too old for that as well. She said you’d want a young virgin, a lady who is malleable and submissive and sweet, someone who would bring you money, someone just like Glenda. She did allow, though, that Mrs. Maxwell was very fine-looking, which she is. She’s lovely. She doesn’t look at all old.”
    James stared at her, fascinated by what was coming so guilelessly out of that mouth of hers. “Jessie, I have no intention of marrying your sister.”
    â€œYou don’t?”
    There it was: that hopeful look, as wistful as that of a child being offered a Christmas cookie.
    â€œNo. Were you eavesdropping again?”
    â€œOh, no. Well, maybe. Sometimes they talk in front of me. It’s as if I’m not there.”
    â€œBut this time they didn’t? You eavesdropped?”
    â€œYes. At least I didn’t fall through the door or make any noise.”
    â€œJessie, do you know what a mistress is?”
    â€œShe’s someone you mount whenever you want to.”
    â€œHorses mount. Humans have sex. Do you know what sex is all about?”
    â€œI suppose it’s a lot like the stallions and the mares, regardless of what you say. All very loud and messy and painful.”
    â€œPainful?”
    â€œThe mares are always screaming and thrashing around, and the stallions bite their necks and rumps. But they keep doing it, so I suppose it must please them. Sweet Susie was eager for any stallion available, even poor old Benjie. When we were racing away from those men, I told Benjie to promise Sweet Susie that he’d give her anything she wanted just as long as she ran as fast as she could. She did run fast, James.”
    â€œJessie, I can’t believe this conversation. Now, I want you to go to