Read My Wicked Little Lies Online

Authors: Victoria Alexander

My Wicked Little Lies (8 page)

BOOK: My Wicked Little Lies
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“I have any number of varied interests as you are well aware. And I have always been fascinated by antiquities. Goodness, Adrian, why else would I be here?”
“You were hiding behind the desk when I came in.”
“Nonsense.” She scoffed. “I wasn’t hiding. I had dropped one of my ear bobs and was simply retrieving it. I was just about to stand when I heard you and Lady Dunwell.”
“And you were compelled to listen?”
She stared at him as if he were quite mad. “I could do nothing else.”
“No, I suppose you couldn’t.” He glanced at her ear bobs. “I see you found it and managed to put it back on while hiding behind the desk.”
“Fortunately. And again, I wasn’t hiding.” She touched the garnet bauble dangling from her left ear. “But I shall have to take it to the jeweler tomorrow. The clasp is apparently defective and I should hate to lose it.”
His expression eased. “No, of course not.”
The man was obviously suspicious. It was not at all like him. Certainly her manner had been somewhat distracted of late, but his attitude was still most annoying. She drew her brows together. “Surely you do not suspect me of engaging in something untoward?”
“Of course not,” he said staunchly. “I trust you every bit as much as you trust me.”
“As well
you
should.” She cast him a sympathetic smile. “You look confused, darling.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “This was not ...” He shook his head. “No matter. You have become a most confusing woman, my dear.”
“Well, I should hate to have become boring.” She smiled in her most flirtatious manner. “You might turn to one of the Lady Dunwells of the world.”
“There is little chance of that. And I daresay, you will never be boring.”
“
We
will never be boring.” She favored him with a wicked smile. “I shall count on you to make certain of that.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I think I’ve had enough of this gathering.”
Desire fluttered through her. “You have the best ideas, Adrian.”
He grinned and pulled open the door. Lord Radington stood with his hand outstretched. Surprise colored his face, turning almost at once to appreciation. Only a woman long in her grave would fail to be flattered. He was a handsome devil and he well knew it.
“Lady Waterston.” He reached for her hand and drew it to his lips. His gaze bored into hers. The thought flitted through her mind that he and Mr. Sayers had precisely the same overly practiced manner. She didn’t know Mr. Sayers, but Lord Radington’s reputation with women was infamous. A reputation she had once seen the proof of firsthand but never to the extent the gentleman had wanted. As dashing as he was, she had never found him as irresistible as other women did. Or as irresistible as he found himself. He slipped a folded note into his waistcoat pocket. Triumph curved his lips. “What a delightful and unexpected surprise. It has been a long time. You are looking lovelier than ever tonight.” Obviously he hadn’t noticed her husband.
“My lord,” she murmured.
“Radington,” Adrian said curtly. And just as obviously, Adrian was not pleased to see the lothario.
“Lord Waterston, my apologies.” A flicker of disappointment shone in his eyes but his tone was level. Lord Radington was well used to dealing with suspicious husbands. “I didn’t see you.”
“Imagine that.” Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
Evie stared at her husband. He had been acting rather strange of late as well.
“I was ...” Lord Radington peered around them into the library. “I came ...” His speculative gaze slid to Evelyn. Heat rose in her cheeks. It had been some time since another man had looked at her like that. As if he were stripping her naked right here and now. Utter nonsense. “Ah well, it scarcely matters.”
“Perhaps you came to see the sword collection?” Adrian said coolly.
“Why else would I be here?” Lord Radington cast Evie another glance, then sauntered to the wall bearing the display. “Fascinating. Don’t you agree, Waterston?”
“I do.” Adrian studied the swords. “The broadswords are especially impressive. One could slice off a man’s head with one well-placed swing.”
Lord Radington chuckled. “If one wished to, I suppose.”
There was a look in Adrian’s eye as if he wished to do that very thing to the younger man. Surely he didn’t think ...
“Although I have always been fond of a finely honed rapier. Excellent for fencing.” Adrian shrugged. “Or dueling.”
“Dueling is no longer legal although it was probably common in your day,” Lord Radington said with a casual smile.
“Yes, well,
in my day
, dueling was an acceptable, indeed, an expected means of defending one’s honor or one’s property.” His eyes narrowed so slightly only Evelyn would have noticed. “Or one’s wife.”
Good Lord! At once Evelyn realized her husband thought she’d come to the library to meet Lord Radington. The dear man was jealous. How utterly absurd. But rather delightful nonetheless.
“Then I am no doubt fortunate it is outlawed,” Lord Radington said blithely.
“Pity,” Adrian said under his breath. “Do you fence?”
“On occasion.” An uneasy note sounded in Lord Radington’s voice, and he slanted Evelyn a quick glance as if asking for her intervention. She cast him a pleasant smile.
“Perhaps we can meet for a match someday.” Adrian’s polite smile very nearly masked the intent gleam in his eye.
In spite of her best intentions, Evelyn laughed. Both men turned indignant looks on her.
“What,” Adrian said in a cool voice, “might I ask is so amusing?”
“Not a thing, darling.” She beamed at her husband. “A random thought crossed my mind, nothing of importance.” She took her husband’s arm. “We have been gone far too long and I should like another dance before we leave for the evening.”
He stared down at her as if he were trying to read her thoughts. “As you wish.”
“Good evening, Lord Radington.” She cast the man a grateful smile.
He, too, looked at her as if trying to read her mind. He nodded. “Lady Waterston.”
“In my day,” Adrian said under his breath as they strolled back toward the ballroom. “The man can’t be more than five years younger than I.”
“The nerve of the man.” Evelyn bit back a laugh. She’d never imagined Adrian, who was not the least bit vain, had a touch of vanity when it came to his age. He was a mere thirty-eight and was as fine a figure of a man as she’d ever met. Still, she’d never imagined him to be a jealous sort either. Odd the things one learned when one had thought there was nothing left to learn. She chatted brightly about anything amusing that came into her head, and by the time they reached the ballroom, Adrian’s mood had lightened.
She knew she should have been upset that he was even a little jealous. And any other time she would have been. But proving she was not unfaithful, should it ever come to that, would be far easier than explaining what she was involved in. That would inevitably lead to what she had done in the past. She certainly wasn’t going to do anything to encourage Adrian in thinking she was seeing another man, but for now, she wasn’t going to entirely correct his erroneous assumption.
His mistake might well be her salvation.
 
 
Celeste slipped out of bed and danced out of the way of the hand reaching to pull her back.
“Don’t go.” Max groaned. “Come back.”
“As much as I would like nothing better, I’m afraid I must be going.”
“You never stay the night.” He struggled to sit up. “It’s insulting.”
“Don’t be absurd.” She looked around for her clothes, discarded in their usual haste to touch and taste and partake of the pleasures they found in each other. “How on earth is it insulting?”
“You come to my home. You take liberties with my person—”
“Liberties?” She laughed.
“You have your way with me—”
She raised a brow. “Are you complaining?”
He ignored her. “And then you leave me.” He heaved a sigh worthy of the most poorly trained thespian. “I feel like a ... a trollop.”
“A trollop?”
“A common trollop.” He plucked at the bedcovers. “It’s not at all pleasant and I don’t like it one bit.”
“My apologies,” she said absently. Her clothes lay scattered over the floor in a haphazard trail from the door to the bed, her corset hung tipsily from the bedpost, and good Lord—was that her chemise dangling from the sconce? “Are you familiar with karma?”
“Moral causation? The idea that one gets what one deserves?”
She nodded.
His brows drew together. “Prevalent in Eastern religions, I believe. Buddhism, I think.”
“Very good, Max,” she said wryly. “I do so love a man who is well read.”
“I am nothing if not well read.” He grinned and patted the bed beside him. “I’d be happy to demonstrate exactly what else I do well.”
“You are too generous.”
His wicked grin widened. “You have no idea how generous I can be.”
“Oh, I have some idea.” She studied him for a moment. Lord, he was a handsome beast. All that blond hair, tousled now, he had the look of a small boy. If one ignored the lascivious gleam in his bright blue eyes and the evidence of his growing excitement beneath the sheet. The man was insatiable and bloody well irresistible. “Don’t you find it ironic that a man like you, who has left the beds of who knows how many women, now finds himself in precisely the same position?”
“First karma, now irony.” He narrowed his eyes in feigned suspicion. “Are you saying I’m getting precisely what I deserve?”
She smiled and pulled on her chemise.
“Well, I don’t like it.”
“Now you’re pouting and it’s not at all attractive.” In truth, though, it was rather endearing. Sir Maxwell Osgood was not the type of man to pout.
“Do help me with this.” She looked at him over her shoulder, holding the sides of her corset together behind her back.
“I would be delighted.” He stood and crossed the room. Most men tended to look better with clothes on. Max was not one of them. She never tired of looking at him naked. He took the laces and tugged them tight. “There’s something about this I like.”
“You were no doubt a ladies’ maid in a previous life.”
He bent to kiss the back of her neck and she shivered. His lips murmured against her skin. “I doubt that. Although it would have its benefits ...”
He straightened and tied the laces, then spun her around and pulled her into his arms. “Tell me again why you won’t stay.”
“I tell you every time I’m here.” She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “I have servants, you know, and I am trying to live a proper sort of life. Servants talk, and as the house belongs to Evelyn, I daresay it would only be a matter of time before she wondered what I did with my evenings if she learned I was not returning to my own bed.” She shook her head. “She is my dearest friend. I do so hate lying to her.”
“It’s not lying, really. You said yourself she never asks what you do in the evenings.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Celeste said slowly. “Still, she might well consider my presence with her at all a lie.”
“Celeste.” A warning sounded in his voice.
“Yes, yes I know.” She huffed. “You and Sir thought it was necessary. But she would certainly take my leaving the department to keep an eye on her, and provide protection if necessary, as deceit at the very least.”
“She will never find out,” he said firmly.
“Regardless, I am going to endeavor to lie less in the future.” She paused. “To Evelyn and everyone else.”
“Rubbish.” He laughed. “Everybody lies.”
“I do so hate lying.” She sighed. “Obviously I’ve changed.”
“Two years of proper behavior will do that to you.” He pulled her tighter against him.
“It hasn’t been entirely proper,” she said under her breath.
“Thank God.” He lowered his head to kiss that sensitive spot between her ear and her jaw, and she moaned softly. The man knew exactly what to do to make her melt in his arms.
She drew a deep breath and pushed away. “That’s quite enough.” She cast him a chastising look. “Do you think you could at least don a dressing gown?”
“I’m tempting you to stay, aren’t I?” He grinned wickedly but grabbed his dressing gown nonetheless. She found her skirts and stepped into them, then slipped into her shoes.
“Not at all,” she said in a lofty manner. “I am simply concerned that you will catch your death of cold.”
“I didn’t know you cared.”
“Of course I care.” She was buttoning the last button on her polonaise when his arms slipped around her from behind.
“I’m glad.” He nuzzled her neck.
“I would hate for anything to happen to you,” she said brusquely, sounding rather more affectionate than she’d intended. She much preferred not to reveal her emotions.
BOOK: My Wicked Little Lies
8.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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