Читать книгу My Wicked Little Lies - Victoria Alexander - Страница 13

Chapter 5

“The Earl and Countess of Waterston,” the major-domo chimed at the top of the entry stairs to Lord Dunwell’s ballroom.

“Tell me again why we are here,” Adrian said out of the corner of his mouth, a smile plastered firmly on his face.

Evelyn resisted the urge to nudge him with her elbow. “Because it’s good for you politically to be seen here.” They started down the stairs. “Besides, I couldn’t think of a plausible excuse. And a shabby excuse would only have provided fodder for Lady Dunwell. You know she has the ear of everyone of importance and can be a dreadful gossip when it suits her purposes.”

“I thought that was among the reasons we weren’t going to come.”

“It was.” She squeezed his arm. “Courage, my love. We shall no doubt have a delightful time, and regardless, the evening will be at an end before you know it.”

“Hmph.” Adrian scoffed but no one would have known his thoughts from the expression on his face. He was very good at this sort of thing. He greeted their hosts with a pleasant—and apparently genuine—smile. “Lady Dunwell, you look lovely this evening but then you always do.”

Lady Dunwell smiled into Adrian’s eyes. Evelyn tried not to clench her teeth. Beryl Dunwell was the epitome of blond, English beauty. And with his dark hair and dark blue eyes, her husband was a very handsome man. No doubt, they would have made a stunning couple.

“And you are as charming as ever, my lord.” Lady Dunwell practically cooed the words. “I do hope we will have a dance together later.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Adrian said.

Lady Dunwell turned her gaze from Adrian, reluctantly, Evelyn thought, to his wife. “And my dear Lady Waterston.” As always, her tone carried a slightly superior edge, as if Evelyn were some sort of upstart, here under false pretenses. Her gaze flicked over Evelyn’s gown. “Enchanting. French?”

“Of course,” Evelyn said smoothly. It was indeed French although it was not new. Damn it all. If she had originally planned to come here tonight, she would have had something new made.

Lord Dunwell nodded to Adrian and smiled in a polite manner. “So good of you to come, Waterston.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” Adrian said as if he meant it.

If Adrian could be said to have a rival in politics, it would be Dunwell, although Adrian would never have admitted such a relationship existed. He found that sort of competitive rivalry distasteful. Politics, he often said, isn’t always a noble profession but should be. There was little noble about Dunwell. The man was the very definition of ambitious. On occasion, Evelyn had thought Adrian could use a touch more of that himself, a bit more passion perhaps. But then he wouldn’t be the man he was: calm, secure, and stable. And all she’d ever wanted.

“Lady Waterston.” Dunwell greeted her with a vaguely lecherous smile. She was neither offended nor flattered. It had been Evelyn’s experience that he looked at every woman who was at all attractive in that same manner. Still, one would be wise not to encourage him. “How very delightful to see you.”

“Thank you for having us,” she said with just the right amount of polite enthusiasm in her voice. And Celeste thought she was the actress.

Lord Dunwell cast her a lingering look, then turned and introduced them to the Spanish ambassador and his wife. Distinguished in appearance with an impressive mustache, the diplomat kissed her hand with continental formality. His wife, by his side, was most charming and struck Evelyn as the type of lady who would be as at home on horseback in the country as she was at a grand ball.

They moved away from the receiving line and Evelyn surveyed the room. The music had already begun and the floor was filled with dancers. More than half of the people here were those they knew but then that was always the case. It was oddly comforting to feel as though one fit in one’s surroundings, as though one belonged.

“Would you care for some refreshment or would you prefer to dance first?” Adrian said.

She smiled up at him. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Silly of me, I know.” He chuckled and led her onto the dance floor and into a waltz.

Dancing in his arms, Evelyn could very nearly forget everything, save the music washing through her soul and the feel of his warmth surrounding her. There was nothing in the world like dancing with her husband. She wondered if dancing, and all else between them, would always be as wonderful as it was right now. She did hope so. She fully intended to grow old dancing in his arms. “You know, you quite swept me off my feet the very first time we danced together.”

“I recall it was much later that I swept you off your feet.” Desire flashed in his eyes and her knees weakened. Good Lord, what the man still did to her after two years of marriage.

“Yes, well, indeed you did.” She swallowed. “But that first dance was when I fell in love with you.”

“Did you?” His brows drew together. “How very disappointing.”

“Disappointing?” She arched a brow. “How is that disappointing?”

“I have always thought you fell in love with me the first time you laid eyes on me.” He shook his head in a sorrowful manner. “I thought it was love at first sight.”

She bit back a grin. “Darling, if I were to confess to that, it would go directly to your head. And you are far too arrogant already.”

“I prefer the word confident.”

“Yes, I know,” she said primly. “Precisely why I chose arrogant.”

“To keep me from becoming too confident?” He guided her through a perfect turn. But then they did dance perfectly together, and had from the very beginning. As though they were made one for the other. As indeed, they were.

“Too arrogant.” She laughed. “Although I once heard it said that two of the attributes most desirable in a man are a little arrogance and the willingness to laugh.”

“I think I laugh exceptionally well.” He expertly maneuvered her around another couple. “When we return home, I should be happy to demonstrate some of my other skills.”

“Oh, I am a fortunate woman.”

“Yes, you are.” His tone was matter-of-fact but his eyes twinkled. “No doubt the envy of every woman here.”

“Well, this is a very nice gown.”

He laughed.

“Which reminds me, I’m not at all sure I want you to dance with our hostess.”

“Ah, well, I can understand that.”

“Can you?”

“Indeed.” He nodded. “Her gown is quite lovely as well. The latest fashion from France, I believe.”

“Your sisters and I have you well trained. But I am not so shallow as to prefer you not dance with a lady because of her gown.” She glanced at Lady Dunwell over Adrian’s shoulder. “I don’t like the way she looks at you. As if you were dessert and she is considering how very tasty you might be.”

“I am exceptionally tasty.”

“Yes, you are, but I am unwilling to share my dessert.”

“Nor does this dessert wish to be shared.” He grinned. “But Beryl Dunwell looks that way at every man.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Evelyn said firmly. “You are the one who evaded her clutches. And she is not a woman to give up easily.”

“Nonsense, she only turned her attention to me when Richard proved uninterested.”

“Your sisters have told me she pursued you for several years.”

“Unsuccessfully,” he said firmly. “And then I met you and I was lost. Besides that was two years ago.” He shrugged as best he could without a misstep. “She is now married to Dunwell, whose ambition suits her own.”

“You are a better catch than Dunwell,” she said.

“Yes, I am.”

“You do realize there is such a thing as too much confidence?”

He chuckled.

“Women like her do not give up easily.” She shook her head. “It’s only been a mere two years.”

He stared down at her. “Why, you’re jealous, Evie.”

“It is a lovely gown,” she said in a lofty manner.

He laughed.

“Very well.” She huffed. “I am always jealous, darling. You are a most accomplished man and quite handsome as well. Any woman would be ecstatic to have you.”

“Ah, but you are the loveliest woman in the room. And I am the luckiest man.”

“Yes.” She met his gaze directly. “You are.”

It was a joke between them, which was the luckier to have the other. Although in truth, she had always thought she was the lucky one, and no one knew that better than she did herself.

He laughed again and held her a bit tighter than was proper. Not that she minded. The music swelled around them, the whirl of dancers surrounded them, and it would all have been quite perfect. If only ...

She responded to his banter but her mind drifted. She had found Adrian at very nearly the perfect moment in her life. He had been precisely what she’d needed then and remained so to this day. She knew without question he loved her as she loved him. Still, if he knew what she had been, the things she had done, wouldn’t that love be, at the very least, tarnished? At worst destroyed?

“I have been thinking of late ...”

He led her through another turn and she followed him without effort. Nonsense. Adrian, of all the people she knew, would understand duty and responsibility and loyalty. What he might not be able to understand was deception. Not that she had ever actually lied to him. Not in the strictest definition of the word. It was admittedly a fine point. One he might not agree with wholeheartedly. The man was the most forthright, honest person she’d ever met.

“A mistress for me perhaps and ...”

And they had both agreed their respective pasts were behind them. Still, his past consisted of amorous affairs and roguish living and all those sorts of behaviors second sons with too much time and money and few responsibilities tended to indulge in. Certainly, he had handled many of his family’s business affairs for years as he had a head for such things and apparently Richard had not.

“A lover for you ...”

“Only fair,” she said absently.

Still, he wasn’t the heir, and from what she’d been told, he’d seen no need to behave as one. It had all changed, of course, when Richard died.

“I do think Lady Dunwell might ...”

But Adrian had more than lived up to expectations. Indeed, he had taken on the responsibilities of his position as if he, and not his older brother, had been the one destined for the title. The music drew to a close and she barely noticed.

“We’re agreed then.”

“What?” She looked up at him.

He escorted her off the floor. “You haven’t heard a word I said.”

“Nonsense. I was listening quite closely. You said—” She stopped and stared. “What did you say?”

“I suggested that we might pursue new interests. Life has been rather dull of late. I was thinking a mistress, a lover.” He shrugged. “That sort of thing.”

“Adrian!” Shock coursed through her. “Surely you aren’t serious?” At once his words popped into her head. “And Lady Dunwell? Why, I would shoot you myself before I would permit such a thing. Whatever are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking it’s a sad state of affairs when a man can’t command the attention of his own wife,” he said wryly.

She narrowed her eyes. “You were teasing me.”

He chuckled.

“It was not the least bit amusing.”

“It was most amusing.”

She sniffed. “Perhaps if you had named any woman other than Lady Dunwell, there might have been some humor in it.”

“That was the best part.” He accepted two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed her one. “You deserved it.”

She raised a brow. “Because I was not paying attention to your every word?”

“Absolutely.”

“You are an arrogant man, my lord.”

“Confident.” He grinned, then sobered. “You are preoccupied tonight and you are never preoccupied. I don’t like it. It’s disturbing.”

“My apologies for disturbing you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He frowned. “But this isn’t like you, and I confess I am a bit worried.”

Her tone softened. “I’m certain it’s the weather, Adrian. It’s endless and dreary and spring is never going to come.”

“Spring will come.” His tone was matter-of-fact but his gaze searched hers. “It always does.”

She smiled into eyes shadowed with concern. The man was most perceptive and he knew her entirely too well. She was a fool to think she could hide anything from him. Still, at the moment, it couldn’t be helped. And it was time she stopped feeling pitiful and confronted the task at hand. The sooner she accomplished what was required of her, the sooner she could put the past firmly behind her forever. And banish that look of worry in her husband’s eyes.

“You’re right, of course. Although I do wish there were some way to hurry it along.”

“The druids held rites to hurry spring.” Adrian sipped his champagne. “Under the stars. Naked, I believe.”

She stared at him. “That’s nonsense.”

“Not at all. The druids had all sorts of rites.”

She scoffed. “Not naked.”

“Not that we know.” He shrugged. “However, there is little of accuracy known about the ancient peoples who once inhabited this land.” He gazed over the ballroom as if he were looking into the long-distant past. “I like to think most of their ritual dances were undertaken without clothes.”

“Adrian!”

“You would have made an excellent druid.”

“Not in this weather,” she murmured.

“Especially in this weather,” he said firmly. “It wouldn’t be worth it otherwise.” He studied her in a thoughtful manner. “Perhaps, given how the weather has affected you of late, you should try it.”

She raised a brow. “You’re suggesting I dance naked under the stars? In London?”

“It is something to consider.” He thought for a moment. “Admittedly, it might prove awkward with the neighbors, but I do know I would appreciate it. Although, on the roof ...”

“You are the most proper man I know, Adrian.” She shook her head in a mournful manner. “And yet you have a decidedly wicked streak.”

He cast her a most wicked smile.

She heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “I like it.”

He sipped his wine. “I know.”

She laughed. No, it would always be as wonderful between them as it was right now. She would make certain of it. As soon as she laid the past to rest. Still, as much as she was eager to find Dunwell’s library, patience being a virtue she needed to cultivate, she couldn’t appear too eager to leave her husband’s side. They had barely arrived and there would be more than enough time to slip away later.

“Now then.” She plucked his glass from his hand and passed his glass and hers to a waiter. “I should very much like to be swept off my feet again.”

“Here? In front of everyone?” He shook his head. “That would be most improper. And I do think our hosts would object.” He paused. “If we were discovered. If not ...”

She laughed. “I was speaking of another dance, darling, and you well know it.” She took his arm and led him back to the dance floor. He took her hand in his and she leaned close and spoke softly into his ear. “But later, I shall sweep you off your feet.”

His brow rose. “And you claim I am the one with the wicked streak.”

“We are well matched.”

They danced two more sets, and while Evelyn now paid attention to every word her husband said, she also took the opportunity to study the ballroom. She’d been here once before but had no idea where the library was. In the past, she would have been provided with the plans for the house. No matter. It was simple enough to ask a servant for directions. Such a query wouldn’t be considered unusual. Not that a servant would question a guest under any circumstances. But it was not at all uncommon, at a gathering of this size, for guests to wander from the ballroom, out of curiosity or in search of a moment of privacy or for a prearranged meeting for one purpose or another. If discovered, she would simply explain she was curious to see Lord Dunwell’s collection as she had been told it was quite exceptional. Not that she knew what his lordship collected or indeed if he collected anything at all, but most gentlemen of her acquaintance did so. Why, even Adrian had a small but valuable collection of ancient Greek coins.

“Isn’t that your cousin Portia?” she asked when the second dance drew to a close. She nodded toward the far side of the room. Portia’s parents had died when she was very young and she’d been taken in by the Hadley-Attwaters. Adrian’s mother considered Portia every bit as much her child as she did Adrian, his brothers, and his sisters.

Adrian nodded. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised. No doubt Mother is here somewhere as well.” He chuckled. “She does not give up easily.”

He took her arm and they headed toward his cousin. Lady Waterston’s determination to see each of her children happily wed was an ongoing topic of discussion within the family and most amusing to those siblings who were already married. The dowager countess had a list of who should be wed next and she concentrated her matchmaking efforts on that unfortunate child. Portia, widowed three years ago, was currently at the top of the list and had found it necessary to flee to Italy this past Christmas to escape her aunt’s efforts.

Portia spotted them and waved.

They made their way toward her. Adrian leaned close to his wife and spoke softly. “Do you think she might have met someone in Italy?”

“Surely she would have mentioned something of that magnitude,” Evelyn said. They’d seen Portia only once since her return, and that was at the wedding of Adrian’s youngest brother, Sebastian. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason really. Just an odd impression I had when we last saw her.”

“Portia has never been known for her ability to keep secrets.”

“No, you’re right.” A thoughtful note sounded in Adrian’s voice. “Portia would certainly have said something.” He chuckled. “If only to keep Mother from introducing her to yet another eligible bachelor.”

“Good evening, Adrian. Evelyn, how wonderful to see you.” Portia kissed Evelyn’s cheek and spoke low into her ear. “Save me.”

Evelyn widened her eyes. “From what?”

A waiter handed them each a glass of champagne. Portia downed hers in scarcely more than a swallow. “Aunt Helena, of course.” She turned to Adrian. “Your mother is in rare form tonight, Cousin. Every time I turn around, she is introducing me to yet another candidate for my hand. All of whom seem to think the way to my heart is by stepping on my feet and clutching me entirely too tightly in the guise of dancing.” Portia lowered her voice in a confidential manner. “One more dance and I daresay I shall be crippled for life. As my favorite cousin, I beg of you to rescue me.”

“Your favorite, you say?” He eyed her skeptically. “I thought Sebastian was your favorite?”

Portia huffed. “Sebastian is my favorite youngest male cousin. You are my favorite oldest male cousin.”

He bit back a smile. “And Hugh?”

“Hugh is my favorite ...” She searched for the right word. “Barrister cousin, yes, that’s it.” Desperation sounded in her voice. “Now will you help me?”

“What do you want me to do?” Adrian said cautiously. No doubt growing up with seven siblings had taught him not to agree to anything they asked without sufficient information.

“Would you be so good as to drive me home?” She peered past them into the crowd. “Now if you please. Before Aunt Helena returns with yet another victim in tow.” She shuddered. “I have had quite enough.”

“I am sorry, Portia.” Sympathy coursed through Evelyn. “But we have scarcely been here any time at all. Leaving now would be considered most impolite.”

“Nonsense.” Portia scoffed. “You don’t even like Lady Dunwell. Not that I blame you,” she added quickly.

“If you could manage to survive for, oh, say another hour or so ...” Adrian glanced at his wife.

Evelyn nodded. That should give her enough time. “That would be sufficient, I think. Another hour wouldn’t make it appear as though we were eager to leave.”

“Not that we aren’t,” Adrian muttered, then smiled at his cousin. “And then we would be delighted to see you home.”

Portia groaned. “In another hour or so, your mother will have me married with a dozen children.”

Adrian choked back a laugh.

Portia glared. “It’s not the least bit amusing.”

“Of course not, dear.” Evelyn patted the younger woman’s arm.

Adrian cleared his throat. “My apologies.” He studied his cousin. “I thought you wanted to marry again.”

“Indeed, I do. But I wish to marry someone who is not thrust at me. As if he were a canary and I was a ... a ... a hungry cat!” Indignation sounded in her voice. “I am perfectly capable of finding a husband on my own.”

“Not thus far,” Adrian said under his breath.

Evelyn cast him a chastising frown.

Portia ignored him, her brow furrowed in thought. “However, this is an exceptionally large and pretentious house. Perhaps I can find a peaceful place to, well, hide until you are ready to depart.”

Excellent! Evelyn nodded. “And the least I can do is help you find a suitable spot.”

“A parlor perhaps?” Portia thought for a moment. “Surely they have a music room? I know there’s a conservatory. Or a library?”

“No,” Evelyn said quickly. “You never know who might show up in a library. But a parlor is an excellent idea.”

“It’s rather cowardly, though, don’t you think?” Adrian said mildly. “Hiding from Mother, that is.”

“Yes. And I don’t care.” Portia glared at her cousin. “Thus far this evening I have been presented to one gentleman who was not looking so much for a wife as a mother for his herd of children and another who, well, let us simply say he was not to my liking.”

“Judging on appearances, Portia?” Adrian shook his head in a disappointed manner. “I never imagined you were that shallow.”

“Stop teasing her, dear,” Evelyn said under her breath. The banter and teasing—some of which struck her as altogether too pointed—between the Hadley-Attwater siblings never failed to amaze her. It was as if they could say very nearly anything to one another yet it never affected their feelings for each other. She quite envied them. She hoped her children would share that same sort of bond.

“I simply want someone who stands taller than my chin,” Portia said sharply. “I do not think I am asking for the moon.”

“Perhaps not.” Amusement gleamed in Adrian’s eyes.

“As for my shallow nature, I am more than willing to debate that with you at another time.” Portia cast Evelyn a pleading look. “Now, I think we should—”

“Too late, I fear,” Adrian said, gazing over Portia’s head.

Portia groaned. Evelyn peered around her. Helena was bearing down on them, accompanied by a fair-haired gentleman. Well, well. Portia certainly couldn’t complain about the appearance of this candidate. He appeared to be an appropriate age and was most dashing as well.

“Adrian!” Helena beamed at her son. “And Evelyn. So lovely to see you both. I had no idea you would be here tonight.”

“Nor did we, Mother.” Adrian kissed her cheek.

“Nonetheless, I am most gratified to see you here.” Helena lowered her voice. “It’s a most influential gathering.”

“Helena.” Evelyn cast a pointed glance at the gentleman standing patiently a step behind the older woman.

“Oh dear, where are my manners?” Helena sighed. “The bane of growing older, I suppose.” She turned to the victim. “May I present my son and daughter-in-law, Lord and Lady Waterston. And this”—a flourish sounded in Helena’s voice—“is my niece, Lady Redwell. Portia, this is Mr. Sayers.”

“Ah, yes.” Mr. Sayers took Portia’s hand and raised it to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. It was as polished as it was flattering. Amusement quirked his lips. “The widow.”

Portia smiled weakly. “I see my aunt has been talking to you.”

“Oh my, yes.” Satisfaction rang in Helena’s voice. “It seems I went to school with Mr. Sayers’s mother. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to remember her, but then it was a very long time ago. Once again, you have my apologies, Mr. Sayers.”

“None are necessary, Lady Waterston,” he said smoothly. “As you said, it was a very long time ago.”

“Still, it is impolite and most annoying.” Helena sighed. “My memory is not what it used to be. Yet another distressing result of the passing years.”

“Better than the alternative,” Adrian murmured.

Helena cast her son a disparaging look.

“Lady Redwell.” Mr. Sayers turned to Portia. “I would be most grateful if you would do me the honor of joining me in a dance.”

“What an excellent idea.” A satisfied twinkle sparked in Helena’s eyes. “You have scarcely danced all evening.”

Adrian coughed.

Portia hesitated, then smiled. “I would be delighted.”

Mr. Sayers nodded to the others and escorted Portia to the floor.

“You really should stop doing that to her, Mother,” Adrian said mildly, his gaze following his cousin and Mr. Sayers.

“She’ll thank me for it one day.” Helena studied the couple with satisfaction. “Don’t you agree, Evelyn?”

Evelyn truly liked her mother-in-law. In many ways, she was the only mother Evelyn had ever really known. While she was confident Helena returned her affection, it did seem wise to agree with her on minor matters. She bit her lip. “One day perhaps.”

Helena glanced at her. “But not today?”

Evelyn shook her head. “Definitely not today.”

“I wouldn’t wager on tomorrow either,” Adrian added. “You really don’t remember his mother?”

Helena sighed. “Not at all. I was tempted to lie to him and tell him ‘Of course, I remember your mother! Darling girl. And quite clever as well.’ But that would have been dishonest as not even his name sounds familiar.” She paused. “Well, perhaps it does, but it’s not an uncommon name. Besides, her name wouldn’t have been Sayers then anyway.” She sighed again, this time much more dramatically, and directed her gaze toward Evelyn. “I am unfailingly honest, you know.”

Adrian choked.

Evelyn had witnessed any number of occasions when her mother-in-law had, at the very least, bent the truth. She raised a brow. “Unfailingly?”

“Yes.” Helena nodded. “When I am honest, I am unfailingly so.”

Evelyn exchanged glances with her husband.

“You are both lucky that you are my favorites.” Helena huffed. “Now, as I was saying, I can’t remember his mother at all and I’m very good at that sort of thing. Admittedly, I can never seem to find where I last put my gloves, but forty years ago is quite clear. Or it always has been.”

She turned her attention back to the dancers. “I’m not nearly as indiscriminate as Portia might lead you to believe, you know. I have a list of very nearly all the eligible gentlemen in London. It is only coincidence that several of them are here this evening.” She fluttered her fan in front of her face. “Admittedly, I am not one to let a turn of luck go to waste.”

“How fortunate for Portia.” Adrian smiled.

“Indeed it is,” Helena said firmly. “Unfortunately, I fear she cannot see past the fact that I am the one bringing them to her attention or her to theirs. Why, the first gentleman I introduced her to was not unattractive and charming as well. And Portia quite likes children. And the second, while admittedly a bit short, is known to be most kind and amusing and has a significant fortune.”

“I am certain Portia appreciates your efforts,” Evelyn said.

“You are a dear girl but it’s obvious Portia does nothing of the kind.” She squared her shoulders. “No matter. She will indeed thank me one day.” Helena met Evelyn’s gaze and chuckled. “But not today.”

Evelyn laughed.

“Now then.” Helena glanced around the ballroom. “I see that charming Lord Compton is alone over there. I should say good evening to him.”

“Don’t you think he’s a little too old for Portia?” Adrian asked.

“My goodness, yes. He is entirely too old. For Portia.” She flashed them her son’s wicked smile. “Adrian. Evelyn.” She nodded and took her leave.

“You have a unique and interesting family.” Evelyn’s gaze followed Helena making her way across the room.

“It’s frightening, isn’t it?” he murmured.

She smiled wryly. “It’s rarely dull.”

“One never knows what to expect next.”

“I beg your pardon, Lord Waterston?” a voice said behind them.

Adrian turned and nodded. “Good evening, Lord Huntly.”

“Lady Waterston.” The younger man nodded toward her, then directed his attention back to Adrian. “A few of us are discussing the Irish question, and we were wondering as to your opinion on the latest developments.”

“Now?” Adrian shook his head. “I don’t know that this is either the time or the place.”

“And yet,” Evelyn said, “I could swear I have heard you say on more than one occasion that some of the best discussions of political issues occur at social events rather than the hallowed halls of Westminster.”

“A word of advice to you, Lord Huntly.” Adrian directed his words to the peer but his gaze remained on his wife. “Never marry a woman with a good memory. Failing that, watch carefully what you say to her.”

Lord Huntly chuckled. “I shall remember, sir.”

“Very well then.” Adrian met his wife’s gaze. “As this is at your urging, I assume you do not mind my abandoning you.” A wicked light of an entirely different sort flashed in his eyes. “Unless, as you have never been reticent to share your opinions, you should like to join us.”

“As enticing as you make it sound, and as much as I do enjoy a rousing debate, I believe I shall leave you gentlemen to your own devices. Besides ...” She glanced around the room. “There are any number of people here I should like to speak with. Why, there’s Lady Cavert and Mrs. Wellbourne. And your cousin may yet need my assistance.” She smiled in a wicked manner of her own. “As may Lord Compton.”

“Are you sure?” Adrian studied her.

“Well, he is probably capable of taking care of himself. . .” She laughed. “Of course I am. Now go.” She cast him a reassuring smile. “You may rejoin me later.”

“I shall count the minutes.” Adrian turned to Lord Huntly. “Apparently, I am at your disposal.”

“Excellent, sir.” Lord Huntly beamed at Evelyn. “You have my gratitude, Lady Waterston.”

She waved off his comment. “Not at all.”

“We are gathered in the card room, my lord.” Lord Huntly started off. Adrian cast her a resigned look and followed after the younger man. “I cannot tell you how appreciative I, well, all of ...”

If she were a more suspicious sort, she would think Lord Huntly’s arrival was entirely too convenient. But as much as she knew better than to trust Max completely, she was fairly certain she was on her own this evening. Still, someone somewhere was obviously watching over her. Adrian would be occupied for a good quarter of an hour if not longer. Perhaps there was an ancient druid god that protected women who did not wish to lie to their husbands. As she hadn’t. There were people here she did indeed wish to speak to.

Evelyn circled the room, stopping to chat briefly with an acquaintance here or listen to the latest gossip there. By the time she reached the ballroom’s grand entry, she had learned the ladies’ receiving room was in the same wing as the library. And that Lord Dunwell did indeed have a collection of antique swords displayed on his library wall. Swords? She scoffed silently. Men were certainly transparent creatures.

Evelyn headed in the direction of the ladies’ receiving room and the library beyond. All was going entirely too smoothly thus far, but she knew better than to be too confident. Too much confidence inevitably led to carelessness. Still, she sent a silent prayer of thanks toward ancient druid gods or anyone else who might be listening.

And couldn’t help wonder if a naked dance of gratitude under the stars might be a small enough price to pay for success.