Читать книгу My Wicked Little Lies - Victoria Alexander - Страница 14

Chapter 6

What was she up to?

Adrian narrowed his eyes and watched his wife leave the ballroom. He’d finished his discussion sooner than he’d expected and obviously sooner than Evie had planned as well. She appeared unhurried, calm, even serene. To an unsuspecting observer, it would look as though Evie were simply off to view the rare orchids Lord Dunwell had in his conservatory. Or perhaps she was curious about the new portrait of Lady Dunwell painted by Mr. Sargent hanging in the gallery. Adrian had been thinking about having his wife’s portrait painted, and he did like the American’s work, even if some of it was scandalous.

Or she could be off to an assignation with a lover.

Ridiculous, of course. Why, no more than a half an hour ago, Adrian was convinced he was making a great deal out of nothing. Yes, she had not been herself in recent days. But while it was not unheard of for long winters to create a certain amount of melancholy, that answer didn’t seem right. Not for her. He wasn’t sure why but he knew it. He had realized in recent days, much to his surprise, that the only part of his life in which he was not completely confident was in regards to his wife. He did trust her. Still ...

His jaw tightened and he started around the perimeter of the room. He was being a fool and he well knew it. But he was also aware he had become, well, boring in the past two years. He’d thought he was a bit staid even when they’d married. But Richard had just died and Adrian was abruptly faced with unplanned responsibilities and the realization one had to take life more seriously when one’s duties changed. Now dull seemed more accurate than staid. He couldn’t blame Evie for wanting a bit of adventure. She’d lived a most adventurous life before their marriage. And he’d already acknowledged a certain restlessness in himself. Not that his eye had turned in search of amorous adventures. Evie was the only one he wanted now or ever.

Not, he reminded himself, that she wanted someone else. She’d done nothing and he was little more than a jealous idiot. That, too, had surprised him. Nonetheless only a fool would fail to make absolutely certain his suspicions—absurd though they may be—were wrong.

He made his way toward the door. After all, he, too, would like to see the new portrait. His progress was continually impeded by one person or another wishing to have a word with him, and his impatience grew. When one was faced with unfounded suspicions, one was eager to prove oneself wrong. At last he reached the entry. Across a wide foyer, steps led down to the ground floor. Corridors flanked either side of the ballroom doors. He paused and considered the options.

“May I be of some assistance, my lord?” A footman stepped up to him. Dunwell’s servants were exceptionally well trained.

“Yes, thank you.” The most successful fabrications tended to be those closest to the truth. “I seem to have misplaced my wife. I believe she went to look at Lady Dunwell’s portrait.”

“The gallery is down the corridor to the right, my lord. The family’s private quarters are to the left,” the servant said. “All else including the gallery, the ladies’ receiving room, the conservatory, the billiards room, Lord Dunwell’s library, and assorted drawing rooms are to the right.”

Adrian nodded his thanks and started down the hall.

No, he could understand his wife’s succumbing to the lure of adventure, the temptation of the unknown. He could understand a certain restlessness after two years of proper living. Indeed, he was feeling much the same himself.

What he wouldn’t do was allow it.

Evelyn studied Lord Dunwell’s desk with a practiced eye. It was obviously expensive and beautifully aged if one liked fine wood insulted by an abundance of decorative bronze garlands and flourishes as well as corner fittings depicting some sort of mythical sea creature. A sea dragon perhaps. Carved wooden waves reached up from the legs to meet the beast. Evelyn wasn’t sure if it was the most amazing work of craftsmanship she had ever seen or simply the ugliest. Nonetheless, it would have been most mesmerizing and fascinating to study had she not had more pressing concerns.

Four drawers on either side flanked a center drawer over the kneehole. Often desks of this nature had one lock on the top drawer of each column of drawers that locked all the drawers beneath it at the same time. Unfortunately, each of the nine drawers on this desk had its own separate keyhole. Lord Dunwell was certainly a cautious man or a man with a great deal to hide.

She felt among the pins in her hair for the thin, flexible pick Celeste had given her. Amazing that something very nearly indistinguishable from a hairpin could be used to easily open locks. Evelyn had once had a similar tool of her own but had tossed it away with the rest of her past. Or so she’d thought. Amazing as well that a man who had a lock on every drawer wouldn’t go to some effort to make them a bit more complicated. She snorted with disdain. Unless she was sorely mistaken, this would be fairly easy.

It was logical to assume that the file, if indeed it was here, would not be in the center drawer or the top two on either side as they were not as deep as the others. Still, one never knew. She knelt before the desk, inserted the pick into the center drawer keyhole, and maneuvered it until it caught on the mechanism. One careful turn and the lock clicked. She opened the drawer and quickly looked at the contents.

Dunwell was surprisingly tidy and there was nothing here save neatly arranged pen nibs, a sharpening knife, an ivory page cutter, and his lordship’s crested stationery. She’d thought, on occasions similar to this in the past, that one could learn a great deal about a man from looking in his private spaces. Dunwell was organized, precise. Anything he undertook would be well thought out. This was not the drawer of a man of impulse.

Regardless of the nobility of the purpose, there was something unseemly about perusing a man’s private belongings. One never knew what sorts of things a man might wish to keep locked away from prying eyes. Why, even Adrian kept his desk drawers locked although she was certain he would show her their contents should she ever ask. Not that she cared to. Adrian had nothing to hide. Her husband was very much an open book.

She made certain everything was exactly as she had found it, closed the drawer, locked it, then started on the drawers to the right. Given that Dunwell favored his right hand, he might well be inclined to store papers of importance on that side. But by the time she reached the bottom drawer, she had not found the file nor had she seen anything out of the ordinary whatsoever. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but Lord Dunwell was apparently far duller than she had imagined.

She grit her teeth with annoyance. There were still four drawers left but an instinct she thought was long dead told her this was a waste of time. She quickly worked her way through the remaining drawers. Nothing. Either the file was hidden elsewhere in the house or Max’s information was wrong. Not that he had seemed overly confident about it in the first place. She closed the last drawer and relocked it. Still, the fact that he had sent her on this wild-goose chase at all with what was obviously the flimsiest of information spoke to his level of concern about the situation. She would send word to him at once. There was no more she could do here tonight.

The library door opened and she froze. Certainly, she was concealed from sight behind the desk for the moment, but it would take this intruder no more than a few steps into the room to discover her.

“What are you doing here?”

Her heart sank. She would know her husband’s voice anywhere. She drew a deep breath and started to rise.

“Why, I followed you, of course.”

Again, Evelyn froze. Who in the name of all that’s holy was that? Quietly she shifted to allow her to peer around the edge of the desk. She bit back a gasp.

Adrian studied Lady Dunwell coolly. “And why would you do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She smiled in a seductive manner and stepped closer to him. Evelyn’s jaw clenched. “It’s been a very long time since we have had a moment alone together.”

“Has it?” Adrian shrugged. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Bravo, Adrian! Excellent!

“Come now, Adrian, surely you haven’t forgotten.” Lady Dunwell reached a long, pointed finger and lightly ran it down the front of Adrian’s shirt. Evelyn clapped her fist over her mouth to prevent a scream of indignation. The hussy!

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” he said smoothly. “But as I recall, there was little to remember.”

“Adrian!” Lady Dunwell pouted. “You wound me to the quick. I quite value the times we spent together. I have always thought it a great pity there weren’t more.” She heaved a heartfelt sigh. “There could have been so much more. I was a lonely widow and you were dashing and handsome ...” She cast him a look of pure invitation. “You still are.”

Good Lord!

“How kind of you to say.”

Rubbish. It wasn’t the least bit kind. The woman is after you, dear husband.

“Surely you remember? I can be exceptionally kind.”

What is there to remember? And how kind was she? Kind was not at all what she had in mind now.

“No doubt your husband thinks so.”

Excellent, Adrian. Remind her that she has a husband.

“Goodness, Adrian, Lionel married me for my fortune and my family connections. I know that and he knows I know it. As for the rest of marriage, well ...” She shrugged. “My husband and I, oh, we pursue our own interests, shall we say.”

“How very ... modern of you both.”

Modern? That was not the word Evelyn would use.

“But I fear I am somewhat more traditional,” he continued. “I much prefer that my wife and I pursue mutual interests.”

“For now.” She smiled in a wicked manner.

It was all Evelyn could do to keep from revealing herself, vaulting over the desk, and strangling the woman with her bare hands.

“For always,” he said firmly.

Evelyn’s heart fluttered. Her husband was as perfect a man as one could hope to find.

“Although, perhaps ...” Lady Dunwell studied him for a moment.

He raised a brow. “Perhaps what?”

“Perhaps I am already too late. Perhaps you are here awaiting an interest of your own.”

Indignation washed through Evelyn. Not Adrian. Still, what was he doing here?

He laughed.

And why wasn’t he denying it?

“I see.” Lady Dunwell cast him a slow, provocative smile. “Then there is hope for me yet. I shall leave you to your interests.” She moved to the door, then glanced at him over her shoulder. “For now.” She took her leave, shutting the door behind her.

“Now, back to my original question.” Adrian looked directly at Evie, and she resisted the urge to shrink back behind the desk and pretend she wasn’t there. “What are you doing here?”

“I might ask you the same thing.” She rose to her feet in as dignified a manner as she could manage. Wasn’t it said that attack was the best form of defense?

His eyes narrowed. “I was looking for you.”

“And just happened to find Lady Dunwell in the process?” she asked in a lofty manner.

“She found me.”

“So it would appear. Appearances, however ...” She shrugged.

He glared. “There is nothing between Lady Dunwell and myself.”

“You led me to believe there had never been anything between you and that creature in the past save a futile attempt on her part to ensnare you in marriage.”

“There wasn’t,” he said sharply, then paused. “Not really. Nothing of any significance anyway. Not on my part.”

“And yet you never said a word.”

“Why on earth would any man in his right mind confess his previous indiscretions to his wife?”

“Ah-hah!” She aimed a pointed figure at him. “Then you did lie to me!”

“I most certainly did not,” he said staunchly. “It was at worst a ... a lie of omission.”

“Oh?” She stared at him for a long moment. “And as such does not count as a true lie? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes.” He nodded firmly.

“I see.” She swept past him, reached the door, then turned back. “As it was a lie of omission, I can certainly overlook it.”

“How very gracious of you.” Sarcasm rang in his voice.

“I think so. But I do not trust that woman for so much as a single second. She has no sense of decent behavior.”

“But do you trust me?”

“Implicitly.”

“As well you should.” He paused. “And you haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

“Why, I came to look at Lord Dunwell’s collection.” She nodded at the wall display of ancient swords. It wasn’t a complete lie. She had glanced at the swords. “It’s most impressive.”

He studied her suspiciously. “I didn’t know you were interested in swords.”

“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.