Page 32 of The Devil and the Heiress
He nodded in agreement. “He was most definitely a villain.”
“I rarely agree with Society’s opinions.”
“I am shocked.” He teased her.
She laughed.
“I gathered as much in your dash from London. Have you always been rebellious?”
“Not really. Quietly rebellious, perhaps. I prefer thingsto be calm and orderly, but not at the expense of what’s right.”
He grinned at that, wondering how many rebellious thoughts she harbored. At least he knew a few because of her precious Lord Lucifer. The burn of guilt faded into the ache of jealousy. Finished with his sparse meal, he pushed his plate away and held his tankard with both hands, reluctant to depart for the evening.
“How did you learn about your father’s other family?”
Surprisingly, he did not find anything abhorrent about telling her. He had never spoken to anyone about his past so freely. “Ware helped.”
“Lord Ware?” Her eyes widened.
“Yes. We both were attending Eton, and someone was spreading rumors, very true rumors actually, about the condition of my newly inherited estate. I tracked them back to Ware, and when confronted, he told me about Jacob, Maura, and Lilian.”
“What did you do to Lord Ware?” There was the unmistakable gleam of bloodlust in her eyes.
“I beat him soundly, of course.” More seriously, he added, “I didn’t want to believe it, but there was hardly any reason not to. When I confronted my father’s man of business, he admitted that it was true.”
“Perhaps your father should have been outcast instead of your mother. He had an entire other family.”
Christian could not argue with her logic. “But then the rules are different for women than they are for men. He kept his seat in Parliament and was invited to all the important events of the season. My mother would have been a laughingstock and relegated to only the lesser events, and only if she seemed suitably contrite.”
She harrumphed and set her tankard down. “Sometimes I wonder why bother with the lot of them.”
Despite the subject, he found himself smiling at herirritation. “Would you prefer to leave? Tour the Continent, sail around the world?”
“Neither of those are terrible suggestions,” she said, relaxing her shoulders. “Especially if I can write.”
And have someone make love to you at night, he added silently. Perhaps his quiet Miss Crenshaw was strong enough to not be bothered by the inevitable scandal of their marriage. She might even thrive because of it.
“Tell me more about Montague?” she asked, changing the subject. Her thirst for information about him was heady. He found he wanted to tell her everything.
“What do you wish to know? Jacob runs it with me, and a few years back the duke bought in.”
Sipping her own ale, she smiled at him in a way that let him know she thought herself being very naughty. Anticipation rippled like sparks across his skin. “I have heard that all manner of deviousness takes place there.”
He could not have this conversation with her. Not now. Not when they were all alone with a bed conveniently nearby. Shifting in his seat to find a more comfortable position, he said, “All stories are true, though perhaps slightly exaggerated.”
“What about the room?”
There was no need to ask which one she meant. Tales of a special bedchamber at the club had been greatly embellished.
Dropping her voice even though they were alone and no one was likely to be listening, she asked, “The bedchamber?”
“What have you heard?” What would an innocent debutante be told about such a subject?
She shrugged a shoulder and dropped her gaze as if suddenly too shy to meet his. “Only that couples go in there to indulge in all manner of immoral and decadent behaviors.”
Sometimes there were performances. Other times couples chose to go there alone or with a few companions. Butthere were accoutrements available for their pleasure. She glanced up at his silence, the interest clear in her eyes. They were dilated, and her lips parted as if to catch her breath. She would want to go, and he would take her there. He closed his eyes as he imagined using the silk cords to tie her hands to the bed. The way she would tremble with need.
“Yes, that much is true.”
