Page 2 of To Tempt a Scandalous Lord
Her Grace arched a sharp gray brow as she slid into her seat. “Both.”
The duchess proved to be a diverting dinner companion, and her barbed tongue and clever observations made the time pass quickly. A glass of wine and a delicious meal helped as well, but they would not excuse him forever from making conversation. He should be interacting with the guest on his other side, but aside from a few polite comments and observations, his attention kept returning to Her Grace of Claremore.
If only the men in attendance possessed a quarter of the duchess’s wit.
“I know what you’re thinking, Inverray.” The older woman peered at him through her lorgnette,tsking under her breath. “You think me superior company, even as you struggle to be on your best behavior.”
“Sometimes it’s so very hard to be good, don’t you think?”
The duchess snorted. “Well, do not be good on my behalf. I watched you earlier. You barely had a chance to draw breath. I wouldn’t have blamed you…too much…if you threw your hands up and escaped into the gardens.”
“I’d never be Prime Minister if I did.”
“Probably not.” She sighed. “But then perhaps it’s just a glorified position anyway.”
He did not attempt to contain his grin. “I’m honored you would trust me enough to utter something so salacious.”
“Inverray, really.” The Duchess of Claremore skewered him with a glare. “Do try to control your expression. I do not need the women in attendance directing their ire on me because you decided to gift me with your charm.”
“My charm?” He blinked as his gaze swept over the women preparing to depart to the drawing room. “I don’t understand. Why exactly would they look on you with disdain?”
“And here I was under the impression you were an intelligent man,” she grumbled. “I have spent the dinnertime hours chatting with the only handsome, eligible bachelor at this gathering, and now you act as if you’re unaware of your allure. The other women want to tear me to pieces.”
Niall chuckled, raising the old woman’s gloved hand to his lips, pressing a discreet kiss to her knuckles. “As if they would be brave enough to cross you.”
“You make me sound as if I’m frightening.” The duchess pressed a hand to her chest in offense. The twinkle in her blue eyes told him she was anything but.
“But aren’t you,” he drawled, stepping away to join the men, and just in time to avoid the swipe of her fan.
Chuckling to himself, Niall entered the study, where his laugh promptly died on his lips.
His friend Finlay, Lord Firthwell, stood in the corner of the room in conversation with Niall’s old mentor, Viscount Matthews. Firthwell’s brows were drawn low over his eyes and his mouth was pinched as he listened to something the older man was saying. When he looked toward the doorway and met Niall’s eyes, his expression was grim.
Firthwell was never grim. He was optimistic and prone to easy laughter.
Niall’s stomach turned.
Viscount Matthews did not offer any greeting when Niall joined them near the bookshelf. “There’s been another.”
There was no need for clarification as to what the viscount meant, for the damn tracts had been plaguing Niall since he’d announced his intention to stand for Prime Minister.
“I assumed. No less than five different people have mentioned them to me with compliments on how well I’ve handled the criticism, as if they expected me to pull out a claymore and start hacking away at the furniture.”
“I’d imagine that would be quite cathartic,” Firthwell said, a laugh in his voice.
“How bad is it?” he asked, accepting a glass of port from a footman’s tray. He tipped it back, swallowing the entire glass in one mouthful.
Firthwell sighed. “Critical.”
He rolled his eyes. “They’ve all beencritical.”
Coughing into his hand, Firthwell nodded. “Yes, well, this issue was particularly pointed.”
“Give it to me,” he snarled.
Without a word, Viscount Matthews extracted a slip of paper from his pocket and slapped it into Niall’s hand. Darting his gaze around the room for curious eyes, Niall quickly read the front section of the political tract.
The headline read,Demand Inverray Do More!
