Page 35 of Duke of Wickedness
“I was beginning to think you had abandoned me, my lady,” he teased.
She sniffed at him, but she allowed him to offer her a hand up to the conveyance. He was wearing gloves this time, thank the Lord.
“Not all of us can merely waltz out our own front doors without an explanation before we go somewhere,” she told him pertly as she arranged her skirts on the soft, cushioned bench. “I had to deploy my skills at stealth.”
“Oh dear.” Hetsked, sounding more amused than sympathetic. “Nearly caught by the staff?”
She sighed. “I wish. No, I thought I was hiding from the butler, but I was actually hiding from the housekeeper’s favorite mouser.”
When he laughed, it didn’t feel as though he was mocking her. Maybe that was why she’d let honesty slip out so easily.
“Well,” he reasoned, “the house cat earns his keep on stealth. He’s a worthy adversary in this quest.”
She rolled her eyes. “You areridiculous,” she chided.
“It’s been said,” he allowed.
They lapsed into a brief silence that, to Ariadne’s dismay, was not uncomfortable in the least. Instead, it was fartoocomfortable, and it reminded her that she had, once again, let her guard down around this man.
She cleared her throat and straightened her spine.
The duke watched all of this with a great deal of interest.
“Where are we going, then?” she asked when she felt that she had regained at least some of her poise.
“You do realize that you don’t need to do that,” he said in lieu of answering her—because he was an irksome, irksome man.
“Do what?”
“And you’re averybad liar. You should know that, too.”
She grasped frantically for the final shreds of her composure.
“I do know that, thank you.”
She must have gone a bittoofar on the pertness scale, for the duke burst into unrestrained laughter.
“Lady Ariadne Lightholder,” he said. “You are a delight.”
Ariadne wasn’t entirely certain how to take that, to tell the truth.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or not?” she demanded.
With great deliberation, the duke uncrossed his legs, then recrossed them in the other direction. The movement made his legs brush against her skirts, not enough to be real contact, but enough to tease.
“You know, I don’t think I will,” the duke said while Ariadne struggled not to react to any of this. “I feel that you lacksufficient surprises in your life. I will rectify this. Feel free to thank me any time.”
He looked very happy with himself when she made a furious growling sound in the back of her throat.
The coach ride went on longer than Ariadne had anticipated; they crossed through Mayfair, then beyond the boundaries of Bloomsbury. The buildings got a touch less well-maintained, and the crowds in the streets grew a little more boisterous.
They stopped in front of a cluster of such noisy revelers. The crowd waited in front of a building that was unmarked, except for an old, faded sign painted into the wood paneling that had been done up so long ago that Ariadne could only make out the letter B before the rest faded into nothingness.
“What is this?” Ariadne asked, voice more awe than annoyance. The people here looked happy, downright giddy, and their clothing had the air of being their very best, even if it was a bit shabby at the edges here and there.
The duke’s eyes gleamed with mischief in the dim light of the carriage.
“My lady,” he said drolly. “Have you never had a proper night out at the theater?”
