Page 29 of The Viscount's Seduction
No different than before, but how had he not noticed it? “Will it be poisoned, Jocelyn?”
“No, my dear. It is well past time for you to marry. I was a young bride once, and I would not play the distraction for a young woman’s husband.”
Servants brought tea and closed the door on the way out.
“Youaregoing to marry?” She finished pouring and met his eyes.
“Shaldon wishes it so.”
A grimace. “And whatever Shaldon wishes he gets.”
“Lord of the realm.” He popped a biscuit into his mouth.
She settled back like a cat, kicked off her shoes and curled her feet under her. “I know what you’re up to.”
“Really?” He sipped some tea. Denholm’s wife must have set the rumor mill turning.
She nodded. Her eyes slitted and her lips curved up. “And I approve. We had quite a chat last night.”
“Indeed.” Well, Denholm did say his daughter was broad-minded.
“Pity you won’t be able to tell me about Shaldon’s reaction to the news. But perhaps she will relate it to me eventually. I believe she and I will be fast friends.”
The hair on his neck rose. He leaned back and stretched out his legs. She meant Lady Sirena. And if she thought his wife would be friends with a courtesan, even an aristocratic one...
But Jocelyn’s reputation was not such a wild one. She’d been faithful to her husband, as far as anyone knew. In fact, she’d waited two years after the man’s death to take Bakeley as a lover. Though there were men who whispered of their conquest of her, they were all well-known liars, the sort who claimed imaginary trysts, not worth the aggravation of a duel to defend his mistress’s honor, if he were so inclined. Which he wasn’t.
He opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it. There was no sense attempting to argue her out of the idea “Why?”
“I like her. And, your little fiefdom does not need another infusion of cash.” She shrugged. “And really, Bakeley, she needs you.”
A scratch at the door brought the butler announcing another caller.
He got to his feet. “What do you know about her?”
She bit her lip and looked away. “Only what I’ve said. Though, I suspect, she guards her cards. To truly win her may require all your arts of seduction.” Rising, she kissed his cheek. “You may count me as an ally, my friend.”
The walkto Lady Sirena’s lodgings gave Bakeley a chance to think. Why did Jocelyn care about Lady Sirena? Years before, Jocelyn had famously swept the elderly Arbrough off his feet, but she had not been an impoverished orphan adrift. She’d come from Welsh gentry, she’d said, and he’d heard she’d brought a respectable dowry.
And how had she known of his interest in Lady Sirena? Well, that was obvious. He and Sirena had been absent at the same time. If Jocelyn had noticed, so had at least some of those at the musicale last night. Pelham hadn’t, because his brain had been filled with the vision of Jocelyn’s breasts.
Shaldon would have noticed, yet he’d said nothing about it at breakfast.
She is off limits, Shaldon had said.You have dodged for the last time. You will marry.
Uneasiness crept through him. He should have brought that intemperate horse for a brisk ride instead of taking a brisk walk, something to settle his mind.
Shaldon’s opposition to Lady Sirena. Jocelyn’s support of the girl. Rumors and obsession. All because of a few stolen kisses, which reminded him how well his hand had fit upon her bottom, and how smooth her skin was at her shoulders.
Perhaps he should point himself toward Shaldon House, or better yet, the bachelor lodgings he hadn’t visited in months. A bottle of brandy and some time to brood in peace might soothe him.
He turned a corner and found himself on the same street where he’d met Lady Sirena, mere doors from her rooms.
Yes, well, he hadn’t promised to do more than call on her, and that he would do.
The doorof Lady Sirena’s lodgings opened before he could knock. The thin woman who answered was not the same maid who’d admitted them the day he’d visited with Perry. She was older, perhaps Lady Jane’s age, and plainly clad like an upper floor servant.
“Oh, sir, thank you for coming. Lady Jane is aflutter.” She ushered him into a sitting room. “Lord Hackwell has arrived, my lady.”
Lady Jane’s mouth dropped. “Oh, Barton, this is not Hackwell. This is Bakeley.”
“I do beg your pardon.” The servant called Barton, a lady’s maid, he’d guess, settled a shawl on Lady Jane’s shoulders.
“I did not know what to do,” Lady Jane said. “Cheswick is still in the country. I sent for Hackwell.”
His heart quickened. “Where is Lady Sirena?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. She went out this morning as usual and she hasn’t come back.”
