Page 125 of Ironvine

“You encouraged me to go to the sculpture gallery, and then you brought everyone there on purpose.”

“The Duke and his friends came on their own.”

“Liar! Why would you do this? Is this some sort of revenge?”

“I did no such thing,” he lied. In truth, having her so rudely exposed was a delightful by-product of his basic scheme to expose Matthew to his Aunt and Alice. If she felt the stinging pinch of his watch-out-because-I-bite warning, that was an added bonus.

“You wanted to seduce and be seduced last night, did you not?” he said. “If you were careless, that is because of your passions or the wine, or your sudden liberation, certainly not because of me.”

“I hate you,” her voice simmered.

“You were a great success, it seems. The Duke and his friends all know who you are and are hardly likely to forget you.”

“Yes, that is a triumph indeed.” The ironic tone in her voice was like water fizzing and hissing on burning iron.

“Now that he knows who you are and what you are capable of, perhaps you could try to gain the Duke’s favours. He must have broken with his most recent mistress for she was nowhere to be seen in town this season. Think of the high life you would lead at his side.”

Charles would certainly have fun watching her try to seduce the Duke.

Amanda lunged at him, but her fingers only stuck in his chemise, pulling it loose. “How dare you mock me!”

Gripping her shoulders, he took in a breath to steady his temper. “I know you were unhappy in your marriage for a very long time, but now you are free of William. You must only be patient until your mourning period is over, then flirt and seduce and be seduced all you like. Take all the lovers you want, find another husband—”

“I don’t want another husband!” She shoved at him. “And I cannot afford to be patient. It seems my husband had altered his will and has left me nothing, nothing except for my small allowance. Whatever William had, he left in trust for our son.”

“Did he?”

“I have no home of my own, no income to speak of. All I have to commend myself are my charms and my beauty, which is creasing and fading, but I do not want to crease or fade. I do not want to. I can’t.” Her lower lip trembled, her troubled gaze darting here and there.

“You have your brother.”

“My brother is determined that Matthew marry me to save my reputation.”

“Andrew is protecting you. A fine solution.”

“Only I’ve just learnt that Matthew has no money! If I had known that little fact last night I would not have allowed him to flirt with me, let alone touch me.” She tilted her head, her mouth firm. “But you knew, didn’t you? You knew he was looking for a rich girl, which is why he’s had his eye on your Miss Alice. You knew and you encouraged me to—”

Charles raised a hand between them. “You have never needed anyone’s approval or encouragement. You get fixated on an idea, and in the end, you always do what you want. You enjoy being praised and admired for your cleverness, which is what you always required of me.”

“Damn you!” Her fists bunched in her dress. “I cannot marry Matthew. He’s a boy. A disaster. He will demand a king’s ransom from my brother for doing us the great favour of marrying me. I will not do that to Andrew. I will not.”

“You’re stuck then, aren’t you?”

Her jaw tightened. “You must help me.”

“Why should I? You’re the reason my brother is dead, and now you’ve assaulted my wife in our own home.”

She let out a groan like an impatient ten-year-old child. What he’d said was tedious.

Charles put his hands at his waist. “No words of humility or regret, Mrs. Treharne? Look at you, a husband and a lover dead after fighting over fucking you. What a triumph you are for all womankind.”

“Shut up,” her voice seethed, her hands went to her temple.

“You must apologise to my wife for your offence.”

“I will not. And certainly not in front of that woman!”

“That woman is the Duchess of Oakley, and you must tread carefully.”

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