Lady Gone Wicked (Wicked Secrets)(38)

“He can’t dance only with me. You know that.” Adelaide hesitated. “And I…I expect to be settled soon. Montrose claimed my first dance tonight and was good enough to inform me that he must leave London tomorrow to see to his estate, but that upon his return he would request a private meeting with Father.”

“Oh.” Alice tilted her head. “And you encouraged him in this?”

“I did.”

“I’m glad.” Her sister again reached for her hands. “Still, it is not guaranteed. What if he is thrown from his horse or struck by lightning? Then where would you be?”

Adelaide laughed. “In a better place than he, no doubt.”

“I am serious, Adelaide!” Alice tugged on her hands with each word. “You must marry, and until that happy event, Nicholas must not. He must be at your disposal, should the need arise.”

Adelaide pulled free of her sister’s grasp. Lord, how she hated that phrase. “Yes, so he informed me himself. But even if Montrose is blasted by a hundred bolts of lightning, I will not marry Nick. Not ever.”

“Naturally you feel that way, odious man that he is. But it could be in name only. Take the name, discard the man, and live happily ever after,” Alice said, ever practical. “You can stay with me. I would love that.”

“But I wouldn’t,” Adelaide said gently. “I want a family of my own. My own husband, my own sons and daughters. If I marry Nick, it would be in name only, as you said, and I’ll have none of that.”

Alice sighed. “Then I shall pray Montrose keeps himself safe. But I cannot tolerate the thought of Nicholas having an easy life while you struggle. For my own peace of mind, he shall remain an available option, even if he is a most disagreeable one.”

“For my peace of mind, I should like him to be the opposite. The more unavailable he is, the better I shall feel.”

Alice met her gaze. “Why?” she asked bluntly.

Adelaide shook her head. “I cannot say.” Or rather, she could, but Alice would not like it. She stepped away from her sister, deeper into the shadows. There, she found she could say the words, after all. “He tempts me, Alice. He makes me want.”

Alice gave a light gasp and pressed her gloved knuckles to her mouth, and Adelaide thought perhaps she had said too much.

Her sister followed her into the dark. “Did he—has he sought a continuation of your former relationship?” Her voice trembled with fury, and her shoulders bunched up around her ears.

“No.”

Alice’s shoulders relaxed in relief. “Thank God.”

“It was I who kissed him.”

There went the shoulders again. Adelaide winced.

“Adelaide,” Alice said slowly. “Do you want to marry the man, or not? If you want him, you shall have him.” Her tone held a determined edge, and her eyes glittered fiercely.

If you want him, you shall have him.

Had Herod Antipas said those words when Salome demanded the head of John the Baptist?

Adelaide shivered in the chilled night air. No, she would not want such an offering. “What I want from him cannot be taken by force, not even by you, my dearest sister.” Adelaide rapped her shoulder affectionately with her fan.

“And what would that be?” Alice asked warily.

“Love. In the face of everything. Not love in spite of my flaws, or because of my virtues. A love that is all encompassing, every part of him and every part of me matched together. That’s what I want.”

“Oh, darling.” Her sister sighed and wrapped her up tight in her arms. She said no more.

She didn’t have to.

They both knew it was the one thing she could never have.

For it was the one thing Nick could never give.





Chapter Twenty-Eight


When Nick received an invitation in his mother’s hand, requesting his presence at a picnic in Richmond, his first instinct had been to toss the card in the trash where it belonged.

But he hesitated. Perhaps Adelaide had received an invitation, as well.

It had been just over a week since their visit to Epsom, and in that time he had spoken no more than a half dozen politely bland words to her—which was exactly the opposite of what he wanted. What he wanted was to hold her in his arms and say all the right words—the words she most longed to hear, the words that would fix everything.

But that was impossible, since he had no idea what those words might be.

Which was exactly why she belonged with Montrose, not Nick. His chest squeezed at the thought, but he welcomed the pain. This was his penance.

At the appointed hour, he found himself standing in the street outside Wintham House, Adelaide’s darling hand in his as he helped her into his carriage. She was wearing a pretty dress of pale yellow, with a purple satin ribbon tied into a bow beneath her breasts, as though to make a present of them. Her sweet, lilac scent teased his nostrils.

She turned, releasing his hand immediately, and sat down. Almost instantly, she rose again. “What’s this?” she asked, feeling the cushion beneath her. She pulled out a book. “The Knight of St. John: A Romance. Oh, how lovely. I shall be entertained all the way to Richmond.”

Nick felt a small stab of satisfaction. At least he had done something right.

He swung up on his mount, and Nathaniel followed suit. They rode side by side while two carriages stuffed with Eastwoods and Bursnells followed behind. It was unseasonably cold and the sky threatened rain. How delightful.