Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(89)

Madeline shook her head with a disbelieving laugh. “But Justine would never try to…there's no reason for…”

“It is only a suspicion,” Lord Bagworth said quietly. “One that I trust will be quickly proven unfounded.”

“If Justine is worried that she will be eclipsed…there is no one capable of competing with her, least of all me.”

Lord Bagworth managed to smile through his worry. “From a long acquaintance with your family, Mrs. Scott, I've observed how you have always stood in the shadow of your older sisters. You deserve to be recognized as an attractive and accomplished woman in your own right.”

Madeline smiled distractedly, thinking only of Logan and where he might be. “Thank you, my lord. If you'll excuse me—”

“Yes, of course.” He bowed to her and remained at the windows, sighing deeply.

Logan went to the library and rummaged through the sideboard near his desk. He was unaware that someone had followed him until he heard a provocative voice ask, “What are you looking for, Mr. Scott? Or perhaps I should call you Logan. We're family now, after all.”

Logan straightened with the box of cigars in hand, watching sardonically as Madeline's sister Justine entered the room and closed the door. “Is there something I can help you with, Lady Bagworth?” he asked, his expression unreadable.

“I would like to have a private discussion with you.”

“I don't have time,” he said brusquely. “I have guests to attend to.”

“And their needs are more important than those of your family?”

Logan regarded her with a cool gaze, knowing exactly what kind of game Justine was attempting to play. In his life there had been no end of married women who had pursued him for various reasons. “What do you want?” he asked curtly, making no attempt at politeness.

His terse manner didn't seem to bother her. Justine smiled provocatively and came toward him with a slow, suggestive walk. “I want to know if you are making my sister happy. It's a matter of great concern to me.”

“You'll have to ask her, Lady Bagworth.”

“She wouldn't tell me the truth, I fear. To Madeline, the facade is everything.”

“Do you have reason to suspect that my wife is discontented?”

“Only the obvious fact that you're a mismatch, Mr. Scott. A man like you…and my little sister…I'm sure she has no idea how to handle you. Why, she must be absolutely terrified of you.”

“She doesn't give me that impression,” Logan replied sardonically, concealing his growing contempt. “Tell me, Lady Bagworth, what kind of woman do you envision as a suitable match for a man like me?”

“Someone beautiful…confident…experienced…” Justine shrugged her shoulders in a practiced manner, letting her puffed sleeves drop to her elbows, the front of her blue silk gown drooping over her br**sts until the tips were nearly exposed. She leaned back against a table, pushing her cle**age together, and slanted a look from beneath her lashes.

The pose was so blatant that Logan nearly laughed. “A charming invitation,” he said, his dry tone implying the opposite. “However, I have no interest in any woman but my wife.”

Justine's eyes glinted with jealous fury. “That can't be true,” she said baldly. “You can't prefer that timid, plain mouse over me!”

Logan stared at her with a mocking smile. Of all the words that could be used to describe the rebellious girl who had enthusiastically invaded his life and changed everything, “timid” and “plain” were not among them. “I suggest that you pull up your dress, Lady Bagworth, and return to the ball.”

His flat refusal only seemed to fuel her determination. “I can make you want me,” she said, and launched herself at him.

Logan's mockery evaporated as he tried to separate himself from the woman who was suddenly tangled around him. The box fell to the floor, perfect blended cigars spilling over the carpet. Logan let out a breath of mingled amusement and disbelief. It was like performing in a bad farce. In the brief struggle, he barely heard the opening of the library door. All of a sudden he heard his wife's voice, and he felt a stab of dismay. Bloody hell, he thought, glancing in Madeline's direction.

“I've been looking for you, Justine,” Madeline said, staring at her sister rather than Logan. For once it was impossible to see what she was thinking, her face still and guarded.

Logan's jaw bunched tightly. With Justine's dress in disarray, the proximity of their bodies…he was well aware of how it looked. If there was anything he couldn't stand, it was being manipulated by a woman.

Shooting Justine a murderous glance, he shoved her away and turned to face Madeline. One part of his mind suggested slyly that he should have made use of the opportunity to humble Madeline once and for all. But he instantly rejected the idea. Whatever else Madeline thought of him, it was paramount that she know he had no designs on her sister. He had no desire to be unfaithful to her.

“Maddy…” he started, and for the first time in his life realized that he was at a loss for words. Sweating, furious, he thought of a dozen ways to explain the situation but couldn't seem to produce a sound.

Justine gave Madeline a defiant glance, her lips curving triumphantly. “Your husband couldn't seem to help himself,” she said. “All I wanted was to talk to him, but he—”