The Harlot Countess (Wicked Deceptions #2)(20)

Markham’s brows dipped. “I beg your pardon?”

“The cartoon was drawn by Lemarc, not Rowlandson.”

“Oh, yes, Lemarc. Clever gents, those cartoonists. I wonder how they’re privy to the on-dits used in their drawings.”

If they’re smart, they host parties. “Who knows? Perhaps they are more resourceful than we give them credit for.”

He leaned in, as if to share a great secret. “All you need is to press a coin into the right palm, m’dear. Any information can be bought.”

That comment gave her pause. Markham was active in Parliament, so was he speaking from experience? More to the point, perhaps she could use this opportunity to undermine Winchester’s proposal. Yes, this evening was looking up.

At that moment, the duchess announced dinner. Markham presented his arm. “Shall we?”





Chapter Six


“Simon, really. You must stop glaring at her,” Julia said.

Simon and Julia were making their way down to dinner, last in the line of guests. He clenched his jaw and forced his gaze away from Maggie and Markham. Anger still burned in his gut, however. Markham had attached himself to Lady Hawkins like an apothecary’s leech from the moment she’d arrived. Did the man have no shame?

“And you are the one who insisted I invite Markham,” Julia continued.

“Thank you for the reminder,” he muttered.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you jealous. This is quite interesting.”

He made a dismissive noise as they reached the stairs. “I’m hardly jealous of Markham. There’s a reason his wife stays in Cornwall and no mistress will tolerate him for more than a few weeks. The man wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if she dropped, naked, into his lap.”

“A good thing we’ve been friends forever, otherwise my husband might take offense to the nature of this conversation.”

“Colton hardly scares me. After all, I’m the reason you two reconciled. He should thank me every chance he gets.”

“Oh, it was your doing, was it?”

He grinned down at her. “You never would have made it to Venice without my assistance.”

“True, but I had the hard part.”

“Please.” He held up his free hand. “Let’s not discuss Colton’s virility before I’ve food in my stomach. I’m likely to lose my appetite.”

Julia chuckled. “You are incorrigible. It’s a wonder anyone takes you seriously in Parliament.”

“They don’t know me as well as you do, that’s how.”

“Quite so. Otherwise, they would not be so easily intimidated by the illustrious statesman you’ve become.”

They entered the enormous dining room. Colton had taken his place at the head of the elaborate table, Julia’s aunt on his right. Simon noted that Markham had, of course, secured the chair beside Maggie. Bloody fool.

“Ease up, Simon,” Julia muttered. “You are crushing my hand.”

“My apologies.”

“You know, you deserve everything she gives you and more,” the duchess said under her breath as they took their seats.

“I shall remember you said as much,” he returned, “especially when Colton asks me if you’ve ever visited a gaming—”

She slapped his arm. “Simon! Do not breathe a word of that to my husband.”

“Something amiss, Duchess?” Colton called, glancing between his wife and Simon.

Julia gave him a perfectly innocent look. “No, Colton. Merely starving.” She signaled to the footman to begin service.

Simon purposely averted his gaze from Maggie and Markham during dinner. Maggie’s encouraging grins at the viscount made Simon contemplate stabbing someone with a dinner fork. So he drank more than he ate. Not until the sixth course did he realize he was fast on his way to becoming soused.

It didn’t help that she was bloody beautiful, the witch. He wished he’d stop noticing, but he could picture every detail, every curve—even with his eyes closed. All those years ago, he’d spent hours pondering the delicate bones in her wrist. Or the curve of her ear. Imagining her bare, soft breasts would have turned him hard as stone.

Tonight, the tops of said breasts were pushed absurdly high. He found the lush, creamy swells incredibly distracting, as likely did every other able-bodied male in the room.

And why had she come tonight? He hadn’t expected to see her here. At the very least, Julia should’ve warned him Maggie would be attending. Then he could have sent his regrets.

“Would you care to go and lie down?” Julia asked him quietly. “You are drawing stares.”

He straightened and forked up a bite of roasted lamb. “Do not be ridiculous.”

“Will you ever tell me what happened?”

Everything you likely hoped for and worse. The comment had pricked at him for days. What had Maggie meant? He noticed Julia studying him and tried to remember her question. Damned wine. “What?”

“I asked if you would tell me what happened between the two of you.”

“No.”

Julia contemplated his answer while she chewed. “Perhaps I’ll get Lady Hawkins to tell me, then.”

“Ask her if you wish, but you know what everyone knows. There’s nothing more to the tale.” She’d made a fool of him. The end. What more needed to be discussed?