The Study of Seduction (Sinful Suitors, #2)(32)
Edwin’s gaze narrowed. “Are you calling me a liar, sir?”
Wilkins looked suddenly as if he’d rather be anywhere but there. “No. I’m merely saying you’ve been misinformed.”
“Deuce take it, someone has been misinforming people again,” one of the pups chimed in. “You’d best nip that in the bud, Wilkins. Your father might hear of it and cut you off.”
“I heard he’s already done that,” one of his compatriots said. “But perhaps I was misinformed.”
The pups erupted into laughter, which the major didn’t apparently find the least amusing, for he glowered at them all.
Gathering his wounded dignity about him, he nodded to Clarissa. “I believe I shall return when you aren’t so plagued with visitors, madam.” Then he shot Edwin a daggered glance before leaving the box.
The pups continued their fun after he was gone. “He’s headed off to find that dastardly misinformer.”
“I thought he was a scandalous liar?”
“Clearly he’s neither, since the ‘lie’ sent the major off with his tail between his legs. What is that saying about fire and smoke?”
“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire?”
“No, where there’s smoking, there’s fire, and the major was smoking, to be sure.”
“You see what you started?” Clarissa complained to Edwin.
“Don’t blame me if your friends are idiots,” he shot back.
“Hey!” one of the pups said in mock outrage. “I am not an idiot. I am a fool.”
“At least you’re not a misinformer,” another said, and they split their sides laughing.
“Oh, you gentlemen are too awful,” Lady Margrave said, tittering along with them, as did her cronies. “The poor major. And he does have such a fondness for my daughter, too.”
“A fondness for her fortune, you mean,” Edwin said sharply, not in the mood to endure Lady Margrave’s lack of perception.
Clarissa lifted an eyebrow. “I do hope you’re not implying that my only attractions are my fortune, Edwin.”
“If he is, he’s blind,” chirped a pup lounging against the wall. “You’re the jewel in England’s crown, Lady Clarissa, with eyes of emeralds and ruby lips and hair of spun gold.”
“Jewels? Gold?” she said tartly. “Sounds as if you still have my wealth in mind, sir.”
The young man blinked. “I only meant—”
“She knows what you meant.” Edwin met her gaze, which he found more the quality of warm, rich jade than cold emeralds. “And she knows perfectly well what I meant, too. She’s just toying with us both.”
She smiled sweetly. “Am I, indeed? Do I detect a note of criticism?”
“You do not. I’m merely making an observation.”
Her smile broadened as she moved up next to him. “Take care, sir. With each of your ‘observations’ about me, you slide closer to criticism.”
Lowering his voice, he stared down into her lovely face. “You will not win this wager.”
“Ah, but I will.” She tapped his chest with her fan, provoking a slow, steady simmer in his blood. “You can no more stop taking me to task than you can stop breathing.”
“It’s better than turning you into a pile of jewels.”
He and Clarissa were close enough to kiss, to embrace, to behave in the most wildly inappropriate manner. He could smell her cinnamon-scented breath, see the taunting tilt of her smile. The others disappeared for him, and all he could think was how badly he wanted to seize her and kiss that impudent mouth over and over until he’d broken through to the real Clarissa, whoever that might be.
Her smile faltered a little, and a dark awareness flickered in her eyes, as if she’d read his thoughts and guessed exactly all the ways he wanted to taste and caress and plunder her.
Then a feminine voice sounded from the doorway. “Are we interrupting anything?”
Clarissa started, then glanced over and renewed her smile. “Do come in, Lady Anne. How good to see you.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” the young lady said, “but I brought a friend with me.”
“Of course I don’t . . .”
As her words died, Edwin saw a change come over Clarissa. When she began to flutter her fan in front of her bosom again and her posture stiffened until she looked like a deer poising for flight, the simmer in his blood cooled to ice.
Edwin turned to find Durand standing there with Lady Anne.
Bloody, bloody hell.
Nine
Clarissa’s stomach churned as Count Durand raked her with a slow, wolfish glance. Edwin must have seen it, for she heard him mutter an oath and felt him start forward.
Catching his arm, she said under her breath, “Not now. Not here.”
He stopped, thank heaven, though she could feel the barely leashed tension in his muscles even through his coat sleeve.
She forced herself to speak again. “I trust that you’re enjoying the burlesque, Lady Anne?” She refused to address that blackguard Durand directly.
“It’s very silly but I love it!” Tonight Lady Anne wore one of her more outrageous hats, which was sillier than anything Madame Vestris could have come up with for the stage. “The count’s box is only a short way down from yours, so we thought we’d come see what you thought of it.”