My Wicked Little Lies (19 page)

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Authors: Victoria Alexander

BOOK: My Wicked Little Lies
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He drew his brows together. “Mere?”
“Don’t be arrogant, darling. It was an exceptional kiss.”
He grinned. “I know.”
“Exceptional kisses are one of the reasons why I married you.”
“I know that, too.”
“I am still furious with you.”
“I know that as well.” He nodded. “And I expect nothing less.”
“Admittedly, I might be somewhat less furious than I was originally.”
“Then I am making progress.” He paused. “Would a diamond bracelet make you less furious and help earn your forgiveness?”
“Adrian.” Her brow furrowed. “I am not that shallow. You cannot atone for your sins with a mere bauble.”
“It’s scarcely mere,” he said under his breath.
“Furthermore, my forgiveness cannot be bought.”
He gasped in mock horror. “I never imagined it would. I simply thought, as your birthday is approaching, a gift in advance would not be inappropriate.”
She studied him for a long moment. “You are a sly and wicked devil, Adrian Hadley-Attwater.”
“But I am your sly and wicked devil.”
“Yes, you are.” She tilted her head to one side and considered him. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“In the spirit of, oh, giving you due credit for your edging closer to amends ...” She held out her hand. “I am willing to accept a gift in advance of my birthday.”
He bit back a satisfied grin. “How very gracious of you.”
“I think so. Besides ...” She shrugged. “It would be rude not to accept. And one should never be rude when diamonds are involved. Well.” She glanced pointedly at her outstretched hand.
He patted his waistcoat pocket, then grimaced. “I seem to have left it at the house.”
“No doubt,” she said dryly. “And I assume I need to return home to receive my bribe? Or rather, my gift?”
He nodded. “And the matching ear bobs.”
“Why am I not surprised?” She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “We can continue this discussion later. Now, however, we should join the others. I’m certain your mother has told the rest of the family that we are in the midst of a dreadful row and I am no longer living under your roof.”
He chuckled. “She wouldn’t be my mother otherwise.”
Evie started toward the parlor doors, then paused; her tone abruptly sober. “I am still angry with you, and hurt.”
“I know,” he said quietly.
Her gaze met his, and he wasn’t sure he had realized until that moment how very much his lack of trust had hurt her. He ignored the thought that if she ever learned of his deception as Sir, she would be hurt again and far worse. His determination to keep that knowledge from her strengthened.
“I will make amends for my behavior, Evie, you have my word. If it takes the rest of my life.”
“Oh, darling.” A slow smile spread across her face. “It will.”
 
 
It was an excellent dinner, which had nothing to do with the skills of Diana’s cook and everything to do with the glances Adrian traded across the table with his wife. Good God, he felt as if they’d turned the clock back two years and he had to start at the beginning. He had to win her heart again. Still now, as then, he was confident of success.
Dinners, with the entire family in attendance, had become something of a tradition now that all of his siblings were adults with lives of their own. Every other month or so, Diana and her husband, James, or Adrian’s mother or his youngest sister, Miranda, or Portia, both widows who had homes of their own, or Bianca, who still resided in the house she had shared with her estranged husband, or he and Evie would host the gathering. As Sebastian was now married, he and Veronica would take their turn as well although it might be wise to ease her into it as she had little family of her own. Still, her relations had joined the Hadley-Attwaters this past Christmas at Sebastian’s new country home, and Veronica had handled the large number of guests with ease, all things considered. Hugh, as a widower, was never expected to have the family for dinner, which he had long joked was one reason to remain unwed.
“Evelyn,” Bianca said, in a tone far too innocent to be legitimate. “Do tell us what you are doing with your house.”
“Quite honestly, I’m not sure yet.” Evie sipped her wine thoughtfully. “Thus far I have had a small army of linen drapers and paper hangers and painters and I’ve lost track of who else traipsing through the house taking measurements and assessing what needs to be done. They are supposed to come back to me with suggestions and ideas and, hopefully, solid plans for refurbishing.”
“The house was your parents’, wasn’t it?” Miranda asked.
Evie nodded. “My guardian leased it out for years, but I lived there after my school years until I married Adrian. My secretary resides there now, which is most reassuring.” She shook her head. “I hate the thought of it being unoccupied.”
“Understandable.” Diana nodded. “Are you replacing the furniture as well?”
“Most of it, I think,” Evie said. “I don’t remember the house at all from my childhood, but I suspect any really good pieces vanished years ago. I have no idea if they were sold to help pay for my schooling or simply disappeared with the various tenants. What remains is sadly out of date and quite worn. The toll taken on it by tenants, you know.”
Portia glanced at Adrian. “This must be a somewhat extravagant undertaking.”
“But worth it.” He smiled at his wife. “One can never go wrong with an investment of this nature. The house itself will be far more valuable, and new furnishings will be beneficial should Miss DeRochette ever decide she prefers to live elsewhere or marries and we decide to let the house again.”
“Which I wish to avoid,” Evie said firmly. “Unless it was to family or friends.”
“Very wise of you, dear.” Helena nodded her approval.
“Didn’t your guardian die recently?” Hugh asked.
Evie nodded. “A few months ago, in November.”
Helena’s brow furrowed. “Why didn’t I know this?”
“My apologies, Mother,” Adrian said smoothly. “We might have failed to mention it.”
Helena aimed a pointed look at her oldest son. “How could you fail to mention a death in the family?”
“The fault is mine, Helena,” Evie said quickly. “Sir George was so distant a relative, I have never even been certain how exactly we are related. Indeed, I never met the man in person.”
Helena stared. “Good Lord, I had no idea.”
“Apparently, when Adrian and Evelyn married, you failed in your usual inquisition.” Diana favored her mother with a pleasant smile.
James choked back a laugh.
“Nonsense.” Helena scoffed. “I was well aware of Evelyn’s background. I was vaguely acquainted with her parents. I knew of her education and her travels and her reputation.” She glanced at Evie. “Neither perfect nor especially blemished. Frankly, I was so taken with Evelyn, I thought she was the perfect match for Adrian, that there was no need for an
inquisition
. Furthermore. . .” She leveled a hard glance at Diana. “I do not conduct inquisitions. In the best interest of my children I may, if the situation warrants it, make casual inquiries.”
Hugh snorted. Portia’s brow rose. Miranda took a quick sip of wine while Bianca bit her lip. Veronica hid her smile behind her napkin. James tried and failed to suppress a grin. Sebastian and Adrian didn’t even try. His mother was an expert at ferreting out information, especially when it came to prospective spouses for her children. He had long thought she would have made an excellent agent.
“My apologies, Mother.” Diana’s eyes sparkled with laughter. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Obviously you were thinking of someone else’s mother.” Helena huffed.
For a long moment, no one said a word, then laughter erupted around the table. Even his mother was hard-pressed to hold back a smile.
“Sebastian.” Helena turned her attention to his youngest brother. “How is the work at your house coming along?”
Sebastian had bought a large, centuries-old house in the country several months before he had met and married Veronica. While it had proved the perfect house for a family gathering at Christmas, his guests had agreed among themselves there was still much work to be accomplished.
“Thanks to my wife, it’s coming along quite well,” Sebastian said with the air of a man who was at last settled and happy.
“It’s going to be magnificent. We have already made plans for restoring the gardens once spring finally comes.” Confidence sounded in Veronica’s voice. “Of course, we have discovered the brickwork needs attention and the plumbing is not as sound as Sebastian had thought and ... oh dear.” She turned toward Evelyn. “Whatever you do with this house of yours, do not make the mistake of listing all the work that needs to be done. It can be overwhelming and will make you want to throw up your hands in surrender.”
Evie laughed. “I shall keep that in mind.”
“Veronica,” Portia began. “I was wondering if you had heard from ...”
The conversation ebbed and flowed around the table with topics leapfrogging from acquaintances misplaced to the endless winter weather to Hugh’s marital status to Portia’s sojourn in Italy and whatever else struck anyone’s fancy. It was, as always, fast and a touch furious with hardly anyone waiting until someone else had finished before launching into another topic. For a newcomer to their ranks, it could be quite intimidating, which was why Adrian had not introduced Evie to this family tradition until after they had wed. But Evie had fit in at once and indeed had reveled in the exchanges between siblings, even when, on occasion, disagreement erupted into accusation and recrimination. They were certainly not perfect, after all, as any one of them would freely admit. Nor were they reticent to express their opinions on how any of the others should live their lives. Evie had told Adrian once, after one of these dinners, this was how she had always imagined families to be but thought it farfetched that the same people who could debate at the top of their lungs and argue vehemently would, in the next minute, laugh together and defend one another without hesitation.
“I heard the most amusing story today,” Bianca began, when the dishes from the last course had been removed and the meal was drawing to a close.
“Gossip, Bianca?” Portia frowned in a forbidding manner. Veronica choked back a laugh. Years ago, Portia had gotten it into her head that the Hadley-Attwaters were entirely too proper to indulge in questionable activities such as gossip. And while they were an eminently proper family in many ways, his mother and sisters had refined gossip to a form of art. Which was probably what made it acceptable.
“I wouldn’t call it gossip,” Bianca said loftily. “It’s more in the category of news, I would think. Besides, this came to me very nearly firsthand.”
Diana raised a brow. “Very nearly?”
“Well, secondhand.” Bianca thought for a moment. “Or perhaps third.”
“Is it a good story?” Miranda asked.
Bianca nodded. “Very good.”
“Go on then.” Veronica leaned forward. “Do tell us.”
“Very well.” Bianca glanced around the table as if to confirm everyone’s undivided attention. “It seems Lady Dunwell is having an affair.”
Adrian’s stomach lurched.
Hugh snorted. “That’s scarcely news.”
“That’s not the amusing part,” Bianca said. “Apparently, Lady Dunwell was involved in an afternoon tryst at the Langham Hotel.”
Portia gasped. “I have had tea at the Langham.” She turned a scandalized gaze toward Veronica. “You and I have met for tea at the Langham.”
“I daresay Lady Dunwell wasn’t there for the tea,” Miranda said under her breath.
“They do have a lovely tea,” Veronica said in an aside to Sebastian.
“No doubt,” he murmured.
Helena leaned over and patted Portia’s hand. “I’m sure it doesn’t affect the tea, dear.”
“As I was saying,” Bianca continued, “Lady Dunwell was in a room with her paramour—”
“Who was he?” Diana asked.
“This is completely inappropriate. And at dinner.” Portia sniffed. “Aunt Helena?”
“You’re absolutely right, it is inappropriate.” Helena nodded.
Portia smiled in an altogether too sanctimonious manner.
“However, as we have no guests, no one outside the family who would judge our scandalous behavior. And as we are all simply dying of curiosity ...” Helena nodded at Bianca. “Who was the man in question?”
Bianca smirked. “Lord Radington.”
“That’s not news either.” Hugh scoffed.
“Lord Radington?” Evie’s eyes widened. “
Lord Radington?
”
Bianca nodded.
“But he’s so ... so ... obvious. His reputation is deplorable. I can’t imagine any woman in her right mind ...” Evie’s gaze fixed on her husband. Adrian tried not to flinch. “Why, his manner is entirely too practiced, and to my taste, he isn’t even especially attractive.”

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