To Sin With A Scoundrel (19 page)

“I wouldn’t know, my dear. So we will both simply have to fake it.” On impulse, he lifted her hand and slowly kissed the tip
of each finger.

“Hadley!”
she whispered. “People are starting to stare.”

“That’s rather the point, sweetheart.” He winked. “I could have chosen a more intimate spot to embrace, but I wouldn’t want
you to fall into a swoon.”

With that, Lucas broke away and leapt lightly onto the stage. “Come, Lady Ashton, let us not keep your guests in suspense.”

“What is Mad, Bad Had-ley up to now?” asked someone in the first row.

“Something outrageous—you can count on it!” came the answer.

“Actually, I have come to announce quite the opposite,” said Lucas with a jaunty bow. “From now on, I am a reformed man.”

A rude sound rose from the back.

“No, no, I am quite serious. I mean to give up my former way of life and embrace the pleasures of matrimony.”

“Ha! I’ll lay two-to-one odds at White’s that any engagement doesn’t last a week,” called one of his fellow club members.

Lucas ignored the jibe. “Indeed, I consider myself the most fortunate man in the world that Lady Sheffield has consented to
be my bride.”

There was a moment of dead silence, then a burst of excited voices. Several ladies shrieked. Lucas wasn’t positive, but one
of them appeared to faint on the spot.

“I’m sure I speak for everyone when I offer you and your intended all the best wishes for future happiness.” Lady Ashton handed
him a glass. “Have a drink, Hadley,” she murmured. “It may be the last one you enjoy without wondering what has been added
to it.”

“To my future bride.” Lucas quaffed the champagne in one long swallow.

There was a smattering of polite applause.

Knowing that Ciara would rather die than be displayed on the stage, he quickly thought of a compromise. “And now, let the
musicians strike up another waltz. My elation is such that I find I can’t stand still.”

As the violins struck up the first chords of a lilting Viennese tune, Lucas hurried to claim Ciara’s hand. “Just smile,” he
murmured, leading her out to the middle of the dance floor. “And look at me with adoring eyes.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You handled that extremely well, sir.”

“Not that I’ve had much practice in announcing an engagement,” he said wryly.

She quickened her steps to match his. “I’m sure next time around, you will be even smoother.”

Lucas kept a smile on his face. “Lud, I hope there won’t be a next time.”

Her gaze remained intent. “You will have to set up your nursery at some point and beget an heir.”

“I’m not about to cock up my toes anytime soon,” he replied. He spun her in a circle. “Am I?”

“That is
not
funny, Hadley.” However, her lips did quirk. “How can you joke at a time like this?” she added under her breath.

“These are precisely the sort of moments when humor is called for.” Lucas acknowledged a call of congratulations with a broad
grin. “Life is full of little absurdities. You cannot take them so seriously, Lady Sheffield, or they will crush you.”

She was silent for several steps. “You think me too serious, and I think you too serendipitous… I wonder if there is any middle
ground?”

Lucas pivoted on the polished parquet. “I wouldn’t know. My path in life seems to veer from highs to lows, with nothing in
between.”

Ciara’s expression took on a strange pinch.

“Come, sweetheart, you are not allowed to look pensive, remember? Trust me, this will all work in your favor. Society loves
nothing so much as a roguish rake reformed by love.”

She forced a smile.

“That’s better. Let us enjoy the moment. This is an evening for merriment and celebration.” But as he turned to escort Ciara
from the dance floor, he saw several members of the Sheffield family, circled like grim vultures near the colonnaded archway.

If looks could kill…

Angling his shoulders to shield her from their stares, Lucas countered their scowls with a cool nod.

They said nothing as he passed by, but he felt a prickling at the back of his neck, like daggers dancing against his flesh.
He sensed that he hadn’t heard the last of them.

At breakfast the next morning, Ciara decided not to look at the newspaper. Alessandra was coming for luncheon, and no doubt
her friend would give her a detailed report of the news in the gossip columns—discreetly editing out the nastier comments.

To his credit, Lord Hadley had been surprisingly sensitive in arranging the events of the previous evening. She watched a
tendril of steam float up from her teacup, recalling every nuanced sensation of his body as they danced—the warmth of his
hand on the small of her back, the strong, solid feel of his thighs brushing her skirts, the sure-footed grace of his rhythm.
The sensuous sound of his laughter, the silky stretch of his smile.
She swallowed a tiny sigh. Indeed, he had taken it upon himself to bear the brunt of the
ton’
s reactions, deflecting both the well-meaning wishes and inquisitive comments with a mixture of humor and charm.

It was rather nice to let someone else step in and solve a problem—she certainly had enough of them to share. But such musings
were unrealistic, she chided herself. She could not depend on it happening again. Despite his well-muscled shoulders, Lord
Hadley could not be expected to bear her burdens for much longer.

Forcing her thoughts away from the earl, Ciara put aside her cup. With that in mind, she had better get back to work on Henry’s
manuscript. The code was proving perversely difficult to decipher, but she had a few new ideas to try.

The hours passed quickly, and before she knew it, McCabe knocked to announce that her guests had arrived. Hurrying down to
the entrance hall, she found Peregrine already there and proudly displaying his newfound knowledge of cricket.

“See, Isa—you hold the ball like so!” he exclaimed, showing the grip that Lord Hadley had taught him.

“Perry, why don’t you take Isabella to the garden for a more detailed demonstration,” suggested Ciara.

“So, the deed is done?” asked Alessandra, once the children had raced off.

“Yes.”

Her friend untied the strings of her bonnet and set it on the side table.
“And?”

“You have probably read all the grisly details,” said Ciara.

“Actually, it sounded rather romantic.”

Her breath caught in her throat for an instant as she once again recalled the glittering candlelight, the lilting music, the
feel of the earl’s body moving in perfect rhythm with hers.

“How can you say such a thing!” she exclaimed, trying to quell the flutter of longing in her chest.

“Lord Hadley is a sinfully attractive man,
cara,
” replied her friend. “You would have to have ice water in your veins not to have enjoyed the moment just a little.”

“‘Sinful’ is the key word.” Ciara busied herself rearranging the objects on the side table, unwilling to meet her friend’s
gaze. “At midnight, the man was waltzing with me. An hour later, he was likely dancing beneath the sheets with one of his
fancy ladybirds.”

“You aren’t sleeping with him, then?”

“Alessandra!”

“Just asking,
cara
.” Her friend took her arm. “Come, I shall stop my teasing, as it seems to be upsetting you.”

“I’m not upset. I’m merely…”

Confused? Conflicted?
Ciara left the sentence unfinished.

Alessandra waited for a moment and then carefully changed the subject. “Tell me, how is your work coming on the baronet’s
manuscript?”

“I am glad you asked,” she replied. “I’m having a devilishly difficult time with a section of the code and could use your
advice.”

“My skills in ancient cryptography patterns are a little rusty, but I shall be happy to take a look.”

“I will fetch my notes and meet you in the morning room.” With the French doors open to the garden, they would be able to
keep an eye on the children at play. “Today, the sporting session should pass without any serious bodily injury.”

“Yes, Peregrine seems to have acquired an expertise in cricket since the last game,” remarked Alessandra. “Don’t tell me you
managed to decipher that manual on pitching techniques.” She waved her bejeweled hands. “Good heavens, to me it was more puzzling
than ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics!”

“No,” admitted Ciara. “It was Lord Hadley who gave him a few pointers.”

“Hadley? With Perry? How did that come about?”

“It’s not important.” For some reason, she had not told the ‘Sinners’ about her side wager with Lord Hadley. Not even Alessandra.
Feeling a little foolish, she added, “Please, let us forget about the earl, if you don’t mind.”

That, however, proved easier said than done.

They had no sooner spread out the notes on the table and settled into their chairs when a knock at the door drew a muttered
oath from Ciara.

“Blast, I wonder what that could be?” Sighing, she added an apology to her friend. “McCabe usually knows better than to disturb
us when we are working.”

The butler cracked the door in answer to the call to come in. “Forgive me, madam, but you have a caller.”

“Inform whoever it is that I am not receiving visitors,” she muttered.

“I did so, madam,” replied McCabe with a sniff.

“But he—”

“He refused to take no for an answer.” Lucas shouldered his way around her baleful butler, his arms laden with several odd-shaped
parcels.

“S-sir,” stammered Ciara, rising so quickly that a sheaf of notes slid from her lap.

“Forgive the intrusion, Lady Sheffield. I did not realize you were already entertaining,” he said, smoothly shifting the packages
to retrieve the fallen papers. Eyeing Alessandra through the spill of his sable hair, the earl turned the gesture into an
artful bow. “Might I have the honor of being introduced to your lovely friend?”

Lud, nothing seemed to throw the earl off balance.
He probably contrived to look graceful even when falling naked into a fountain.

Aware of her own skittering pulse, she tried to control the quaver of her voice. “But it’s far too early for morning calls.”

“Ah, but a fiancé should be allowed a few small liberties, should he not?” replied Lucas with a charming smile.

“No—” began Ciara.

“Why, yes,” countered Alessandra. “Of course.” Her friend rose gracefully and extended a hand. “You need no introduction,
Lord Hadley.”

“Alas, it seems that my reputation precedes me,” he murmured, his lips brushing her rings.

“Allow me to introduce Marchesa della Giamatti,” said Ciara, feeling a little flustered. “She is privy to our business arrangement,
sir,” she added softly. “So there is no need for false flatteries.”

Arching a brow, Alessandra waggled a subtle reproach.

However, the unexpected sight of Hadley’s smiling face was having an unnerving effect on her. “As you can see, sir, we are
rather busy with a session of serious scholarship. So if you don’t mind…”

“I did not intend to interrupt your work, Lady Sheffield. I just stopped to leave off these packages.”

“What are they?” she asked suspiciously.

Lucas slowly peeled the wrapping paper from the top item. “First of all, these are for you.”

A rush of air slipped from her lips on regarding the bouquet of flowers. Instead of the usual formal arrangement of roses
or tulips, the individual blooms were a mixture of sizes and shapes, their subtle palette of pale blues and delicate lavenders
set off by curling green fronds of lacy ferns. The effect was striking—the natural forms seemed so gloriously alive.

“Bellissimo,”
murmured Alessandra.

“Y-yes, they are quite beautiful,” intoned Ciara, feeling her heart give a lurch as he passed them over.

“The other parcel is for Peregrine.” Lucas glanced at the two children tossing the ball back and forth. “I take it the young
lady is the errant marksman who hit him square between the eyes.”

“My daughter, Isabella,” explained Alessandra. “As for her aim, it is improving.” After a fraction of a pause, she added,
“That is to say, there have been no near-fatalities this morning.”

“Miss Isabella looks to have excellent form. I daresay with a few more pointers—and the correct equipment—both she and Peregrine
will pose no imminent peril to each other.” Untying the twine, Lucas parted the paper to reveal several varnished cricket
bats and a half-dozen new balls. “Silliman’s finest,” he said. “I took the liberty of selecting the proper models for children.
With your permission, Lady Sheffield…” His brow winged up in question.

Ciara gave a tiny nod.

“Excellent.” Lucas moved to the door. “I shall leave you ladies to your work, while I indulge in a little play.” He had the
audacity to wink. “As you can imagine, we dissolute rakes are not up to any intellectual efforts this early in the day.”

A whoop of delight from Peregrine greeted the earl as he sauntered outside. The new sporting gear elicited even more excitement,
and after a brief interlude of eager inspection, both children were pleading for him to join in the game.