Page 23 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
Certainly not. He’d never met a pricklier woman in his life.
Still, Benedict made an effort to hide his scowl. “Forgive me, Darlington. I’m a trifle…out of sorts. Will you have brandy?” He didn’t feel much like talking, but if anyone could set him back to rights again, itwas Darlington.
“I already have.” Darlington sipped from the tumbler in his hand with an appreciative nod. “You’re an ill-tempered fellow, Haslemere, but one can’t fault your taste in liquor.”
Benedict filled a tumbler, then crossed the room and dropped into a chair with a sigh. “I’ve had a trying evening.”
Darlington raised an eyebrow. “I doubt that. You live a charmed life, Haslemere.”
Benedict opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again without bothering. In truth, he’d had precious little to vex him in his thirty-two years. Perhaps that was why he’d become such a wastrel. “Not charmed tonight, I’m afraid. I’ve been to Lady Wylde’s, and she—”
“You were at Lady Wylde’s masque ball tonight?” Darlington frowned. “I didn’tsee you there.”
“I was, er…I spent a good part of it in Lady Wylde’s dressing room.” It wasn’t alie, exactly, and since Benedict didn’t choose to confess to spying and eavesdropping, it would have todo. “She was—”
“Thank you, Haslemere, but I don’t want to know what you and Lady Wylde got up to in herdressing room.”
“Not ablessed thing—”
“Ah. Well, that explains your scowl. She rejectedyour advances?”
“For God’s sake, Darlington. Listen to me, will you? I never made any advances. In fact, I chose an importune time to yawn and offended her feminine sensibilities. She fell into a temper and threw me out of her dressing room. But that’s not why—”
“Just as well. That woman’s a viper. I can’t think why you’d want to get tangledup in her web.”
“Vipers don’t havewebs, Darlington. You’re thinking of spiders.”
Darlington shrugged. “Nests, then, though I don’t see how that’s any better.”
“If you think Lady Wylde is such a viper, what were you doing at her ball tonight? It’s not your sort of entertainment.” Darlington’s marriage had improved him immeasurably—happiness always did that for a man—but damned if he hadn’t developed a tiresome virtuous streak.
Lady Wylde was many things, but virtuous wasn’t one of them.
“I’ve spent most of the evening asking myself the same question. I had no desire to attend, I assure you, but Miss Harley asked Cecilia if we might accompany her there as aspecial favor.”
Ah, ha. So, ithadbeen her idea to attend! He’d been right all along. “What does Georgiana Harley want with Lady Wylde?”
“No idea, and I know better than to ask. Cecilia agreed to go as a favor to Miss Harley, so we went.” Darlington’s voice took on the tender, husky quality it always did when he spoke of his wife. “I was surprised at it, though. Cecilia was, too. Miss Harley despises balls.”
As far as Benedict could tell, she despised most things.
“She didn’t say a word about why she wanted to go?” Benedict wasn’t sure why he bothered to ask. Of course, she hadn’t. Miss Harley’s tongue might be covered in barbs, but he’d seen for himself how well she held it. The woman was a cipher.
“No. She didn’t confide in Cecilia, either. I suspect it’s some business of Lady Clifford’s, otherwise Miss Harley wouldn’t have been so secretive about it.”
Secretive. Yes, that was a good word for it. Lady Wylde’s ballroom, more than any other in London, was swirling with scandals and gossip and secrets. The question was, which secret was GeorgianaHarley chasing?
Or whose?
Benedict sipped at his brandy, then set his tumbler aside. “Did Draven ever appear at the ball, Darlington? Lady Wylde mentioned he planned to attend.”
Darlington stared hard at him, then asked abruptly, “This is about Jane, isn’t it?”
“Why would you assume it has anything to do with Jane?” Benedict asked, avoiding Darlington’s perceptive gaze.
“Because I know you, Haslemere. You wouldn’t give up a night of debauchery with Lady Wylde for anyone other than Jane, or Freddy.”
Benedict let out a dry laugh. “Is that a polite way of saying I’m a selfish, degenerate sot, Darlington?”
