Page 39 of The Duke of Deceit

“Which means he deserves it more than anyone else. Besides, I would love to see Crewe bested. It would entertain me for days!”

Jess didn’t know Viscountess Bromley very well, but the woman’s unconventional reputation had always preceded her. Flamboyant, outgoing, and not at all passive in any way, Lady Bromley had reached that special point in life when she could do or say pretty much whatever she wanted, and all of it was simply chalked up to eccentricity.

“Tell me, my dear.” Lady Bromley leaned closer to Jess. “Is there any truth to what the gossip pages are reporting about you and Crewe?”

She prayed her cheeks didn’t look as heated as they felt. “He’s a rake!”

“So no truth to it, then?”

“Absolutely not!”

But the critical look that Lady Bromley gave her told Jess the woman didn’t believe her. Not at all.

“Hmm.”

So did that.

Jess was forced to admit the awful truth. “What would a man like him want with a woman like me?” Her heart tore just a bit as she explained, “I’m not at all his sort. I’m middle-class and proper.” Then she had no choice but to add, “Even if he seems to be turning a new leaf toward goodness and being charitable.”

“Turning a new leaf, is he?” Lady Bromley reached for the teapot and refreshed her cup. Then she mused, half to herself, “Lord Bromley was an odd one. Liked to collect all kinds of exotic things and put them on display in our house. Gave him and his chums something to talk about, I suppose, after dinner when the ladies had gone through to the drawing room and they were left to their port and cigars.” As she told the story, completely apropos of nothing as far as Jess could tell, sheslowly stirred in a drizzle of honey. “One of this favorites was an old leopard skin he’d picked up at the docks, most likely from some sea captain with a route to Africa.” She splashed in a bit of milk. “For twenty years, that skin lay on the floor in front of the fireplace in Bromley’s study. Twenty years.” She slid a knowing look at Jess over the rim of her teacup as she raised it to her lips. “And not once, in all those years, did its spots ever change.”

The warning was not lost on Jess, yet she pointed out the obvious. “That leopard was dead.”

“So are the hearts of most peers.” She punctuated the moral of her story with a long, loud sip of tepid tea.

Jess dropped her gaze to her untouched plate, her mind swirling and her heart aching, although she wasn’t exactly certain what it was aching for. She paid little attention as Lady Holkham stood to call an end to the tea, thanked everyone for supporting the charity for which she was a patron, and invited them to linger by strolling around the house and gardens. The footmen opened the French doors leading out into the gardens, and the harpist who had played during lunch wheeled her large harp out onto the terrace.

New excitement rose through the room. The ladies’ curiosity to poke about in Lady Holkham’s flowers could barely be contained.

At least now Jess could make her quiet goodbyes and slip away for home. Not a moment too soon, either.

“Don’t look now, my dear,” Lady Bromley murmured, “but a dead leopard is headed straight for you.”

Jess’s gaze darted up just in time to see Lucien arrive in front of her table.

“Hello, Miss St Claire.” His velvety voice tingled down her spine and made her catch her breath. Goodness, he was handsome, even as irritating and infuriating as he was. “I trust you had a pleasant tea.”

She clenched her teeth and forced out, “Simply delightful.”

He gave a low chuckle, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “Glad to hear it.” He inclined his head toward the viscountess. “Lady Bromley, so good to see you again. I hope you’ve been well.”

“Very well. How kind of you to say, Duke.” Lady Bromley’s lips curled like the cat who’d gotten into the cream as she rose from her chair, then waved at someone on the other side of the room in greeting. “Agnes—there you are!”

Jess craned her neck but saw no one waving back.

“Lady Agnes needs to speak with me,” the viscountess said, although Jess couldn’t see Lady Agnes Sinclair anywhere in the room.Ifshe were even in attendance at all. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She darted away before Jess could stop her.

Lucien’s amusement only grew. So did Jess’s irritation.

He held out his hand. “Take a turn about the garden with me.”

“No.”

He glanced over his shoulder, and his amusement faded when he saw Lady Holkham winding her way through the tables toward him, slowed in her hunt only by women who wanted to chat with her. “If we don’t go soon, we’ll both be stuck conversing with Lady Holkham.”

“I don’t mind her ladyship.” She cocked her head and leveled a blistering glare at him. “Andyoudeserve to be trapped into a conversation about hats and muslin prints.”