His Wicked Charm. Candace Camp

with her. Yet he had seemed sincere. He had looked at her in a way that stole her breath.

      Lilah was not a naive girl just making her debut. She knew better than to take compliments seriously—especially not the compliments of charming men like Constantine Moreland. She had done her best to learn all there was to know about Con, and she was well aware of his reputation as an inveterate flirt. He never pursued any particular young lady, dancing with this one, flirting with that one.

      That was her answer, she supposed: Con had been flirting with her, and Lilah wasn’t adept at flirting. She had taken him too seriously. Or else he had been testing her, seeing just how far he could push her sense of propriety. That was an irritating thought. Lowering, as well.

      It would be better to just put him out of her mind. Especially since she had overslept and was in danger of being late to breakfast. It was always served promptly at eight o’clock. She rang for her maid and dressed quickly, doing her hair up in a simple knot. She stepped into the dining room at eight on the dot.

      Uncle Horace looked up at her and smiled. “Ah, Delilah. Just in time.”

      “Good morning, Uncle. Aunt Helena.” Her uncle was a good man, if somewhat rigid about his schedule. He had taken on the raising of another’s child, which could not have been an easy thing for a man who was accustomed to an orderly, childless life.

      “Not much interesting in the newspaper today,” Uncle Horace announced. It was his custom to read aloud to his wife and niece the stories he deemed suitable for the delicate ears of women, placidly unaware that after he left each morning, Lilah took the newspaper and read what she wanted. “I saw Sir Jasper at the club yesterday. I think he might drop in today.”

      Lilah maintained a polite expression, though inwardly she groaned. Her uncle proceeded to talk about this acquaintance and that. Aunt Helena related the elegance of Mrs. Baldwin’s gown at the musicale the night before.

      “Baldwin’s a capital fellow,” Uncle Horace stated. “Though I gather their youngest boy is a bit wild. Not the sort I would allow to court you of course.” Uncle Horace patted Lilah’s hand.

      “No, naturally.” Though Lilah had no desire to be courted by Terence Baldwin, finding him both a bore and a libertine, it scraped at her nerves whenever her uncle made such decisions for her. Lilah could just imagine what the duchess would say about Uncle Horace’s pronouncement. She had to bring up her handkerchief to her mouth to hide a smile.

      “Your aunt tells me you had dinner with the Duke and Duchess of Broughton last night.”

      “Lady Anna was kind enough to invite me to stay.” Lilah avoided a direct lie.

      “You really should not have, dear,” Aunt Helena said, frowning. “Of course I could hardly refuse permission when Lady Moreland asked it, especially since she said it would please the duchess. But it’s not the way things should be done.”

      Lilah felt another flash of annoyance. She was over twenty-one now; she scarcely needed her aunt’s permission to do something.

      “One would think a duchess would better understand the rules of polite behavior,” Aunt Helena went on. “But then, of course, her family was only country gentry. Everyone was surprised when Broughton married her.”

      But she knew how to drive a wagon, Lilah thought, which had been more useful last night than needlepoint. Immediately she felt a twinge of guilt at even thinking something disloyal to her aunt.

      “Odd lot, the Morelands,” Uncle Horace commented. “No finer lineage in England of course, but still…no denying they’re peculiar.” He then turned the conversation away from the Morelands, which was a relief to Lilah.

      However, later, when Lilah and her aunt had settled down in the morning room, as was their daily custom, Aunt Helena turned to her with a worried frown. “Delilah…I cannot but wonder if it was a mistake to let you spend so much time with the Morelands.”

      Lilah swallowed her irritation. “But surely you cannot object. Uncle Horace said they’re one of the best families in England.”

      “Yes, but it’s a double-edged sword to be connected with that family. It raises your status, of course, to be on familiar terms with a duchess, but you run the risk of their reputation coloring yours.”

      Lilah stiffened. “You speak as if they weren’t received.”

      “Of course they’re received. But he is a duke. One has to do a great deal to be a duke and have society snub you. It’s quite different for a young lady such as yourself.”

      “I think my reputation is undisputed. The Holcutts are an old family, too.”

      “Yes, but one must always be careful to maintain your reputation. You in particular must be especially circumspect, given the behavior of your father’s sister.”

      “That was years ago. Surely it’s been forgotten.”

      “And you must not do anything to cause people to remember.” Her aunt leaned forward and took her hand. “I understand, sweetheart, that it is hard to have that sword of Damocles hanging over you. But we have been so careful to ensure your pristine reputation. I would hate to see you abandon it on a whim.”

      “I have not abandoned it, I assure you.” Lilah’s cheeks flamed with color. “I have done nothing wrong.”

      “I know. But your actions yesterday! Going to call on them, then staying over for supper on the spur of the moment. Why, you had nothing but your walking dress to wear to dinner.”

      “The Morelands are much more casual about such things.”

      “That is my point. I fear they are a terrible influence on you. Your actions yesterday were impulsive and inappropriate. You showed a lack of respect for me, which you have never done before.” Tears glittered in her eyes before she blinked them away. “I fear that your Holcutt blood may lead you astray.”

      Lilah’s resentment was washed away in a flood of remorse. “I’m sorry. I never intended any disrespect to you. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. I’m well aware of all you’ve done for me.”

      “Dearest girl, I do not ask your gratitude. I did it because I loved my sister, and I love you. I couldn’t allow your father to ruin your chances. All I want is for you to make a good marriage and live a pleasant life.”

      “I know. I want that, as well.” Her aunt was right; that was the sensible thing to do. That was what she wanted, too. The Morelands were exciting, but their life was too chaotic for her. Lilah wasn’t herself around them. And she wasn’t about to let the Holcutt in her come out. “I shan’t call on them again.”

CHAPTER NINE

      CON WAS NOT going to think about Lilah Holcutt today. Nor was he going to dwell on that kiss. It had been a foolish thing for him to do. He had gotten caught up in the moment—and, yes, Lilah had looked damned desirable charging into battle, cheeks flushed and eyes glittering, without a care for how she looked or what others might think.

      But kissing her had been a mistake. He had carefully avoided her since the wedding, and he’d reached the point where he hardly thought of her. Then, in one moment, he had dropped all his barriers and let her in again.

      However different Lilah might have seemed during the rescue of his family, however much her kisses stirred him, she would go back to being herself. Disapproving. Rigid. Cold. Just she had been yesterday when Con entered the room. As if that moment of closeness on the terrace after the wedding had never happened, Lilah had turned her usual cool, measuring gaze on him. She had refused to even sit down with him to chat. Whereas he had come running like a puppy at the sound of her voice. He hoped she had not noticed the way he had rushed into the room.

      How could the woman who had turned into flames in his arms last night manage to be all ice the rest of the time? She was a puzzle, so of course she intrigued him. But this was one conundrum that he must resist. One lock that he should not open.

      He