If He's Wicked. Hannah Howell

also shows us who is the weakest link.”

      “Are you surprised?”

      “No. If naught else, Beatrice is supremely arrogant. Worse, she is impulsive, can act and speak without thought. My uncle plans his every move and word. Beatrice just charges ahead. She also believes her beauty will save her from any consequences no matter how vile the crime.

      “I admit that I am still shocked by what she tried to do to our son.” He held up his hand to silence what Edgar began to say. “Not that she would deny me an heir. Even in my blindness, I realized she was not pleased when she got with child, but I thought she was afraid. Too many women die in childbirth. I also knew she was vain and undoubtedly feared having children might tarnish her beauty. What I still find so difficult to understand is how any woman could set her child out to die. That is what she did when she had Anthony placed in the arms of a dying woman in an isolated cottage on the moors.”

      “I was not as blinded as you were, but even I find that difficult to understand. Children are cast aside, but usually by the poor, and often because they simply cannot afford another mouth to feed. That certainly was not Beatrice’s concern. God’s tears, if she did not want a child because she did not like children, she still had no reason to do it. She could have handed the boy over to a nurse and never looked back. To me, it is simply more proof that she and Arthur have planned your death from the start. Therefore, you could have no heirs.” He frowned. “Are you certain there were no other attempts upon your life before the ones of this last year?”

      Julian thought back over his short marriage and then grimaced. “I once wondered if Beatrice’s many attempts to set me upon the dueling field were actually attempts to get me killed. She had an unerring skill for picking men who were deadly upon the dueling field and, often, very eager to duel. After that first duel, I made it clear that I would fight no more over her long-lost honor, and that may have ruined a plan to have me killed in a way that raised no questions.”

      “A good plan. It might have worked.”

      A soft rap on the door ended the conversation. Julian was stunned when Chloe stepped into the room. Over the last week he had considered her everything from adorable to pretty. Dressed in an elegant, dark blue silk gown, her hair done in the latest style, she was beautiful. As he pulled free of his shock, he found himself pleased that the muslin tucked into the low neckline of the gown was very modest. He should not care how much of herself she displayed to others, but he did. Neither did he like the idea of her going out for an evening without him at her side. It was glaringly obvious that he was utterly failing in all his attempts to kill his attraction to her.

      To his surprise, he found himself a little dismayed by this more stylish and fashionable Chloe. He preferred the one who dressed in comfortable, modest muslins and cottons, her hair only partly tamed. Then he saw her grimace and start to reach for her hair.

      “Oh, no, you will not go scratching and ruin all Maude’s hard work,” said Edgar as he leapt from his seat and rushed to her side. “Try to keep this hair just as it is for at least the start of the evening.”

      Chloe’s sigh was that of a martyr and Julian grinned. Here was the Chloe he recognized. “Have trouble keeping it tamed, do you?”

      “I challenge you men to try and smile through the torture of having your hair twisted and pinned up into an unnatural lump,” she said and then looked at Edgar. “Leo and I are ready to leave, but we can wait if you need more time to speak to Julian.”

      “No. Said all I needed to,” replied Edgar.

      Julian wished them both a good evening and then sighed when they were gone. He hated being stuck in a bed while others hunted down his enemies. Thinking of how Chloe would soon be smiling and dancing with men eager to savor her charms only soured his mood more. He had no right to feel that way as he was still a married man, but that stern reminder did not kill the feeling.

      “Only a week to wait,” he told himself. “One more week and I can join in this game.” And maybe even steal a dance with Chloe, he thought with a faint smile as he closed his eyes.

      Chloe stood behind a set of heavy drapes in a tiny library. The Paxtons were obviously not the bookish sort, she mused as she vainly tried to scratch an itch at her waist. Unfortunately, the heavy material of the dress and the corset she wore beneath it were making it impossible. She truly hated coming to these affairs, she decided. If she heard one more man speak of the great hunt he had attended or one more woman slander another with honey-sweet words, she would scream. The only thing that kept her from doing so was the knowledge that it would hurt Leo in many ways. It would also make it difficult for her to hostess his occasional dinners and gatherings, and she liked doing that. His friends did not treat her as if she were some lack-witted doll whose only purpose upon this earth was to smile and look pretty. Sadly, none of those people had attended this gathering, nor had any of her relatives besides Leo.

      Making herself comfortable on the narrow bench beneath the window, Chloe savored the cool air the heavy curtains blocked from the room. Her thoughts immediately turned to Julian and a smile curved her lips when she recalled how he had looked at her tonight. That one hot look from his beautiful green eyes had given her the confidence needed to face this interminable evening.

      He was far too attractive for any woman’s peace of mind, she decided. Chloe had to admit that it was not just his fine looks that stirred something strong and hot within her, however. She had the sinking feeling she was coming to care for the man, and that way lurked disaster. He was a married man, and the fact that his wife was trying to kill him, had betrayed him again and again, and that the marriage was nothing but names on a paper, did not change that. He was also far above the touch of a penniless, cast-off daughter of a knight. She suspected the man held some very poor opinions of women, too. Unfair, but understandable. She suspected that if a man had done to her what Beatrice had done to him, she, too, would find it hard to trust any man again. Sad to say, that knowledge and all the good sense she could muster did not halt what appeared to be a rapidly growing infatuation.

      The sound of a door opening and shutting startled Chloe out of her thoughts. Her moment of solitude was over. Even as she started to get up, two men began to speak and she went very still. The name mentioned by one of the men was enough to make her sit back down and pray that she would remain unseen.

      “You ask too much, Arthur,” said a man with a low, trembling voice.

      “Rubbish. I but ask you to do a small favor for a friend, Conrad.”

      “You are no friend of mine.”

      “No? Is it not a true measure of friendship to keep a man’s secrets? And I do keep your secrets, Conrad. Or do you no longer care if that sweet girl you are betrothed to finds out about your lover? How is young George, by the way?”

      “Bastard.”

      “Tsk. Name-calling is so beneath you.”

      “What you are asking me to do could get me hanged.”

      “So could what you are doing with young George.”

      There was a long heavy silence, broken only by the harsh breathing of one of the men. Chloe assumed it was Conrad. Arthur’s voice had remained cool throughout the exchange. She wished they would say exactly what was going to be done.

      “This is the last thing I will do for you, Arthur. The very last.”

      A moment later, the door slammed. Chloe stood up, intending to step out of her hiding place, when she realized she had only heard one set of footsteps. A chill went through her. She was alone in a room with Arthur Kenwood, a man who thought nothing of murdering his own nephew, even his own great-nephew. Chloe had no doubt that she would be in danger if he found out she had overheard him and Conrad. She was eyeing the window to see if she could easily, and silently, open it and run when someone else entered the room.

      “I just saw that fool Conrad. Did he agree to help us?”

      This had to be Beatrice, Chloe thought. She fought the temptation to ease open the drapes just enough to peek out at the woman. She