My Wicked Little Lies. Victoria Alexander

be used to easily open locks. Evelyn had once had a similar tool of her own but had tossed it away with the rest of her past. Or so she’d thought. Amazing as well that a man who had a lock on every drawer wouldn’t go to some effort to make them a bit more complicated. She snorted with disdain. Unless she was sorely mistaken, this would be fairly easy.

      It was logical to assume that the file, if indeed it was here, would not be in the center drawer or the top two on either side as they were not as deep as the others. Still, one never knew. She knelt before the desk, inserted the pick into the center drawer keyhole, and maneuvered it until it caught on the mechanism. One careful turn and the lock clicked. She opened the drawer and quickly looked at the contents.

      Dunwell was surprisingly tidy and there was nothing here save neatly arranged pen nibs, a sharpening knife, an ivory page cutter, and his lordship’s crested stationery. She’d thought, on occasions similar to this in the past, that one could learn a great deal about a man from looking in his private spaces. Dunwell was organized, precise. Anything he undertook would be well thought out. This was not the drawer of a man of impulse.

      Regardless of the nobility of the purpose, there was something unseemly about perusing a man’s private belongings. One never knew what sorts of things a man might wish to keep locked away from prying eyes. Why, even Adrian kept his desk drawers locked although she was certain he would show her their contents should she ever ask. Not that she cared to. Adrian had nothing to hide. Her husband was very much an open book.

      She made certain everything was exactly as she had found it, closed the drawer, locked it, then started on the drawers to the right. Given that Dunwell favored his right hand, he might well be inclined to store papers of importance on that side. But by the time she reached the bottom drawer, she had not found the file nor had she seen anything out of the ordinary whatsoever. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but Lord Dunwell was apparently far duller than she had imagined.

      She grit her teeth with annoyance. There were still four drawers left but an instinct she thought was long dead told her this was a waste of time. She quickly worked her way through the remaining drawers. Nothing. Either the file was hidden elsewhere in the house or Max’s information was wrong. Not that he had seemed overly confident about it in the first place. She closed the last drawer and relocked it. Still, the fact that he had sent her on this wild-goose chase at all with what was obviously the flimsiest of information spoke to his level of concern about the situation. She would send word to him at once. There was no more she could do here tonight.

      The library door opened and she froze. Certainly, she was concealed from sight behind the desk for the moment, but it would take this intruder no more than a few steps into the room to discover her.

      “What are you doing here?”

      Her heart sank. She would know her husband’s voice anywhere. She drew a deep breath and started to rise.

      “Why, I followed you, of course.”

      Again, Evelyn froze. Who in the name of all that’s holy was that? Quietly she shifted to allow her to peer around the edge of the desk. She bit back a gasp.

      Adrian studied Lady Dunwell coolly. “And why would you do that?”

      “Why wouldn’t I?” She smiled in a seductive manner and stepped closer to him. Evelyn’s jaw clenched. “It’s been a very long time since we have had a moment alone together.”

      “Has it?” Adrian shrugged. “I hadn’t noticed.”

      Bravo, Adrian! Excellent!

      “Come now, Adrian, surely you haven’t forgotten.” Lady Dunwell reached a long, pointed finger and lightly ran it down the front of Adrian’s shirt. Evelyn clapped her fist over her mouth to prevent a scream of indignation. The hussy!

      “I haven’t forgotten anything,” he said smoothly. “But as I recall, there was little to remember.”

      “Adrian!” Lady Dunwell pouted. “You wound me to the quick. I quite value the times we spent together. I have always thought it a great pity there weren’t more.” She heaved a heartfelt sigh. “There could have been so much more. I was a lonely widow and you were dashing and handsome ...” She cast him a look of pure invitation. “You still are.”

      Good Lord!

      “How kind of you to say.”

      Rubbish. It wasn’t the least bit kind. The woman is after you, dear husband.

      “Surely you remember? I can be exceptionally kind.”

      What is there to remember? And how kind was she? Kind was not at all what she had in mind now.

      “No doubt your husband thinks so.”

      Excellent, Adrian. Remind her that she has a husband.

      “Goodness, Adrian, Lionel married me for my fortune and my family connections. I know that and he knows I know it. As for the rest of marriage, well ...” She shrugged. “My husband and I, oh, we pursue our own interests, shall we say.”

      “How very ... modern of you both.”

      Modern? That was not the word Evelyn would use.

      “But I fear I am somewhat more traditional,” he continued. “I much prefer that my wife and I pursue mutual interests.”

      “For now.” She smiled in a wicked manner.

      It was all Evelyn could do to keep from revealing herself, vaulting over the desk, and strangling the woman with her bare hands.

      “For always,” he said firmly.

      Evelyn’s heart fluttered. Her husband was as perfect a man as one could hope to find.

      “Although, perhaps ...” Lady Dunwell studied him for a moment.

      He raised a brow. “Perhaps what?”

      “Perhaps I am already too late. Perhaps you are here awaiting an interest of your own.”

      Indignation washed through Evelyn. Not Adrian. Still, what was he doing here?

      He laughed.

      And why wasn’t he denying it?

      “I see.” Lady Dunwell cast him a slow, provocative smile. “Then there is hope for me yet. I shall leave you to your interests.” She moved to the door, then glanced at him over her shoulder. “For now.” She took her leave, shutting the door behind her.

      “Now, back to my original question.” Adrian looked directly at Evie, and she resisted the urge to shrink back behind the desk and pretend she wasn’t there. “What are you doing here?”

      “I might ask you the same thing.” She rose to her feet in as dignified a manner as she could manage. Wasn’t it said that attack was the best form of defense?

      His eyes narrowed. “I was looking for you.”

      “And just happened to find Lady Dunwell in the process?” she asked in a lofty manner.

      “She found me.”

      “So it would appear. Appearances, however ...” She shrugged.

      He glared. “There is nothing between Lady Dunwell and myself.”

      “You led me to believe there had never been anything between you and that creature in the past save a futile attempt on her part to ensnare you in marriage.”

      “There wasn’t,” he said sharply, then paused. “Not really. Nothing of any significance anyway. Not on my part.”

      “And yet you never said a word.”

      “Why on earth would any man in his right mind confess his previous indiscretions to his wife?”

      “Ah-hah!” She aimed a pointed figure at him. “Then you did lie to me!”

      “I most certainly did not,” he said staunchly. “It was at worst a ... a lie of omission.”