My Wicked Little Lies. Victoria Alexander

and she had learned a great deal. She’d learn to trust her instincts as well. So when Lord Lansbury said he had an honorable position for a young lady of her background, and a few casual questions around the room confirmed his identity and his credibility, she believed him.

      The next day she went to the address on the back of his calling card, a large mansion not far from her own house. A discreet plaque by the front entry declared it to be the Department of Domestic and International Affairs. She very nearly left then but she had few options as to what to do with her life and decided to hear what Lord Lansbury had to say. She met with him in the very room she had met with Max, as nondescript then as it was now. Before she knew it, she was living the life of an heiress in public all the while ferreting out secrets of those who appeared to the rest of the world to be loyal British subjects. With Celeste by her side and often with Max as well, the course of action and directions issued in writing by Sir.

      Celeste was right; it had been a grand adventure. But it was long over and her life now was all the adventure she wanted. If the price for keeping it was one more assignment for the department—so be it.

      “You’re absolutely right.” Evelyn raised her chin. “There’s no need to fret at the moment. This may come to nothing at all. Max was indeed notorious for his Plan B’s, C’s, and so forth.” She narrowed her eyes. “Annoying beast of a man.”

      “Excellent attitude.” Celeste nodded in satisfaction.

      “Now, then, due to your meeting with Sir Maxwell and your subsequent distress, we are a bit behind today.”

      “You are exceptionally competent, you know.” There was far more to being the Countess of Waterston than most people imagined. That Evelyn handled the position with ease and grace was entirely due to Celeste’s efforts.

      “Yet another role I play well.” Celeste handed her a slim file. “This is today’s correspondence, which includes a few invitations you might want to consider as well as your schedule for tomorrow. Don’t forget you have a meeting of the Ladies’ Literary Society as well as a dressmaker’s appointment.”

      Evelyn nodded. “I shall deal with all this tonight after dinner.”

      “Then I shall be off.” Celeste now resided in Evelyn’s town house, which gave her the privacy to live as she pleased. She rarely mentioned how she spent her evenings, yet another area where Evelyn did not pry. Celeste would tell her what she wished her to know. “I shall see you in the morning.”

      Celeste bade her good day and took her leave.

      Evelyn glanced at the file. Her life might seem staid and even dull to a casual observer, but it was what she had always longed for. She was part of a family with a husband who loved her and, hopefully, one day children of their own. She belonged now. She had everything she’d ever wanted and she would do whatever was necessary to keep anyone from destroying it.

      Even herself.

      Chapter 3

      Something was wrong.

      Adrian Hadley-Attwater, the Earl of Waterston, surreptitiously studied his wife over the top of the book he’d been trying to read. Evie sat at the desk on the far side of the small parlor and allegedly attended to her correspondence. Said attendance punctuated by the impatient tap of her pen and her unfocused gaze out the window and into the night. It was obvious she was distracted. He drew his brows together. His wife was never distracted. That she appeared so now was, in itself, most distracting.

      Adrian had been attempting to read for nearly an hour but instead found himself watching his wife. Certainly he’d read King Solomon’s Mines when the book had first been published several months ago, but lately he’d felt the need for a bit of adventure, even if it was fictitious. Not that life was dull or boring or tedious. On the contrary, between his duties as earl, his management of the family’s finances, business, and properties, and his seat in Parliament, life—his life—was extraordinarily full. Why, he scarcely ever had an unscheduled minute. If a certain restlessness had grown in recent months, perhaps even as long as the last year, it was no doubt to be expected. It had been two years, after all, since his brother Richard had died and Adrian had inherited a title and responsibilities he did not expect. Two years since he had married Evie, also unexpected but far more delightful. No doubt every man knew a touch of restlessness after two years of a proper and respectable life.

      Evie sighed and again tapped her pen absently on the table. His eyes narrowed slightly. Evelyn Turner Hadley-Attwater, the Countess of Waterston, never tapped her pen nor did she heave sighs of aimless frustration. This was not at all like her.

      Perhaps she, too, felt a stirring of unrest. He was not so foolish as to think that women, even those who had everything a woman could possibly want, were so different from men as to be immune to boredom. Indeed, Evie’s life before they had wed had been somewhat adventurous, what with her travel and social engagements and whatever. Not that they had ever really discussed her past or his, for that matter. He didn’t see the point. They had agreed from the first that essentially life had begun when they had met, that nothing before mattered or was at all significant. It was as accurate as it was romantic. His life was empty until she had entered it.

      She walks in beauty like the night.

      The poet’s words flashed through his mind as they had from the beginning. She was the epitome of grace and charm and intelligence, everything he’d ever wanted but hadn’t known was possible until her. The poem could have been written with his wife in mind. He’d thought the same from the first moment he’d looked into her brown eyes. The first time he’d heard her laughter across a crowded ballroom. The first time he held her hand in his. Adrian Hadley-Attwater—a bit of a rogue when it came to the fairer sex—had been lost the instant Miss Evelyn Turner’s gaze had met his and she’d smiled.

      Of cloudless climes and starry skies.

      Two years later, he was still lost.

      But was she? Tonight was the first time he’d noted any difference in her manner, but then would he have noticed? He prided himself on his powers of observation, but he was extremely busy, as was she. It was not uncommon for them to go a day or more with little contact between them save in passing at the breakfast table. Business and politics often kept him out late into the night, as did her charitable events. It scarcely mattered. He had no doubt she was as in love with him as he was with her.

      Admittedly, it was bothersome when his mind drifted on occasion to the fact that he was not the first man in her bed. But they’d married when she was twenty-seven, and she was, in most respects, a woman of sophistication. And his perfect match. He’d be the worst sort of hypocrite to condemn her for the same sort of activities he’d partaken of in his unmarried days, even if women were held to a higher standard. Still, it had been nice to discover she was not overly experienced although she was most enthusiastic. He bit back a grin. He doubted there was anything to compare to a wife with enthusiasm.

      And all that’s best of dark and bright ...

      He’d had no particular intention to marry. The world was filled with lovely women and they were most enjoyable. Besides, he had reached the age of thirty-six without so much as a broken heart. Indeed, had they never met, it was entirely possible he would never have married at all. Of course, then Richard had died and Evie had come into his life and everything had changed. Restless or not, he was a lucky man.

      Meet in her aspect and her eyes.

      Her gaze jerked toward him. “Did you say something, darling?”

      “Not a thing.” He studied her for a moment. “You seem distracted tonight, my dear. Is something wrong?”

      “No, nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “I have just fallen behind in my responses.” She heaved another sigh, even more heartfelt, as if she were trying to make a point. “I do so hate to fall behind.”

      “I know.” He chuckled but studied her closely. “Is that all?”

      “Yes,