Simply Wicked. Kate Pearce

met you before, why you don’t go out into society.”

      “I doubt you frequent ton parties, my lord. Apparently you would be besieged by matchmaking mothers. How would you know if you’d met me?”

      He held her gaze. “Because you are beautiful?”

      “That is a ridiculous thing to say.”

      “Why? Because you don’t think you are?” He smiled. “Surely beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

      “Then you obviously need spectacles.”

      His smile widened. “My eyesight is considered superior, madame, and you are blushing.”

      Marguerite was saved from answering by the arrival of the tea tray. She busied herself setting things out, her mind awhirl. When had she last had such an improper and improbable conversation with a man? Never, was the answer. Lord Anthony was certainly different.

      Anthony waited as Marguerite fussed over the tea cups and saucers. He didn’t mind. It gave him the opportunity to observe her high cheekbones, huge dark eyes and cupid’s bow mouth in profile. She was as classically beautiful as her mother, their coloring as different as the sun to the moon but breathtaking all the same.

      She was petite too, her figure well suited to the higher-waisted gowns and long flowing lines of current fashion. He’d never really looked much at women before, but the purity of her beauty drew him in, made him want to kneel at her feet and worship her…

      He shook his head to clear his thoughts as she presented him with a cup of tea.

      “You do not want it?”

      “Excuse me, ma’am, I was thinking about something else. The tea is most welcome.”

      He drank it fast, almost burning his tongue, eager to return to their conversation, surprised by how interested he was in finding out more about Marguerite.

      “Are you willing to talk to me then?”

      She stared at him, her expression dubious. “As long as you don’t slobber over me.”

      He couldn’t help smiling. “I did not slobber; I’m not a dog or a horse. I merely suggested I thought you beautiful.”

      “Then don’t.”

      He set down his cup. “I’ll stop if you agree to come out with me on Friday night.”

      “Why would I want to do that?”

      “Because you are bored? Because you know you would enjoy my company?”

      She half-smiled. “Not only blind but conceited as well.”

      He shrugged, surprised by how much he enjoyed her acerbic replies. It seemed all Helene’s children had inherited their mother’s unorthodox nature. He hoped to God that Marguerite was unique enough to understand and appreciate his requirements. He sighed.

      “Can I be honest with you? I’m not just trying to avoid matchmaking mothers. I promised my brother I would turn over a new leaf, and that involves going out into society more and spending less time indulging in the excesses of the pleasure house. No offense intended to your mother, of course.”

      Marguerite nodded but didn’t speak, her attention fixed on his face.

      “We need each other. I want to reintroduce myself into polite society, and you need to enjoy yourself without feeling threatened by all the men who covet your beauty and wealth.”

      “You think that’s why I don’t go out?”

      “Isn’t it?”

      She swallowed hard. “It’s not as simple as that. After my husband died, there were many who blamed me for his death.” She winced. “I can’t believe I just told you that.”

      “He died in a duel, didn’t he?”

      “Yes, but…”

      “He was an adult?”

      “Yes…”

      “Then he made a foolish decision and paid the price for it.”

      “But he wouldn’t have fought the duel if he hadn’t married me.”

      “If he was the kind of man who chose to settle his problems in such an archaic manner, then sooner or later he would probably have found some way to kill himself. You shouldn’t hold yourself responsible for his stupidity.”

      Her chin went up. “Justin was not stupid!”

      He inclined his head. “If you say so, but why allow a little gossip over something that happened so long ago affect your whole life? The ton has probably forgotten all about you.”

      “You are very rude.”

      “No, I’m just being honest.” He smiled at her. “Isn’t it refreshing?”

      She glared at him for at least a minute before her face relaxed. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

      “May I call you Marguerite?”

      “Why?”

      “So that you can call me Anthony and we can be friends.”

      She put her cup down and stared at him. “I do not understand you at all.”

      “You should. I’m offering to be your friend—or do you have too many of them to care for another?”

      Her cheeks flushed. “Everyone needs friends.”

      Anthony held out his hand. “Then good; let’s agree to keep each other company for a while. We can brave the stares of the ton together and laugh at them behind their backs.”

      Marguerite took his hand and slowly shook it. “I will come out with you on Friday night.”

      He kissed her fingers. “Good, I’m looking forward to it already.”

      4

      Anthony allowed his valet to help him into his tight navy blue coat and settle it on his shoulders. From Brody’s muttered comments, he knew he looked well tonight and hoped Marguerite would think so too. It was strange to be dressing to go out on the town with a woman. When he wasn’t at work or at Madame Helene’s, he tended to pursue his pleasures with a group of gentlemen he’d known since his school days—younger sons of wealthy families and a few upstart cits who were happy to pay their way to be included in high society.

      “You’ll do, sir.”

      Anthony winked at Brody who scowled back at him.

      “Thank you, I’m glad I meet with your approval.”

      Brody snorted. “Now don’t come back with those fine clothes all ruined, sir.”

      “I promise I’ll take care of them. I’m going to a ball at the Sutcliffs’. I doubt I’ll get up to anything too dangerous there.”

      “You’re going to a ball, sir? A real one?”

      “Yes. Don’t look so shocked.”

      Brody smiled and displayed several missing teeth. “Well I never. Are you sure it ain’t at one of those ungodly places where men dress up as women?”

      Anthony picked up his gloves and black cloak. “No, it is a real ball with real women.”

      “Well thank the lord for that. I thought the day would never come.”

      “Obviously your prayers have been answered; may I suggest you keep praying?”

      Brody’s amusement faded. “I will, sir, don’t you ever doubt it.”

      Embarrassed by the gleam of devotion and real concern in Brody’s brown eyes, Anthony turned away. That was the problem with servants who had known you since you were a child—nothing was sacred or secret. It seemed Helene was right