Innocent in the Regency Ballroom. Christine Merrill

that we are on friendly terms, I would be most grateful.’ His fingers untwined and his hand slipped away from hers.

      ‘Most certainly. For I do wish to be on friendly terms with you in more than appearance.’ She sighed, and hoped it sounded like a longing for her books, and not for renewed contact. ‘And now, if you will excuse me? I must return to work.’

      ‘Of course.’

      Adam left the room, closing the door behind him, and moved quickly down the hall. Hell and damnation, it had been an unbearable morning. First, the invasion of his friends, before he’d had a chance to explain to Penny how things were likely to be. Although she probably suspected, what with the way Clarissa had been making a fool of herself, with no care for the fact that Tim was in the room with them.

      Penny must think him a complete fraud. She had looked around the room, at his friends and at Clarissa, and had seen it all. She’d read his character in a glance and must regret her decision.

      And he, who had always been so sure of his words, even when nothing else would go right for him, had stumbled so egregiously as to let it appear that he had married her for money. If possible, it was even worse than the truth to say such a thing. He had allowed her no dignity at all. And he had seen the mocking light in the eyes of his friends when she had flinched from his touch.

      He had been foolishly angry, at himself and at Clarissa, and had taken it out on Penny for not offering affection that he had not earned. But what had he been about, just now? Had he been trying to teach her some kind of lesson? Hopefully, it had been lost on her, if he had. He should have come back to her and taken her hand in a most friendly fashion, and tried to mend the breach he had caused. He should have assured her that although he had been guilty of grave transgressions, it was all in the past, and that he meant to be a better man.

      Instead, he had touched her hair and forgotten all. What sense was it to talk when there were soft lips so close, waiting to be kissed? And she had closed her eyes so sweetly, allowing him to observe the fine lashes and the smooth cheek and the sweetness of her breath as it mingled with his. It was a matter of inches, a bare nod of the head to bring them into contact with his own, and to slip his tongue into her mouth and kiss her until she reacted to his touch with the eagerness he expected in a wife.

      He shook his head again. Had he forgotten whom he was speaking of? If he needed to persuade his own wife to let him hold her hand, then passion-drugged nights were not likely to be in the offing.

      Not while he remained at home, at any rate. Perhaps it had been too long since last he visited his mistress. A man had urges, after all. And he was neglecting his if his own wife began to tempt him more than someone else’s. An afternoon relaxing in the arms of his paramour would clear his mind, which was clouded with misdirected lust, and make it easier to decide what to do about the impossible relationship with Clarissa and the unwelcome attraction to Penelope.

      He called for a carriage and set out to regain control of his emotions.

      As he passed out the door, he saw Penny’s manservant, who stood at the entrance to the house, wearing the Bellston livery as though it were as great an honour as a night in the stocks. He looked at Adam and bowed with as much respect as the other servants, while conveying the impression that the lady of the house was worth two dukes.

      Adam glared back at him. ‘Jem, isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes, your Grace.’ And another bow.

      Damn the man. Adam fished in his pocket and came up with a handful of banknotes and forced them into the servant’s hand. ‘I have an errand for you. Go to the bookseller’s. And buy my wife that damned copy of Homer.’

       Chapter Nine

      In the two years they had been together, Adam’s mistress, Felicity, had been a most accommodating and entertaining companion. But now, as he looked at her, he could not seem to remember why. She was beautiful, of course. There was little reason to have her otherwise. While she might not be the most enchanting conversationalist, he employed her to listen, not to talk. And so it mattered little.

      She greeted him as she always had, with a passionate kiss. Her perfect hands reached out to stroke him and to smooth his brow.

      And to search his pockets, as well. ‘What did you being me, Adam?’ Her smile was as satisfied as a cat’s.

      He smiled back. ‘And why must I have brought you anything?’ Although, of course, he had.

      ‘Because you always do, my darling. I have come to expect it. And there is the little matter of your recent marriage.’ She experimented with a pout, but her heart was not in it. ‘You could at least have told me your plans. Even though it does not change what we share, it is not pleasant to be surprised when reading The Times.’

      He nodded. ‘I am sorry. I never intended for my situation to change so suddenly, or I would have forewarned you.’

      She nodded. ‘It was love at first sight, then.’ Clearly, she did not believe it any more than he did, but it was sweet of her to give him the benefit of the doubt.

      ‘Rather. Yes.’

      ‘Then, let us celebrate.’ She kissed him again with an ardour guaranteed to arouse.

      But the irony of the situation washed over him, and it was as though he were watching the kiss from a distance, rather than being an active participant in it. To be celebrating one’s wedding in the arms of a Cyprian was probably sin enough for God to strike him dead on the spot. When their lips parted, he laid his against her ear and murmured, ‘Then you no longer wish to see your gift?’

      ‘I wish to see it, if you wish to show it to me,’ she said, the most co-operative woman in his life.

      He guided her fingers to the breast pocket of his jacket, to the package he had purchased on the way to her flat.

      She was immediately distracted and withdrew the bracelet from the jewel box in his pocket. ‘Adam, it is magnificent. The size of the diamonds. And the clarity.’ She examined it with the eye of a professional. ‘Th-thank you. It is quite the nicest thing you have ever brought me.’

      He must have chosen well, if he had made a whore stammer. ‘I am glad you appreciate it.’

      For it cost me more than all your other gifts put together. Now that I can borrow from my wife’s purse, money does not matter. And she will not care that I am here, for I have bought her a book. The truth sickened him, even as he thought it. And again, it was as though he was viewing the scene from a distance.

      His mind might be shamed by what he had done, but his body cared not, and awaited the reward forthcoming after a gift.

      And his mouth agreed with neither of them. As though he had no control over it, it announced, ‘Yes. Of course. I thought, under the circumstances, an extra expenditure was called for. For you see …’

      And his mouth proceeded, unbidden, to explain that now that he was married, their relationship had indeed changed. Since it was unlikely that he would be able to spend much time in her presence, it was hardly fair to keep her. The lavish gift was meant as a parting token. The apartment would be available for her use until such time …

      His body howled in disappointment, and called him all kinds of fool, but still the words would not stop. And with each one, his conscience felt lighter.

      His mistress was taking the whole thing annoyingly well.

      She shrugged. ‘I suspected as much. When a man gets it into his head to marry, his priorities change. And we have been together for quite some time, have we not?’

      He started. She sounded bored with his attentions. The fact that she bored him as well was small consolation.

      ‘And you have always been most considerate of me, and very generous of spirit. Should you need similar companionship in the future, I would not hesitate to recommend you as a protector.’

      It sounded almost as if she was giving him