Reckless - By Anne Stuart Page 0,107

don't dare die. You have no sense at all."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I can manage my life perfectly well," he said with a trace of hauteur.

“Yes, you've just demonstrated what an excellent job you're doing. I've got Evangelina pining over Simon, I've got the vicar mooning after her like an adolescent girl. At least Simon seems aware of it, unlike Lina, who doesn't seem to realize she's fallen in love."

"Lady Whitmore's in love with the parson?" Adrian said, momentarily distracted, remembering their argument. 'That should turn a few heads."

"You're no belter. Charlotte's totally besotted with you, heaven only knows why. To be sure, you're pretty enough, but Miss Spenser is far too intelligent a woman to be swayed by simple beauty."

"It's not my beauty," he said dryly. "She thinks I'm not the lecherous profligale I pretend to be."

■'I did mention she was intelligent, did I not? You, on the other hand, are a complete idiot. You're not likely to find another woman who's worth even half of what Charlotte could bring you. And you go stomping around, totally oblivious to your own feelings."

"What feelings?"

"Never mind," Montague said wearily. "Do you happen to know where the so-estimable Etienne de Giverney is right now?"

Adrian's rebellious streak flared. "Don't, I pray you, become like my parents and tell me all the reasons Etienne is a danger to my health. Surely you ore broad-minded when it comes to indulging one’s appetite. Etienne is inventive and entertaining." Which wasn't strictly true. He was tired to death of Etienne and his constant need for distraction. Distractions that led to a profound weariness of the soul. But he was damned if he was going to admit it. "In fact, I told him I didn't want him accompanying me here. He tried to insist, saying he had a fondness for you, but acquit me of being a total idiot. He despises you and you return mat regard."

"I rejoice that you see that much," Montague said.

"In truth, I've felt sorry for the man. He's lost everything, he's trapped in a foreign land, forced to exist on the limited kindness of my father, who's never liked him. If it weren't for me I doubt he'd be received anywhere."

"And yet you didn't bring him?"

Adrian paused for a moment, looking at his friend's tired eyes. "I admit it. I'm sick to death of him," he finally said. "Why do you ask?"

"He's a tall man, is he not? He knows where you and Charlotte are. And he hates you."

Adrian laughed, ignoring the uneasiness building inside him. "Don't be absurd, Monty. I've taken him everywhere, brought him into society. He owes me as much as he owes my father."

"And he hates your father. As he hates you. No one likes to be made grateful all the time. Why do you think your lovely girl decided to run off? She didn't appreciate your noble sacrifice."

"I didn't say that," Adrian protested. "I was perfectly logical. And I'll have you know I told her we should marry before I even knew she was increasing."

"You told her the two of you should marry. And you still haven't figured out why you failed so miserably?"

"She could hardly have expected a declaration of love and a promise of lifelong fidelity," he said, irritated.

"It sounds as if she did."

Adrian said nothing for a long while. "Right now I simply want to find out where she is. We can argue about the marriage later. If you know where she went then for God's sake tell me."

"I think Etienne has her."

"In heaven's name why?"

"I can think of any number of reasons. He's not your friend—the Etienne de Giverney I've known since my early days in Paris is not a friend to anyone. He gets rid of anything that stands in Ihe way of what he wants. I think he's decided that having lost his French title and lands he now wants the English titles and estates. And he's going to get them."

"Of course he wants them. He always has. I'm not a complete idiot," Adrian said.

"No, only a partial one. Though I admit, I had no idea how far he'd be likely to go or I would have warned you. You're in his way. So is your possible heir. And if I were you I wouldn't be languishing, waiting for Charlotte to return."

The feeling of dread that he'd been fighting returned full force. "You think Etienne has taken her?"

"'Haven't I said as much?" Montague spoke with a trace of