taken in his firm grasp as he propelled her away from the door, down the hall. She didn't struggle—it was too undignified.
Besides, this proper vicar wasn't going to hurt her.
He took her all the way to the end of the wing, where a small salon waited. There were tall doors onto the terrace that ran the width of the house, and without asking her to leave, he pushed one open, ushering her out into the cool morning air and closing the door behind them. "I don't think we need anyone eavesdropping on our conversation, do you?" he said
"I wasn't aware that we had anything to discuss that the servants would find all that fascinating,"
she replied.
"We have..." He paused, staring at her mouth. Which was exactly what she'd wanted him lo do.
"Why do you muck up your face with all that paint?" he said.
She laughed, the sound brittle. "Next you're going to tell me I'm too pretty a girl to have to resort to artifice."
"No," he said, his voice measured. "I'm not about to tell you how pretty you are at all. You don't need my empty compliments."
"Empty?" she echoed, mocking.
"And you're hardly a girl." It only silenced her a moment. "Oh, louche," she said with a laugh. "Bui hardly Christian of you,
"Why is it unchristian to speak the truth? You must be nearing thirty—"
"I'm twenty-eight," she snapped, unable to help herself.
She didn't like the faint glint in his eyes. He-d managed to pique her vanity after all.
"I beg pardon," he murmured. "Still, twenty-eight is hardly a girl..."
"Point taken," she said irritably. "I'm not a girl. What are we going to argue about?"
"Apart from your age? Most likely everything under the sun," he said, his voice calm. "But I think we're agreed on at least one thing, and that is our concern for Montague."
"Agreed," she said after a moment, controlling her
"I want the best for him."
"As one of his closest friends I want the same. Why do ministers take so blasted long to get to the point? Say what you want to say so I can go sit with him.”
"That's the point. I don't think you should sit with him, or be anywhere near him. I believe the best thing you could do for Thomas is to go out to that wretched playground he built, get your fellow debauchees together and leave this place. Leave him to die in peace."
She laughed wilhout humor. "You think that's what he wants? It was his idea to hold the Revels here. Monty takes joy and pride in his spectacular abilities as a host, even in absentia. He's hired extra chefs, extra servants to handle the party, and it's taking place well out of sight. If the festivities were to be cut short then the guests would descend on Hensley Court to change clothes, retrieve their carriages, all with a great deal of grumbling, which would distress Monty no end. I’ve more days and their departure will be normal. Everyone will leave, sated and cheerful, and Monty's final social occasion will be deemed a triumph.”
“Three days of whoring and degeneracy is a social triumph?"
“It's too late to change him, Mr. Pagett. You aren't going to save his soul, induce him to renounce his... his preferences at this late date. And why bother— he's so ill he has no choice but to be celibate."
"You underestimate Montague's stamina," he said dryly. "I've known him all my life—even on his deathbed he'll be pinching the footmen. As for changing him—I don't really care who he wants to fornicate with. It's his soul that concerns me. And it's never too late for that."
Lina eyed him curiously. "Wouldn't you say his desire for other men makes him irredeemable?"
"That's between Thomas and his lord."
"Isn't his soul between Monty and his God as well?"
He stared down at her for a long moment. A breeze had come up, and one by one the candles went out, leaving them in the pinky-blue light of early dawn as the sun rose over the spires of the ruined abbey. "Talking with you is like arguing with the devil."
She found she could laugh. "Oh, I don't think so. Doesn't conversation with Satan involve temptation?" She moved closer, looking up at him. She'd discovered thai men liked it when she moved close and looked up from beneath her long lashes. It made them feel powerful, protective, and because she was manipulating the situation it made her feel even stronger. At least, most of the time.
It wasn't that she