Seduced by a Scoundrel - By Barbara Dawson Smith Page 0,48
cavalier’s hat perched on her head. Spying Alicia, she waved. “Ahoy, there. Climb aboard my pirate ship. We’re about to give chase to a Spanish galleon.”
“Dear heavens,” Alicia murmured under her breath.
Abandoning Signor Renaldo, she picked her way through the clutter, aghast to see piles of wigs and mounds of costumes, from Roman togas to medieval tunics to witch’s robes. On the dressing table, a chest full of paste jewelry glinted in the sunlight. Had Mama, in a moment of mad indulgence, ordered these theatrical props and charged them to Drake’s account?
Mrs. Philpot straightened up from the trunk she’d been rummaging through. She handed Lady Eleanor a black silk sash. “For you, my captain.”
The countess tied the sash around her slender waist. She tucked a toy dagger into the belt and planted her feet wide as if she were balancing on the deck of a ship. “Beware, ye fainthearted dastards. I am Anne Bonny, queen of the high seas.”
Humoring her, Alicia snatched up a small cask brimming with fake coins, which she presented to her mother. “A tribute of gold doubloons, O Great Pirate Queen.”
“Ye may consider yerself under my protection,” Lady Eleanor said grandly, settling down on a chair to examine her treasure.
While her mother was preoccupied, Alicia drew Mrs. Philpot beyond a stack of boxes. “Did Mama order these things?” she whispered. “I fear they will all have to be returned before Mr. Wilder finds out.”
“Nay, my lady,” Mrs. Philpot said, her green eyes sparkling as she patted Alicia’s hand. “Everything you see here is a gift.”
“A gift? From whom?”
“Why, your husband, of course. Mr. Wilder knows how your mama likes to playact, and so he purchased these costumes from a theatrical company. They are your mama’s to keep. Is it not wondrously kind of him?”
“Oh … yes.”
Her legs weak, Alicia sank down onto a footstool and regarded her mother. Lady Eleanor had abandoned the coins to explore the contents of another box. She lifted out a gaudy crimson scarf and draped it around her neck. The delight on her gentle face warmed Alicia’s heart.
Drake had done this. He had brought joy into Mama’s life.
It was difficult to believe such generosity of a man who cared only for himself and his own pleasures. Yet she could find no selfish reason for his benevolence. The more she learned about her husband, the less she understood him. He was fast becoming an enigma to her. And she resented him for making her question her assessment of his character.
Alicia lifted her chin a notch. He was the villain who had lured Gerald to the gaming tables. He had used that debt to force her into marriage. He had stolen even the roof over their heads. With cold-blooded intent, he had manipulated their lives to his own purposes.
So let him have his little secrets. She didn’t care to unravel the mystery. Better she not think of him at all.
* * *
The crimson carpet muffling his footsteps, Drake strode down the wide passageway on his way to the staircase. The pale glow of the lamps enhanced his irritable mood. He had overslept. He should have left for the club hours ago.
Of course, Fergus would handle the bank, and his well-trained staff would cater to the whims of those members who arrived early, primed for a night at hazard or faro. But Drake prided himself on overseeing the play. Keen attention to detail had given Wilder’s a reputation for luxury and refinement.
After tossing and turning for hours, he had been plagued by restless dreams. He had awakened hard and frustrated, obsessed by his wife. The Lady Alicia. How soft and touchable she’d looked this morning, tousled from sleep. She had been naked beneath her nightdress, her breasts unbound. Though she’d pretended indifference, she’d wanted him; he’d seen the desire in her eyes, heard it in the way her breath caught whenever he touched her. He burned to strip away that cool superiority, to awaken the earthy passion she kept locked inside. He wanted her lying beneath him, moaning in ecstasy.…
Ah, hell. What he needed was a long, lusty session with his mistress. A pity he had discharged her with the gift of a diamond necklace. He could have been enjoying her eagerness to please instead of suffering the scorn of a woman who regarded him as dirt beneath her aristocratic feet.
She had accused him of carrying on with Liza Yates. The thought was darkly amusing. Of course, Alicia couldn’t know the real reason why