Seduced by a Scoundrel - By Barbara Dawson Smith Page 0,59
a dinner party, I’ll be sitting there. Every time you talk politics in the library, I’ll challenge your opinions.”
“You’re playing games. You’ll soon tire of this charade.”
“It’s only a matter of time before people begin to notice the resemblance.” A steely edge to his voice, Drake added, “It’s already happened.”
“Liar. No one has seen us together.”
“Lady Brockway knows us both. She told me I favor someone she once knew.”
For one tension-filled moment, Hailstock stared, his face as still and pale as a death mask. Then he scoffed, “And you believe that madwoman? She seldom knows her own name.”
Drake remembered her weeping, the dread she had been unable to articulate. “Did you frighten her?” he said in a harsh whisper. “Did you threaten to lock her away forever?”
Before Hailstock could reply, a movement flashed in the corridor. Someone pushed open the door.
Alicia stood there, her slender form limned by lamplight from the passageway. A frown creased her brow as she stared from Hailstock to Drake. Then she curtsied to the marquess.
“My lord, pardon me for intruding. I thought … you were someone else.”
Resenting her obeisance, Drake hooked his hand beneath her elbow and brought her to her feet. In a conversational tone, he said, “Hailstock and I were renewing our acquaintance. I was just commenting on the resemblance between him and his son.”
The marquess made a strangled sound deep in his chest.
Alicia glanced at him in confusion, then returned her gaze to Drake. “I wasn’t aware that you knew James. He’s an invalid. He seldom leaves the house.”
“So his lordship has informed me. Yet he must be the young man I saw riding in Hailstock’s carriage not a fortnight ago.”
“He does go for the occasional drive in the park,” Hailstock said rigidly. “Attended by his physician, of course.”
Drake considered making him squirm further, but reluctantly decided against it. He was skating too close to the truth, and Alicia had the intelligence to catch him. “Ah, that explains it,” he said. “A pity he doesn’t get out more often.”
Stepping toward Hailstock, Alicia touched his sleeve. “How is James?”
“Quite melancholy these days, I fear.” The marquess settled his hand over hers. “You should know, he’s asked about you. He misses your visits quite dreadfully.”
“Please convey my apologies and tell James I’ll call on him soon. If that is permissible to you, my lord.”
“Certainly, my lady. You are always welcome in my home.”
Drake clenched his jaw, fighting the fury inside him. Presumptuous noble. He touched Alicia as if he had the right to do so. He probably believed in droit du seigneur.
Drake would kill him first.
Sliding his arm around her waist, he pulled Alicia against him. He splayed his fingers over her hip in an unsubtle sign of ownership. “You will excuse us now, Hailstock. My wife requires my attentions.”
The marquess glowered balefully as Drake steered her out of the room and into the corridor.
“Why were you rude to him?” Alicia said in a chiding whisper. “I didn’t realize you even knew his lordship. Has he been to your club?”
“Yes.” But only once. To warn Drake away from her.
“Is he indebted to you, then? Is that why you two were snapping at each other like dogs?”
Seized by a dark humor, he ran his fingertip down the dainty slant of her nose. “Money is irrelevant. You see, we both want the same bone.”
She stared uncomprehendingly. Then she pursed her lips and tried to twist away. “How flattering to be compared to a bone.”
He kept a firm hold on her, securing her lithe form to his side. With lingering anger, he stated, “You’re damn beautiful, and well you know it. The crux of the matter is, my wife will not go calling on other men.”
Her steps slowed. Her glare pierced him. “Are you forbidding me to visit a friend of my family? A helpless invalid who cannot walk?”
Her logic made him feel uncomfortably like a cur. Still, he despised the notion of her straying into Hailstock’s territory. Befriending Hailstock’s legitimate son—the half-brother Drake had never known. Without thinking, he said, “You may visit James, but only in my company.”
Alicia released a huff of displeasure. “And when will that be?”
Never. “Soon. When I’m not busy at the club.”
“I’ll remember you said that.”
She gave him a hard look of concentration. A look so intent that her heel caught on the long carpet runner in the corridor, and she stumbled. As he tightened his arm to steady her, he savored the inward bend of her waist, the ripe curve