Winter's Woman (The Wicked Winters #9) - Scarlett Scott Page 0,2
be your Christian name.”
Ordinarily, he didn’t give a bean when he irritated someone. But there was something about nettling the condescending Lady Evangeline that pleased him. And he hadn’t been pleased in…
A long damned time.
“Says who?” he retorted.
She stared at him, aghast.
That was what he thought. Not even a smart retort out of milady’s—
“Says Lady Evangeline Saltisford,” she said, her voice dripping with ice. “If I am to suffer this nonsensical guard nonsense, I must insist I cannot refer to you as Devil. It feels far too damning.”
Of course it did. That was the point. Enemies tended to think twice about attacking a man named Devil. Theodore did not have the same effect. He would eat his cravat before he would tell her his true name.
He shrugged. “Devil or nothing.”
“Mr. Nothing is a strange name indeed, but if that is truly what you wish…”
Lady Adele sighed loudly. “Evie, you are behaving abominably.”
At last, a voice of reason. That twin sister of hers was right shrewish.
Lady Evangeline’s attention returned to her sister. “I am behaving poorly? Heavens, Addy. Ever since you secretly married Mr. Winter, you are acting as if there are goblins hiding behind every corner, waiting to attack us all.”
“Suttons are goblins,” Devil rumbled, surprising himself by speaking again. “Look like them, too.”
Two sets of dark eyes flew to him. He ought to have held his sodding tongue. The chair seemed to grow smaller by the minute.
“Who are Suttons?” Lady Evangeline asked, her gaze never wavering from his this time.
She had addressed him. Without a cutting or condescending edge to her tone.
“Enemies of the Winters,” he said simply.
Her lips—full and pink and luscious-looking as a berry tart—compressed. “But I am not a Winter.”
“Someone shot at you,” he pointed out.
The obvious. He still wasn’t convinced it had been Suttons, however. Shooting at plump pigeons wasn’t their sport. They liked dog and cock fights, chopping off fingers, and setting buildings on fire. The small things.
“No one shot at me! I was on a drive in the park with my betrothed.” Her tone rose, veering toward melodrama as she turned back to her sister, addressing her once more. “I deeply regret Lord Denton ever mentioned it, as that single bullet has caused me no end of trouble.”
Lord Denton. Devil’s lip curled. Of course she would be marrying a soft-palmed twat like Denton who strutted about with a quizzing glass and a cravat tied up to his bloody eyebrows. The bastard had probably shat in his breeches when the shot flew by his curricle.
“He did no such thing!” Lady Evangeline was pinning him with an accusing glare, her face pale. “How dare you, sir? In the presence of ladies…”
Well, fuck.
Had he said that aloud? All of it? Hell of a thing. He had not spoken this much since…
Cora.
Double fuck.
A dark wave of memories hit him in the gut like a fist. It was time to extract himself from this cursed chair and go. He would find his brother and tell Dom this particular assignment was not for him. Loyalty and brotherly devotion had a limit. This was it. Lady Evangeline Saltisford could take her airs and her golden beauty and marry her silly fop and have his heir and spare and then cry into her embroidered handkerchief when she discovered he had a mistress.
He stood, narrowly hauling himself from betwixt the polished arms of the mahogany chair of death, and bowed. Devil knew he ought to say something. Likely an apology. But in the end, he couldn’t be bothered. He stalked from the drawing room with Lady Evangeline Saltisford’s indignation trailing after him.
Along with her scent.
She smelled like a damned fruit, sweet and ripe.
Curse her.
Chapter Two
“I know you are hopelessly in love with your husband, Addy, but this farce cannot continue.”
Evie paused in practicing the delivery of her speech to the cheval glass in her chamber, studying her reflection. Did she look angry? That would never do. She knew her twin. Addy did not like strife. Evie would need to be calm. Cool. Soft, even.
She took a deep breath and then made another attempt.
“After the improper manner in which he referred to Lord Denton yesterday, you cannot possibly expect me to suffer Mr. Winter’s presence.”
No.
That would not do either. Addy was quite protective of her new husband’s family. Because her sister possessed a heart of gold, it did not matter to Addy that the branch of the Winter family she had married into was scandalous. That their accents and lack of proper manners