care about Hawkins.”
“Only inasmuch as I care that he lives out his life in deserved misery, the toad,” Sesily said before turning to Lily. “Now I understand the dog dress, though. Inspired, really. Though you should know that dress does nothing to mar your beauty.”
Before Lily could speak, the Marchioness of Eversley spoke. “Don’t mind Sesily, Miss Hargrove; she is unable to keep herself from saying whatever pops into her head.”
“Posh. No one has time for circumspection.” Sesily waved a hand in the air before adding, “Derek Hawkins bears the two character traits unacceptable in a man: insufferability and a desperation to be admired by all. I might be willing to overlook one of them, but both—” She finished the sentence with an entirely unladylike sound.
“And he’s terrible with money,” Seleste said.
“The richest poor man in Britain,” Sesily agreed. “As though he’s a hole in his pocket. The coin spills to the ground as fast as it goes in.” She looked to Lily. “It is too bad he is so damn talented, isn’t it? We’re all blinded by his skill.”
Lily was so taken aback by Sesily Talbot’s forthrightness that it took her a moment to find words, until Lady Eversley—widely known as the quietest and kindest of the sisters—found them for her. “Sesily, you’ve shocked her,” the marchioness admonished before looking to Lily. “You needn’t answer her. She’s utterly inappropriate when she wishes to be.”
“I didn’t wish to be inappropriate!”
“To be fair, Sesily is inappropriate when she doesn’t wish to be as well,” Seline pointed out.
The marchioness laughed and took Lily’s hands. “I am very happy you’ve chosen to join us tonight. When King told me that the duke wanted to launch your season here, I confess, I was more than a little intrigued.” Her gaze flickered to the hound and hare in Lily’s coif. “Now, even more, because of your particular . . . flair.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Lily said, still rather overwhelmed by the sisters. “But it is not a season. Not really.”
The marchioness shook her head. “Call me Sophie. After all, my husband and your duke are too close for my lady.”
Lily’s gaze flew over Sophie’s shoulder to the entrance to the ballroom, where Alec and the marquess had materialized, as though summoned by the words. She took in the massive Scot in his ill-fitting coat and trousers, and somehow still more commanding than the rest of the room. Lily’s heart pounded—in fury, no doubt, at his utterly inexcusable behavior. “He’s not my duke.”
“Ding dong,” Sesily said softly at her shoulder, her gaze lingering on Alec. “Can he be mine, then? He’s in need of a tailor, but I can overlook it for the evening.”
No.
Lily had no idea where the instant dislike for the idea of this beautiful, bold woman and Alec together came from, but she didn’t like it. Why would she care whom Alec chose to be his duchess?
She didn’t.
Not at all.
“He’d be lucky to have you as queen of his drafty Scottish castle,” she said, pushing the dislike away.
Sesily’s nose wrinkled. “I like the sound of a dukedom and a castle, but who wants to live in Scotland? It is deadly dull.”
“That’s probably for the best, Ses,” Seline teased. “I imagine King would heartily warn his friend away from the likes of you.”
“Nonsense,” Sesily says. “ ’Tis I who should be warned away from him—after all, everyone’s heard of the Scottish Brute’s conquests.” She leaned into Lily, “Not that anyone would ever call him such to his face. But is it true what they say? Is he terribly sexual?”
Lily’s eyes went wide. What?
Was that what they said about him?
And then the name echoed through her—The Scottish Brute—she loathed that moniker. Loathed the idea that it was whispered behind his back. Loathed the idea that he was whispered about, at all.
No wonder he hated London; in that moment, she did, as well.
She couldn’t help herself from looking at him, her gaze lingering on his perfect mouth for a long moment, the word sexual whirling through her mind, before she remembered that she disliked him. “I wouldn’t know,” she said.
“Hmm. Probably not, then,” Sesily smirked.
“Good God, Sesily. Stop it,” Seline said.
“It’s important to know a thing like that before one leaps into the fray!”
“Ugh. You should marry him. Polite society would no doubt be thrilled to be rid of you.”
Sesily turned to Lily, a twinkle in her eye. “Don’t listen to them. Society can’t get enough of me.”
“No accounting for taste,” Seleste teased, and the entire