obvious answer came to him.
She didn’t know because no one had ever told her. Because she was surrounded by fools who found her sister’s pale fragility more appealing. People who didn’t value her wit and intelligence, let alone her alluring freckles.
She may be the most irritating woman of his acquaintance, but she was by far the most intriguing.
“You have no notion how maddening I find these freckles.” He swept his thumb across a clump of them exposed on her shoulder. “I’ve spent far too much time contemplating them, wondering if I could join them to create pictures. Imagining whether or not they cover your entire body or only certain parts of you.” He was saying too much, he recognized that. Revealing his hand before the game had even properly begun. But damnation, holding her this close to him, smelling her sweet and spicy scent that was only her, he couldn’t keep his mouth closed. Was it his imagination that she smelled of cinnamon or was it simply his imagination because that is what her hair had always reminded him of?
“You shouldn’t say such things. They make me blush,” she whispered.
“Nothing wrong with a man flirting with his wife.”
“Perhaps not, but blushing only makes my skin splotchy and uneven. It’s not very becoming.”
He cocked a brow at her. “Says who?”
“That matters not.”
“Debatable.”
“Also, I’m not your wife.”
“Soon, Freckles, very soon. But I shall spare you any further embarrassment. Besides, I do believe we’ve already caused quite the stir.”
She glanced around them, noting the faces all turned to them as if waiting for some sort of spectacle. “They’re all looking at us.”
“Indeed. But now they’re imagining our great and passionate love and not the fact that you’re a ruined woman.”
She sucked in a breath and her gaze once again became guarded. “I see.”
He hesitated, noting the stiffness with which she now held herself.
“So now everyone thinks we are desperately in love. Am I supposed to thank you for that?”
Ah. So she thought his words were just a ruse? An attempt to get a rise out of her.
For a moment, he considered correcting her, telling her exactly how much he did desire her. But hadn’t he just done that?
She clearly didn’t believe him. Or she didn’t want to.
“No, Freckles, you’re not.” He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice but wasn’t sure if he managed it. “I’m harboring no delusions that you’re pleased about this would-be union of ours. I am well aware your affections lay with another.”
Her nostrils flared. “I’m not certain what you mean. I do know it is most unpleasant to know that your soon-to-be husband is in love with one of your best friends.”
He didn’t bother correcting her assumption about him. He was far too interested in hearing what she’d have to say about Thomas. “What about knowing your wife is in love with your brother?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Thomas. You confessed your feelings, remember?”
She swallowed. “That was years ago.”
He nodded, but she made no further attempt to deny her feelings. Her heartfelt confession could have been driven from a youthful fancy, but he wasn’t so certain. “Suffice it to say, a union between us is a necessity, and we shall endeavor to make the best of it. Yes?”
She looked up at him, met his gaze full-on, and he was lost in a sea of green. So much green. Verdant and vibrant and mesmerizing.
“Yes. We shall.”
Sullivan sat at the desk in his study, sorting through the post that had accumulated. The invitations were too numerous to count and he tossed them in a pile off to the side. One envelope caught his attention, though. It was addressed directly to him with rather flourishing feminine penmanship. He flipped it over to find a wax seal with an elaborate X.
He popped it open and withdrew the letter.
Sullivan Chase, The Honorable Viscount Glenbrook,
It has recently come to my attention that I have something you might find useful. Information that you have been seeking, in fact. I know the truth about what happened the day the former Viscount Glenbrook died.
Sullivan glanced up from the letter, his heart pounding. He went back to the envelope, but found no additional identifying markers, other than the embossed wax X.
I can give you no additional details at this time, but I will extend an offer. A quid pro quo, if you will. I can give you the proof you need in exchange for a favor. I believe your new bride is affiliated with Lady Somersby’s Ladies of