Wicked Again (The Wickeds #7) - Kathleen Ayers Page 0,54

“Until then, I’m enjoying myself immensely.” She tugged at her bodice. “Nighter is very impatient, but I knew you’d be coming by.” Fluffing the lace at her neckline, she said, “He’s here, you know. I saw him as we came in. Those magnificent cheekbones are impossible to miss.”

“Who is here?” Marissa said, pretending indifference.

“Your Lord Haddon.” Adelia shook her head, the ringlets at her temples bouncing vivaciously. “You’ve taken the daughter but not him. Foolish girl.” Adelia wagged a finger. “Now he’s taken up with that little twit. He’s in Lord Stanton’s box tonight.”

Marissa’s heart thudded painfully at the words. “Lady Christina Sykes?” It wasn’t unexpected, given the way their names were linked in the gossip columns. What was surprising was how much Marissa hated hearing Adelia confirm their relationship. Up until now, Marissa had been able to pretend it was nothing more than gossip.

“And Miss Ashley. Or Miss Higgins.” Adelia laughed. “Your Lord Haddon certainly is making his way through this season’s debutantes. Though not we merry widows. I can’t seem to catch his eye though I’ve been trying. Perhaps he doesn’t care for redheads.”

A low sound came from Marissa before she could stop it.

“Well?” Adelia lowered her voice to a whisper. “You aren’t interested though why that is I can’t imagine. Haddon has that look to him. Every inch a man.” She wiggled her brows.

“Adelia—” Marissa warned.

Adelia leaned back, smug smile firmly in place. “Well, it does seem such a waste. But very well, I’ll keep my distance. Don’t be cross with me, darling.”

Marissa’s fingers flexed. She was horrified to find both hands had been curled into fists. The thought of Adelia, or anyone else, bedding Haddon was so abhorrent, she nearly slapped her closest friend. She’d always assumed Spencer had gotten his bloodthirsty tendencies from his grandfather, the ‘Old Spider.’

Apparently not.

“You were saying something about Miss Higgins?”

Adelia spared a glance in the direction of the balcony, where a disgruntled sigh filled the air from Captain Nighter. “Regina Higgins, the younger sister of the lady whose engagement to Viscount Pendleton will be announced soon. She’s developed a tendre for your handsome baron.”

“Adelia.” A masculine grunt came from the chair. “I’m bored.”

The dark outline stood, taking the shape of a towering, well-built gentleman.

Adelia giggled and went over to take his arm, propelling him forward, but Nighter’s eyes remained on Marissa, one brow quirked in question.

He was breathtakingly handsome, much more so than Marissa had expected, though Adelia had always displayed good taste in men, if not judgement. Candlelight glinted on the burnished gold of his close-cropped hair, dipping to trail across his exquisitely sculpted features. His mouth was full and wide—sensuous lips with just a hint of cruelty tipping up one end.

He was quite possibly the most beautiful man Marissa had ever seen.

It was Nighter’s eyes that tipped Marissa off and belied his angelic looks. Pale blue, like the crust of winter’s first snow, and just as devoid of any warmth. Or humanity. How old had Adelia said he was? Twenty-five? Much too young to have become so . . . soulless.

Nighter stood over Marissa, his immense, muscular form dominating the small space of the box. The full lips twisted into a charming smile, chilly gaze lingering over her bosom before lifting to take in her face.

Marissa stared down her nose at Captain Nighter. Or as much as was possible with a man of his height. She put aside her initial misgivings. Tomkin trusted the young captain, telling Marissa that Nighter was an honorable man who did dishonorable things.

Like compromising a young girl for a purse of gold.

If Nighter so much as curled a finger in Miss Higgins’s direction, the poor thing would melt into a puddle at his feet. Exactly what she was meant to do.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” The gravelly voice echoed in the box.

“Captain Nighter, may I present my dearest friend, Lady Cupps-Foster.” Adelia twirled about nervously.

Nighter didn’t bother to hide his blatant assessment of her. “My pleasure, Lady Cupps-Foster.” He took her hand politely, holding it a moment longer than necessary while Adelia fumed at his side.

“Captain Nighter. How lovely to make your acquaintance.”

Releasing Marissa’s hand, Nighter turned to Adelia. “I’ll go fetch us some more wine, shall I?” He didn’t wait for her to answer before he headed out of the box.

“Yes, Nighter,” she said to his retreating back. “Thank you.”

Marissa turned to her friend, who was still staring in the direction the captain had gone. What on earth was Adelia thinking