Wicked Again (The Wickeds #7) - Kathleen Ayers Page 0,78

guilt Trent into giving him another cent, his distant relation would be sorely disappointed. He didn’t want to see the man until Pendleton walked down the aisle with Miss Higgins. It would be worth attending the wedding to ensure he did so.

As he and Jordana left the carriage and climbed the steps, his butler flung open the door in greeting.

“I see we have a guest,” Trent said, handing over his hat and gloves.

“Yes, my lord. I’ve placed Lady Pendleton in the drawing room and brought her tea.” He took Trent’s coat. “She’s been here the better part of an hour.”

Jordana was already skipping up the stairs to her room unconcerned with who was visiting when she had a stack of new books to pore over.

Lydia was here? Why in God’s name would she visit me?

“Very good.” Trent made his way to the drawing room, dreading having to make small talk with his guest. This couldn’t be a social call. He opened the door and tried to form his lips into some semblance of a polite greeting.

Lydia had positioned herself in the middle of the sofa so she would be the first thing Trent saw as he opened the door. A pot of tea, steam still curling from the lid, sat before her on a low table, along with an assortment of biscuits which he knew Lydia wouldn’t deign to touch.

Her upper lip curled slightly, pleased at the discomfort her visit caused him.

“Lady Pendleton.” He bowed to her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he stated bluntly.

“Lydia, please.” Her dark eyes were smug. “We’re family, after all.”

Trent flinched. He didn’t care for the reminder of their relationship. Going directly to the sidebar for a glass of whisky, he caught a whiff of brandy as he passed Lydia. He poured out three fingers of whisky and took a sip before turning.

“It’s a trifle early for spirits, don’t you think, Trent?”

Nothing good could come of her visit, as evidenced by her use of his given name.

“Is it? The hour doesn’t seem to have stopped you, Lydia.” He nodded at the cup of tea sitting before her. Lydia had always enjoyed her brandy. Probably more so now with Pendleton’s financial situation so precarious.

Yes, but I’ve taken care of that, haven’t I?

Lydia’s upper lip rippled into her patent sneer. He recognized it as the same one she used to turn on his wife, Anne, when they’d crossed paths in Castleton. There was a slight tremble in her gloved hand poised over the handle of the teacup she held. Lines of dissipation colored her once smooth cheeks.

Trent wished with all his heart he’d never accepted a farthing from Lydia’s husband.

“Is there something I can help you with, Lydia?” The longer she stayed in his house, the more his irritation grew. “I’m sure you’re not here merely to avail yourself of tea and pleasant conversation. I’d appreciate it if you’d get to the point.”

“Your manners have undergone a transformation, Trent. But then, considering the company you’ve been keeping, it’s no wonder. I understand you’ve taken up with Marissa Tremaine.” Lydia’s face grew ugly. “Isn’t she a little too long in the tooth for you? My word, she’s nearly the same age as I am.”

Trent swished the whisky around in his mouth, letting the taste soak into his gums. Bitch. “Is there a point to this discussion? My personal life is truly none of your concern.”

“May I be direct?” Her fingers fluttered delicately over the teacup.

“Please do. I’d like this visit to be as short as possible,” Trent replied smoothly. Would Pendleton miss Lydia if Trent lost his temper and just snapped her neck? He thought not.

“My, how things have changed. You used to be much more cordial. But you wanted money then, which we gave you.”

Trent drained the remainder of his glass. “That was a long time ago.”

“Marissa Tremaine. I find it easier to call her by the name she was born with than the multitude of names she’s carried since then. I’m almost embarrassed for you, Trent. You’ve made such a fool out of yourself over her in public. All of London is twittering about the scandal brewing. Pretending she was your daughter’s chaperone.” Lydia shook her head. “I fear Lord Stanton will never give you his daughter now, not when you’ve made such an ass out of yourself.”

“Fortunate, because I never had any intention of offering for her.” He strolled back to the sideboard. “I’d ask if you’d like some brandy,