Wicked Again (The Wickeds #7) - Kathleen Ayers Page 0,81

him, imbuing his entire being. She made him whole even though Trent had never thought his soul lacking in any way. Looking down into her eyes, glowing like the rarest sapphires, he saw the hint of the hardness glittering in the depths of blue. He was not so foolish to think Marissa was not her father’s daughter. Trent was attracted to the ruthless determination he sensed inside her as much as the generous and giving heart beating in her chest.

Trent just hadn’t thought he’d witness her bloodthirsty nature firsthand.

Despite Lydia’s depiction of Marissa as a deranged woman whose grief over her late husband had unhinged her, Trent knew the truth was far more complicated. He’d heard the stories of how Marissa mourned, wearing black for years, suffering the rumors that Reggie had run off with a gypsy or fled to America with his mistress. But there were two sides to every story. Sometimes three. He’d thought to write to Morwick, Marissa’s son, for the truth. But getting a letter to Morwick would take far too long. So he went to the only other person in London who might be able to give him the truth.

Pendleton.

Christ, he wished he hadn’t.

“Roasted chicken,” Marissa announced with a smile. “A favorite of yours, I think.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Jordana told you, I suppose?” None of what Pendleton had confessed to Trent changed his feelings for Marissa. He was pleased she’d worn her hair loose tonight, streaming down her back, the streaks of silver shining in the firelight. Something else Marissa had done for him. No more visiting Mr. Coventry for bottles of hair dye.

It was a subtle, yet firm announcement of her commitment to him.

“Possibly,” she said. Standing on her tiptoes, Marissa wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth with enthusiasm. There was no overt seduction in her manner, only joy at his presence.

“You missed me, I think,” he whispered against her cheek, hugging her tightly to his chest.

“I did.” Her fingers trailed down his jaw. “Very much, though I saw you only two days ago.” A light blush infused her cheeks at having to admit how much she longed for him, as he did for her.

Trent’s chest squeezed painfully as he looked down into her lovely features, still struggling to accept the truth of Marissa.

Pendleton had given up everything when Trent had appeared on his doorstep, with little reluctance. It was almost as if the burden was too much for him to carry any longer. Much of the viscount’s usual smug behavior had been wiped from his features as he’d relayed his tale.

Trent had been so hoping the death of Marissa’s late husband had been accidental.

The previous Lord Pendleton, John, had indeed murdered his best friend in cold blood. While John had pulled the trigger, it had been Lydia who’d planned everything, right down to the cave where John would hide the body. It had also been Lydia who’d had the foresight to spread the rumors Reggie had run off with another woman so the search for him would eventually end.

Lydia had done all of that while visiting Marissa daily to offer her comfort. Holding Marissa’s hand while Marissa had wept on her shoulder.

Evil, spiteful bitch.

A fierce, almost violent wave of protectiveness for Marissa rolled over him.

My poor love.

Trent tucked a dark curl of Marissa’s hair behind one ear. “I missed you as well. I adore roasted chicken. And you.”

The survey was real, not a fake, the relief at finally telling the truth evident on Pendleton’s face. Lydia, in one of her brandy-fueled stupors, had told her son everything, but by then, Pendleton was already on his way up the political ladder and he’d grown accustomed to the wealth the Blue John mine provided to his family. Still, the guilt had eaten away at him. Pendleton was stealing from his neighbor and had been for years. His parents were murderers.

Lydia insisted her son keep his mouth shut. Opening it would only result in the loss of his brilliant career.

“I did warn my mother, Haddon. Marissa surely knew the truth after her husband’s remains were discovered. Her entire family would be coming for ours. I told Mother I feared I would awake one night to find myself being strangled by Kelso or worse, the Duke of Dunbar. I have connections at the Ministry. I know what both of those gentlemen are capable of. The things they’ve done. Marissa wasn’t going to allow such an insult to