in the Seine.
Gad, he should not even be here.
He glanced around the crowded room until he spotted her walking with Lady Juliette. He should certainly not chance making eye contact with her, but God help him, he couldn’t seem to look away. The lady was lovely and had exquisite taste—both traits Nick admired even in his enemies.
“Glad to see you could finally join us.” The Duc de Béarn stepped up next to Nick, his ink black hair and dark eyes contrasting starkly with Nick’s angelic features. Both were now leisurely watching the others of their class choose partners for a country-dance.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Nick smiled genuinely, then continued with a knit brow. “Although, if I remember correctly, you threatened to pitch my finest cravats and boots in a heap and set them aflame in full view of all of Paris if I somehow managed to overlook this affair. You said it was important.”
“It is. You will thank me one day.”
“I doubt it,” Nick replied frankly. “I had to kill to arrive at a decent hour. Though, better him than you, should you feel compelled to ruin my boots.” He smiled, but the truth in his jest sat uneasily with him. Unlike many of his fellow agents, he did not enjoy killing. Nor did he enjoy failing.
Béarn smiled, glancing toward the hostess. “Just look at her.”
Nick allowed his gaze to drift back to Lady Dumonte, making a full sweep of her figure. “May I assume, Your Grace, it is Lady Dumonte’s ambition and persistence you are admiring rather than her grace and beauty?”
The duke chuckled and sipped his drink. “Assume what you please.”
With an appreciative grunt, Nick forced himself to look away. If she knew how to show an ounce of warmth, the woman would be devastating. Thankfully, she was reputed for two things: the ice that ran in her veins and her indomitable nature, neither of which Nick found overly attractive.
“If it is the latter, every other man in this room already is. If it is the former, I agree with you. She could become a nun and go straight to Hades if she so chose.”
“If anyone could do such a thing, it would be Lady Dumonte,” Béarn agreed.
“A bit lonely, though, even for the sake of spite. Living as a nun, knowing the most handsome gentlemen—us—will never be known to her. Intimately, I mean.” Nick shook his head with a wicked grin, “I refuse to believe anyone would have the resolve.”
Béarn smiled. “You are one of the finest men I know, Pembridge, but if you are a gentleman, I am a saint.”
“In that case, Your Grace, I insist you find better company immediately,” Nick said. “Truthfully, I don’t give a fig what the woman does as long as she leaves us harmless cads to ravish the maidens in peace. It is becoming increasingly arduous for a rake to keep up an honestly wicked reputation in Paris, of all places. What a tangle.”
“All of Paris loves her; otherwise, they would never allow such a thing. Anyway, when was the last time you ravished anyone, Pembridge?” Béarn asked with one dark brow raised. “I have not seen you with any feminine distraction in weeks. Even whilst you are far from Lady Dumonte’s sight.”
“A gentleman never tells.”
Béarn gestured to Nick with his glass. “Yes, but you are no gentleman.”
“Then I must be a scoundrel, and you cannot trust a word I say.”
“I shan’t get a straight answer from you, shall I?” Béarn asked with a side-glance.
“Afraid not, old chap,” Nick answered with a grin.
“I shall assume you are finally marrying, then,” Béarn said casually as he sipped his drink.
“That’s a depressing subject to bring up.” Nick’s brow knit as he shuddered. Then he brightened. “But since you did bring it up, when are you marrying that Juliette girl?”
“I shall marry Lady Dumonte if I remarry at all. Not only is she very dear to me, but our marriage would be an advantageous match, both politically and socially.”
“But you love Juliette and have these many years. All the years I have known you, at least. You wouldn’t let a little thing like the scandal of marrying an orphan girl without family or dowry and the resulting death of your political career get in the way of eternal happiness, now would you?” Nick asked innocently. “You ought to at least tell her how you feel, you know. I suspect she believes you in love with Lady Dumonte. She smiles brighter when