His Wicked Seduction by Lauren Smith Page A

mind. A change in your term of endearment was certainly required. Henceforth, you are my lovely stargazer.”
    “A bit romantic, but I shan’t complain.” She turned her head back towards his, letting him steal a deep kiss before she added, “Shan’t complain at all.”
    She knew she was entirely a romantic creature. Lucien had helped make her so through those novels he gave her every Christmas. Each one was a love story.
    “Well then, guide me through the heavens.”
    Horatia reached up a hand to point to the sky. “Do you see the trio of stars in a row?” She pointed just over the city’s rooftops. “Just there?”
    “Yes,” he whispered, his breath warming her neck.
    “That is Orion’s belt. And the far northeastern star is his sword.”
    “Beautiful,” he replied. She turned herself around in his arms to agree with him, but her nose brushed against his. He wasn’t looking at the stars at all.
    “You, my lord, are not looking.”
    “I am. I see the stars in your eyes.”
    The words were too wonderful, too perfect. Horatia, starved for his love, drank them in, knowing how foolish she was to do so. She’d waited half of her life for Lucien to see her as a woman, and even if he thought her to be a high paid doxy, it didn’t matter. She could pretend he knew the truth, that he knew it was her. His arms tightened about her waist as she moved towards him for a kiss. Horatia was ready to indulge in her new guilty pleasure, Lucien’s lips, but a pair of voices nearby startled her.
    “Did you hear that?”
    “Hear what?” Lucien’s mouth grazed her neck, distracting her as they dragged along her silky skin.
    She elbowed him as the faint cold breeze in the garden carried the echo of the voices again. “That!”
    Lucien stilled against her back. “I recognize one of the voices. Come this way. Do not make a sound.” He took her hand and led her through the maze of hedges until they were much closer to those speaking. Horatia did not recognize either man but their words cut her to the bone.
    “I expect the Sheridan problem to be dealt with in a timely fashion.” The man’s voice was refined, but cold.
    Dealt with? Horatia’s mouth opened but Lucien clamped a hand over her lips.
    “Aye sir, of course,” the other man said, as though they were discussing a routine chore. “Everything is arranged, all that’s lacking is opportunity. That requires patience. Fortunately, I have no lack of that commodity.”
    “Good. I appreciate a man who understands these things. There must be no mistakes. I have a bank draft here for the first part owed to you.”
    The second man growled low. “I told you no bank drafts. Coin only. My business cannot be traced back to either of us.”
    “I assure you this is not from that kind of account.” The gentleman huffed as it became clear that was besides the point. “Very well. I see caution is also something you don’t lack. I don’t have enough in coin on me tonight. Let us meet back here tomorrow morning; the garden will be empty of tonight’s visitors and no one will have arrived for the evening’s activities that early.”
    “I shall be waiting. And the rest of the payment?”
    “Not a penny until the conditions are met, and there is dirt falling upon a grave.”

Chapter Seven
    Audrey Sheridan was alone with Lord Lonsdale at last. Lady Lonsdale, Charles’s mother, had turned in for the evening, thinking Audrey had already returned home. But Audrey had returned under the guise of forgetting a glove, and she’d beseeched Charles to let her stay a while longer. It gave her more time to accomplish her mission. Namely, becoming compromised so that she might finally be married. It was a risk however, because she had no real interest in Charles.
    She wished to marry Jonathan, the Duke of Essex’s younger half-brother. But since finding a moment alone with him was next to impossible she had to settle on a more cunning strategy. If she managed to get Charles to