One Wicked Night by Shelley Bradley Page A

discreetly.
    “Falling in love, Devon? If so, she should definitely be off your list of eligible ladies.”
    “Why?” Lucien snapped.
    Looking confused at his tone, Anne replied, “She’s the Duchess of Warrington.”
    Lucien felt his stomach execute a painful plunge before it crashed to the ground. A simultaneous wave of dizziness and nausea spiked through him. The blood left his face.
    Married. And a virgin? What the hell had he done? What had she let him do?
    Lucien was vaguely aware of Niles’s stunned stare, but could not return it.
    “How on earth did she . . .was she . . .?” Niles trailed off in confusion.
    “I don’t know,” was all Lucien could answer.
    “What are you two talking about?” Anne demanded to know. “Have you met the duchess, Lord Daneridge?
    Met her? Oh, yes. He was thoroughly acquainted with Her Grace , the cuckolding bitch.
    What was her game? The man had obviously never bedded his wife. Was she seeking to gain an indifferent husband’s attention with coy schemes of jealousy? Or perhaps she had never wanted to marry an older man and decided to cuckold him with younger amusement for spite. For a moment, he wished he listened to the ton’s gossip more often; it would likely answer his questions.
    Whatever the answers, she was no different from Ravenna.
    For Anne’s benefit, he fabricated a tale. “We ran into each other, quite literally, at Rundell and Bridge, Lady Raddington. I’m afraid I did not catch her name, but she did drop this.” Lucien retrieved the duchess’s handkerchief from his waistcoat.
    “I will be certain she gets it.” Anne reached for the square of linen.
    Lucien held it away. “Actually, I think I would like to give it to her myself, as a surprise, you understand.”
    “What do you mean, my lord?”
    Lucien flashed a sudden, charming smile. “Would you be so kind as to send her a note telling her a surprise awaits her in the library?”
    “Lord Daneridge, that would be highly improper, considering you’ve never been formally introduced. What is going on here?”
    “Suffice it to say, dear sister, that propriety is no longer an issue between Her Grace and Lord Daneridge.”
    Lucien whirled on his friend. “Niles, shut up.”
    Anne gasped. “The Duchess of Warrington? She’s a noted evangelical, quite devoted to her cause. Are you saying you—”
    “I am saying nothing except that I would like a few words alone with Her Grace.” He enunciated the last words bitterly.
    “Is the handkerchief really hers?” Anne asked.
    Lucien only replied with a terse, “What does ‘SB’ stand for?”
    Anne clearly wanted to know how he could bed a woman and not know her name, but wisely refrained from asking. “It stands for Serena Boyce.”
    Gaze riveted on her dancing figure, her stunning smile, he nodded. “Will you please send her that note, without mentioning I will be awaiting her.”
    “Is it necessary?” Anne asked with an apprehensive glance.
    He nodded. “I promise the discussion will be quick, and I will do nothing to cause scandal in your house.”
    Anne looked undecided. Niles prompted her with a nod.
    “It is against my better judgment, but I will do so. The library in twenty minutes?”
    Lucien glanced at his watch and nodded. And waited.
     
     
     
    ****
    Serena stared at the cryptic note in her hands, delivered only moments ago by a passing servant. A surprise? What manner of surprise? Go find out, silly , she told herself. It might even be fun. After all, Lady Raddington had signed the note, and she would never sponsor anything devious. Nonetheless, it made Serena uneasy. She did not know Lady Raddington well, and could not imagine what this impromptu meeting could possibly be about.
    “What is it, darling?” Cyrus asked from his chair.
    “Nothing at all,” she answered, quickly tucking the note away. She placed a concerned hand over his. “How is your back feeling?”
    “Not well. I’m going to have one last word with Lord