One Wicked Sin by Nicola Cornick

been himself. She was the one who had invested her feelings too heavily in what had only been a light affaire. She could not blame Devlin for her behavior. She felt strange to admit it. It had always been easier to lay her ruin at his door than to take the responsibility for it herself.
    But Ethan was waiting for his answer and his gaze was acute. She smoothed the wrinkles in her gloves and avoided his eyes.
    “Not in the slightest,” she said. “He was a diversion. I told you last night—I get bored so easily and handsome young men are equally easily found.”
    Ethan did not reply and she was not sure if she had convinced him. When the play finished they did not take the private exit from the box—of course not, Ethan would not wish to slip away unseen—but went down into the foyer where the crush of people was hot and oppressive. Once again, as in the Park, Lottie felt the looks and the censure, heard the whispers, and even saw some ladies draw their skirts away from her as though to touch her would be to risk contamination. Her head spun with the heat and the lights and the smell of bodies pressed close, and she tried to smile and appear as arrogant and unconcerned as Ethan did, but it felt sohard. The smile did not reach her eyes; it was slipping away from her even as she tried to force it to stay.
    And then there he was, James Devlin, right in front of her, and the crowd fell back and Dev turned to look at her and she saw the dismay in his eyes and the dread he was too slow to mask. She could see that he did not even know how to address her. Something of his unease had communicated itself to the young girl at his side, for her bright, happy expression had started to fade to uncertainty. Behind her an older lady, her mother perhaps, shifted uncomfortably, backing away from Lottie as though from a leper. The debutante shot Devlin a look of combined entreaty and fear.
    This is how it will be for you, Lottie thought, watching the girl’s face. You will have heard the gossip that Devlin has always been a ladies’ man and you will always be wondering which were his conquests….
    “Mr. Devlin…” Lottie found her poise. She smiled impartially at the group. They should cut her dead, of course, but it was too late for that. They were all trapped by this accident of fate.
    “How do you do?” she said. “I hope you are well.”
    Dev’s face relaxed a little. “Madam…”
    Lottie turned to Ethan. “May I introduce Lord St. Severin?”
    Now Dev was smiling, relieved, flushed with pride like a boy confronted with his childhood hero.
    “My lord,” Dev said, “it is such a great pleasure…. When I was growing up in Ireland I heard stories about you, and I have studied your exploits with great admiration—”
    “Surely you mean with interest rather thanadmiration, Mr. Devlin,” Ethan corrected gently, “since I understand that you have served as a member of His Majesty’s British Navy?”
    There was a ripple of relieved laughter in the group that Ethan had saved Dev from a treasonable faux pas . Lottie put her hand lightly on Ethan’s arm. She felt strong, hard muscle beneath her fingers. Odd that she had never seen James Devlin as a gauche youth until tonight, when beside Ethan’s power and authority he seemed diminished somehow, still handsome but almost untried.
    “You must excuse us,” she said, drawing away from the group. “I wish you all a good evening.”
    They went out into the street and the night air was fresh on Lottie’s skin and eased the ache in her head.
    “That was gracious of you,” Ethan said. “You could have caused a scene.”
    “That would have been bad ton ,” Lottie said lightly.
    “And you are cousin to a Duke. I do not forget it, even if others do.”
    She could not place Ethan’s tone and when she looked at him his face was expressionless. He was watching her closely, his blue eyes dark and watchful.
    “You are quite well, I hope,” he added.
    “Quite well,” Lottie