If I'm admitted into his home, my wishes for the night obvious, surely he would not turn me away."
"So, you have heard the rumour." Anna pulled her toward two chairs, partly hidden by a large, potted fern, and sat.
"That Lord Scandal is putting aside his scandalous life? Yes, I've heard,"
Miranda said, lowering herself to the second chair.
Anna gave her a comforting smile. "And you are frightened he has attained a tender for some other lady, and your chance to be with him may be at an end?"
"Yes." Miranda blinked back the tears that threatened. The thought of another woman married to him and having his children tore her in two. It would be too hard to bear.
Anna smiled. "Lord Scandal will not turn you away, Miranda. Why, even now his eyes are undressing Lady Cavendish. No, Lord Scandal is still a thorn in every husband's side and perhaps will continue to be so for some time yet. And you will end the night in his bed, sated beyond your imagination, I promise you."
Miranda's mouth dried at the concept, and she prayed she was up to such a folly with a man who had once broken her youthful, foolish heart.
Lord Sedley looked over the crowded ballroom with a disinterested air. No woman present sparked an ounce of interest in him. Well, perhaps one.
Lady Miranda Fitsimmon was as beautiful and pure as always. Hair as dark as a moonless night, she sparkled like a diamond among paste. His gaze moved across to her friend, Lady Anna Cameron, and his eyes narrowed. No two women could be so unalike, and yet, fast friends they were, and reverently loyal to one another.
He swallowed a sigh of discontent and finished his brandy, relieved to have escaped Lady Cavendish. He should go home and forget this eve, this year, his entire life. Lord Scandal was at an end. No longer did he wish for one-night sex romps with women of his sphere. To give and receive pleasure for pleasure's sake no longer held the same excitement it once had. The whole process now palled, offended his sensibilities, hardened his heart, and led him to believe all women cheated on their husbands.
All but one.
"You'll make Lady Marshall and Lady Cavendish jealous if you keep eyeing Miranda Fitsimmon like you are. Do I suspect my brother is mooning over a woman?" Thomas asked, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
Sedley leant against the doorframe and ignored the taunt. "Sadly, you are mistaken. Lady Miranda is as cold as the Thames in winter." He beckoned a footman carrying drinks. "Where is Annabelle? I see the object of your constant mooning is absent from your side."
His brother grinned. "She says she is too large for polite company and refused to join me. I'm actually on my way home and noticed you standing here . . . alone."
Sedley met his brother's gaze. "Annabelle is only five months gone; surely she can grace the ton with her distinguished airs for a month or so yet," he said, trying to keep the sarcasm from his tone. His brother's next words indicated he had failed.
"She is my wife, brother. Do not mock what I suspect you yourself yearn for."
His brother made an exasperated sound. "Do you not tire of this 'Lord Scandal' game you play?"
Sedley scoffed and winked at a passing debutante, grinned when she blushed scarlet and scuttled off like the big bad wolf was after her. "Your wife, brother, does not like me. Therefore, I believe I'm entitled to my opinion of her." He paused. "And why would I want a wife? Not a more heinous notion for a man such as myself."
"Heinous, yes, but one you would welcome nonetheless," Thomas said, clasping his brother's shoulder. "Tell me you are not going to continue this dalliance with Lady Marshall. She is only one month into her year of mourning. This disillusioned life and disgraceful reputation you have earned must end. One day you will sleep with the wrong woman."
Sedley watched his younger sibling walk off with a mix of envy and vexation.
Damn his insightfulness. He sculled the last of the amber liquid. It was time
"So, you have heard the rumour." Anna pulled her toward two chairs, partly hidden by a large, potted fern, and sat.
"That Lord Scandal is putting aside his scandalous life? Yes, I've heard,"
Miranda said, lowering herself to the second chair.
Anna gave her a comforting smile. "And you are frightened he has attained a tender for some other lady, and your chance to be with him may be at an end?"
"Yes." Miranda blinked back the tears that threatened. The thought of another woman married to him and having his children tore her in two. It would be too hard to bear.
Anna smiled. "Lord Scandal will not turn you away, Miranda. Why, even now his eyes are undressing Lady Cavendish. No, Lord Scandal is still a thorn in every husband's side and perhaps will continue to be so for some time yet. And you will end the night in his bed, sated beyond your imagination, I promise you."
Miranda's mouth dried at the concept, and she prayed she was up to such a folly with a man who had once broken her youthful, foolish heart.
Lord Sedley looked over the crowded ballroom with a disinterested air. No woman present sparked an ounce of interest in him. Well, perhaps one.
Lady Miranda Fitsimmon was as beautiful and pure as always. Hair as dark as a moonless night, she sparkled like a diamond among paste. His gaze moved across to her friend, Lady Anna Cameron, and his eyes narrowed. No two women could be so unalike, and yet, fast friends they were, and reverently loyal to one another.
He swallowed a sigh of discontent and finished his brandy, relieved to have escaped Lady Cavendish. He should go home and forget this eve, this year, his entire life. Lord Scandal was at an end. No longer did he wish for one-night sex romps with women of his sphere. To give and receive pleasure for pleasure's sake no longer held the same excitement it once had. The whole process now palled, offended his sensibilities, hardened his heart, and led him to believe all women cheated on their husbands.
All but one.
"You'll make Lady Marshall and Lady Cavendish jealous if you keep eyeing Miranda Fitsimmon like you are. Do I suspect my brother is mooning over a woman?" Thomas asked, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
Sedley leant against the doorframe and ignored the taunt. "Sadly, you are mistaken. Lady Miranda is as cold as the Thames in winter." He beckoned a footman carrying drinks. "Where is Annabelle? I see the object of your constant mooning is absent from your side."
His brother grinned. "She says she is too large for polite company and refused to join me. I'm actually on my way home and noticed you standing here . . . alone."
Sedley met his brother's gaze. "Annabelle is only five months gone; surely she can grace the ton with her distinguished airs for a month or so yet," he said, trying to keep the sarcasm from his tone. His brother's next words indicated he had failed.
"She is my wife, brother. Do not mock what I suspect you yourself yearn for."
His brother made an exasperated sound. "Do you not tire of this 'Lord Scandal' game you play?"
Sedley scoffed and winked at a passing debutante, grinned when she blushed scarlet and scuttled off like the big bad wolf was after her. "Your wife, brother, does not like me. Therefore, I believe I'm entitled to my opinion of her." He paused. "And why would I want a wife? Not a more heinous notion for a man such as myself."
"Heinous, yes, but one you would welcome nonetheless," Thomas said, clasping his brother's shoulder. "Tell me you are not going to continue this dalliance with Lady Marshall. She is only one month into her year of mourning. This disillusioned life and disgraceful reputation you have earned must end. One day you will sleep with the wrong woman."
Sedley watched his younger sibling walk off with a mix of envy and vexation.
Damn his insightfulness. He sculled the last of the amber liquid. It was time
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