One Scandalous Kiss by Christy Carlyle Read Free Book Online Page B

“I feared you were unwell. Tell me why I’m here so early.”
    She patted his arm and whispered back, “You shall soon see. Gird your loins.”
    Pulling back to squint at her, Lucius had only a moment to ponder why she’d advised him to prepare for battle before turning to face the two guests she indicated with the sweep of an arm.
    “I believe you’re all acquainted with my nephew, Viscount Grimsby.”
    She spoke his title with special emphasis. Lucius couldn’t remember the last time she’d bothered to do so. But as he took in the two ladies perched on her settee, he understood. Both of the women had been at the gallery the previous evening.
    “Lucius, you know Mrs. Ornish, of course.”
    He nodded to his late mother’s friend and she returned a tight smile.
    “And her sister, Mrs. Briggs.”
    Before he could perform the niceties of Pleased to meet you s and bowing and placing chaste kisses in the air above hands, Delia Ornish spoke up.
    “Lord Grimsby, I do hope you are well after last evening’s . . . Well, the dreadful incident with that . . . that horrible woman.”
    Lucius had spent the most of the evening thinking about that particular woman. Horrible wasn’t a word he would use to describe her. Lovely , inscrutable , frustrating —all that, but never horrible . He took a breath to state that he was quite recovered and that no lasting harm had been done, belying his restless night, but Mrs. Briggs preempted him.
    “You should know that my husband has taken direct action as a result of that woman’s behavior.”
    “Has he indeed? What sort of action might that be, Mrs. Briggs?”
    “Lucius, do sit down.”
    His aunt’s tone made it sound as if he’d been remiss, absolving her two guests of their rudeness in bombarding him so early in the morning.
    “Tea?”
    She didn’t wait for his reply before ringing a crystal bell that rested on a side table next to her chair. A maid entered the room in the next instant bearing a tea service. After receiving her teacup and a scone-laden plate, Mrs. Briggs didn’t bother partaking before offering her reply.
    “He’s ruined her.”
    Lucius nearly choked on the hot liquid he’d begun to sip, and the teacup and saucer rattled a moment in his hands before he got the porcelain under control. The notion of Mr. Briggs, whoever the blasted man was, ruining the woman who’d haunted his thoughts was more outrageous than anything she’d done. More outrageous than his own wicked thoughts about ruining her, certainly.
    “I beg your pardon, madam?”
    “She owns some miserable little bookshop and has incurred more debt than she can ever repay.” Mrs. Briggs fussed with her dress, sniffing haughtily as if that was an end to the matter. Lucius had the impulse to take her by her puffed sleeve–covered shoulders and shake the rest of the story out of her.
    Closing his eyes, he only just resisted pinching the bridge of his nose where his head had begun to throb—too much brandy and too little sleep were a wretched combination.
    “And how does this involve your husband, Mrs. Briggs?” he bit out slowly, giving each word its due and tempering the tone he truly wished to use.
    His aunt finally chimed in. “He owns the bank that made the loan, you see. He has foreclosed on her. Or he will do soon, according to Mrs. Briggs.”
    He could see Miss Wright in a bookshop, her wire-rimmed spectacles perched at the end of her nose. The young woman had already lost her family. He couldn’t abide the notion of her losing anything else.
    “For this? Because of some foolish nonsense that no one will remember in a week?”
    He took a swallow of tea, the flavor suddenly bitter, after barking out the words. Perhaps he’d been too loud, too vehement. It certainly hadn’t done the drumming in his head any good.
    Augusta was staring at him, her eyebrows peaked high on her forehead.
    He too wondered why he was suddenly defending Miss Wright’s actions. It most assuredly had