A Gentleman's Curse (Avenging Lords 4)

Drake’s smile enveloped Lockhart like a warm embrace as their gazes locked. “I am, and if I don’t leave soon I shall punch one of these fools making inappropriate gestures to my wife.”

Lockhart noted the lady at Drake’s side, dressed as a shepherdess and wielding a crook. She was Drake’s opposite in every way—petite, dainty, with kind eyes beneath her mask.

Introductions were made.

Valentine and Greystone, both dressed in plain black dominoes, patted Lockhart numerous times on the back, though their curious gazes lingered on the lady at his side. He met the women who had captured his friends’ hearts. Juliet was the delicate lady who held the giant, Drake, in thrall. Aveline’s intelligent eyes were surely the reason Valentine had fallen in love. And Lydia’s lively spirit had captured Greystone’s heart. Greystone’s playful exterior belied the intelligent, methodical, hardworking man whose business acumen had helped to secure all their fortunes.

“Welcome home,” Greystone said, his gaze flicking in Claudia’s direction by way of prompting an introduction. “I trust everything in Russell Square meets with your approval.”

“It does,” Lockhart said, confused at his own reluctance to present Miss Darling. Perhaps it was because these men knew the truth, and he liked playing husband, liked keeping Miss Darling all to himself.

Valentine fixed a stare and bowed low. “As my friend seems somewhat lapse when it comes to manners, Mrs Lockhart, let me welcome you to London.”

Miss Darling smiled. “Thank you, my lord, though I must admit to preferring the peace of the country,” she said, remembering what Lockhart had said about remaining in character, even with his friends. “And I like devoting my time to my husband without unnecessary distractions.”

Valentine’s smile expressed approval.

Lockhart turned to look at her. He gazed into her innocent blue eyes—eyes that did not look so innocent tonight—without looking at her breasts. “The next few hours will pass quickly and we will be alone again soon.”

The other six people in the group gaped.

Greystone arched an inquiring brow. “May we know your wife’s name or is it to remain a closely guarded secret?”

“Of course.” Lockhart inclined his head. “Allow me to present Mrs Claudia Lockhart, wife of an infamous rogue.”

All three ladies broke into excited chatter, inviting Miss Darling to tea, to a shopping trip at the Burlington Arcade, to a meeting with a group of ladies who studied literature as a means of enlightenment.

Lockhart cast his friends a look that conveyed the depth of

his fear, conveyed the dangers Miss Darling faced once Terence Lockhart learnt the truth.

“There is plenty of time to shop for new bonnets,” Lord Valentine said. “I doubt Lockhart will leave Claudia’s side during—” He broke off abruptly and turned to Miss Darling. “May I call you Claudia?”

“Certainly.”

“What Valentine is trying to say,” Greystone interrupted, “is that Lockhart is besotted with his wife and will, no doubt, monopolise her attention whilst in town.”

“And we must make time to reunite with family,” Lockhart added, though keeping his hands from wringing his brother’s neck would prove problematic. “Speaking of which, I assume Terence is here this evening.”

Drake nodded to a point near the orchestra. “Terence is wearing the burgundy domino and Scaramouch mask. Selina has come as Minerva though some have mistaken her for Athena.” Drake snorted. “Roman, Greek, they are pretty much the same.”

“I would have to disagree,” Aveline countered.

While Aveline and Drake conversed about the Roman goddess taking her influence from the Greeks, Lockhart scanned the crowd, searching for his quarry.

Bitterness formed like bile in his throat when he located Selina Lockhart. The ebony-haired coquette had the gall to look sad, subdued. He had wanted to wipe the arrogance from her face, wanted to knock her off her polished marble pedestal and see her grovel. While Terence spoke to friends, she simply stared at the jugglers and then at those dancing the quadrille.

“De Lancey has spared no expense when it comes to entertainment,” Lockhart said. “He’s hired every sideshow act except for a performing monkey.”

Valentine raised his mask and sharpened his gaze. “Dariell told you, didn’t he?”

“Told me what?”

“That I have developed a dislike of the creatures.”

“A dislike of sideshow acts?”

Valentine groaned. “Of monkeys.”