Duchess of Seduction (Hearts in Hiding 3)

Cressida turned to stare at her cousin. Catherine’s capacity for interference suddenly frightened her. Justin would not, could not, deny the existence of Mariah Zirelli, but now was not the time for such a confession. Catherine would be like a dog with a bone. She would use Justin’s guilt for her own ends. His remorse, and the torture Catherine would put him through, would go some way toward alleviating the pain caused by Catherine’s own husband’s painful lack of any finer feelings, but it had the potential to destroy Justin in his own eyes.

“It’s all right, Catherine.” Cressida stood once more, no longer desperate to hear her husband beg her forgiveness. He could do that later, without Catherine to witness it.

She was prepared for silence, even for a mumbled, “We’ll talk about this later,” but Justin’s response struck a heavy blow to her new resolve when, in a tone almost of injury, he said, “I’m sorry to see you’ve been caused pain, Cressy, but you’ve misunderstood matters.” The flinty gaze that he’d leveled upon Catherine softened as he held out his hand to Cressida. “I’m so glad to see you safely here, my darling, when I was so worried. Everything will be all right when we are alone.”

Alone... Oh, how Cressida longed for it.

“So Cressida’s eyes deceived her.” Catherine’s voice was smug. She smiled at her cousin. “I’m sure you’re greatly relieved to hear that, my dear, but I think the fact you’ve woken me at such an ungodly hour deserves an explanation. What is the cause of your distress, which Justin is so anxious to make you believe was nothing?”

“It is nothing, but clearly Cressida thinks otherwise.” In clipped tones Justin added, “Leave it, Catherine, so I might explain everything in private.”

Catherine shifted, patted Cressida’s arm, and said smugly, “But I have been drawn into the middle of it, haven’t I? And I want an answer more satisfactory that the one with which you’ve fobbed off Cressida. Come Justin, if her eyes deceived her—and that’s why she’s so upset—what did she see?”

Torn, Cressida sank back into her seat, wavering, then ultimately rejecting the hand her husband extended toward her. Justin had quite clearly denied the truth of that which could not be denied. Cressida had seen him in the arms of the woman who’d been his former mistress right up to the eve of his marriage. The woman, rumor had it, to whom he’d returned. Furthermore, it was at a notorious House of Assignation.

Did Justin truly think Cressida such a gullible fool? Was she nothing more than a doormat who could be relied upon not to make a fuss and to turn a blind eye whenever he chose to stray?

Catherine was not to be denied her evening’s entertainment. Ignoring Justin, she ran her hand over Cressida’s black silk skirts. Her eyes glittered with curiosity. “Where have you come from tonight, Cressy? I can see it’s not masquerade, so surely it’s some wild disguise?”

“Nowhere you’d know,” Cressida mumbled while she still agonized over whether she’d stay or go with Justin.

“Nowhere I’d know.” Catherine repeated Cressida’s words slowly, clearly intrigued. “Why, Cressy, I didn’t think you had it in you. It’s Wednesday, isn’t it? And if you weren’t at home or with me, why surely you’ve been at Mrs. Plumb’s? Look at you. I’ve never seen you look so dashing...” Her words trailed away. She tilted her head to look at Justin, and her mouth curved in a speculative smile. “But I fear something at Mrs. Plumb’s has upset you. Something involving your husband and,” she added, carefully, “perhaps another woman.”

Justin seized Cressida’s hand and pulled her to her feet. It was the ungentlest action Cressida had ever experienced at his hands and a thrill of mixed emotions flooded her. She wanted to be with him more than anything in the world right now, yet there was a grain in truth in what Catherine said.

“Cressida’s eyes deceived her. She is coming home with me.”

Cressida’s eyes deceived her? Indignation gained the upper hand and banished Cressida’s desire to meekly return home with her husband. Her eyes had certainly not deceived her. And while Cressida was prepared to accept a watered-down version of the truth, unless she showed some backbone, as Catherine put it, she realized in this instant that this might well be only the start of even greater sorrow .

The truth was that the time had come for her to stand up for herself .

Snatching away her hand, she challenged Justin for the first time in their married life, her voice thick with emotion, her heart pounding so hard she could barely hear her own words. “I saw you with Madame Zirelli. Did my eyes deceive me as to the”—she choked down the painful swelling in her throat—“familiarity of her greeting?”

Justin stilled. “Madame Zirelli is an old friend.” He spoke carefully. Was that because he was afraid of incriminating himself? “It could not have escaped your notice, Cressida, that she is also at least ten years older than you. A woman of mature years. One whose advice I have sought in a platonic sense, and whom I am aiding in a capacity quite unrelated to...everything else.”

So it had come to this? Oblivious of everything around her, Cressida stared at Justin for the first time as if he were not her husband. The eyes that generally regarded her with genial warmth were wary. Surely that must suggest—she nearly choked on her grief—guilt? The lean, handsome jaw was clenched as if he hung on her response, and his whole stance was as tense as if he were about to spring.

This was not the Justin she knew. She wanted her loving husband back. She wanted this whole nightmare to go away so she could wake up in Justin’s arms feeling warm and safe like she’d done almost every morning until...

She hung her head as she finished the thought.

Until ten months ago when she’d withdrawn, physically, from him.

“Do you deny she is your mistress?” s

he whispered, even though to hear him confirm it would be like a lance through her heart.

“I don’t know what made you think it, but Madame Zirelli is not my mistress.”

Catherine cocked her head. “Then why were you at Mrs. Plumb’s with her?”

“I heard she was your mistress before you married me,” Cressida whispered.

“Yes,” he said, carefully, “before I married you, she was my mistress.”

“Then you admit you lied to me just now!” Cressida clapped her hand to her mouth. “Why not just tell me I forced you away? That I pushed you into the arms of this woman who could be relied upon to...give you the comfort I couldn’t—”

“Good Lord, Cressy, you are overwrought!” Seizing her wrist once more, Justin pulled her to her feet. tilting her chin with his forefinger as he forced her to meet his eyes. “That is not what happened at all. I have not been unfaithful in mind or body for the entire eight years we’ve been married.”