“I’m not sure how I managed that.”
“I can tell you how. Because you were so refreshing. With your frankness and your high spirits, you were unlike every other debutante in existence. A tart lemon ice to their blancmange.”
Raven made a face. “How gratifying to be compared to a vanilla pudding, Dare. And to think I tried so hard to conform.”
“You succeeded admirably, but you still stood out in the crowd.” Dare hesitated. “If you’re serious about keeping your husband from straying, a little effort at seduction would not go amiss.” He glanced toward the hazard table. “Perhaps I should see how Halford is getting along.”
He left her then to stew over his advice.
Raven frowned thoughtfully as she eyed her husband. Did she wish to keep Kell from straying? Did she want to risk a mortifying rebuff?
It would be undeniably brazen to try to seduce him. While her upbringing had been unconventional, she possessed enough ladylike sensibilities to hesitate at such flagrant boldness. And yet she was immeasurably weary of conforming to society’s rigid rules.
Furthermore, she was not the unsoiled virgin with a spotless reputation to protect that she’d been a few short weeks ago. In that sense, the scandal had been liberating. She had much more freedom now from the stifling strictures of the ton, the trivialities of London drawing rooms, the vapidness, the pretense. If she wanted to seduce her notorious husband, she could do so without feeling shame or guilt.
And she had to confess she was tempted. So tempted.
She was also dismayingly, idiotically jealous, Raven realized when she saw Kell laugh at something Emma said.
The intimacy of the gesture sent rebellion flaring inside Raven. Involuntarily her hands curled into fists, and she moved forward, unable to stop herself. She found herself standing before Kell, demanding an interview of a man for the second time that evening. But this time there was fire in her heart.
“Might I have a word with you, dear husband?” she said through gritted teeth.
Kell raised an eyebrow, while Emma’s smile of greeting faded.
The hostess looked from Raven to Kell, who gave a brief nod.
The moment Emma was out of earshot, Raven launched her impulsive tirade. “Publicly flaunting your mistress is hardly the way to avoid scandal.”
He regarded her levelly, not remarking on the unfairness of her attack. “I had no idea you cared about my mistresses.”
“I don’t, except when you make such an obvious display of your affections.”
“If you are so concerned about appearances, perhaps we should continue this argument in a less public forum.”
“Very well,” Raven replied tightly, realizing they were once again the focus of all eyes. “Where do you suggest?”
He gave her a curt, mocking bow. “I will meet you shortly upstairs in my apartments. I believe you know t
he way.”
Chapter Fourteen
She waited for him in his private study rather than the intimacy of his bedchamber. The fire had died down to embers, so she added more coal and stood at the hearth, warming her hands and wondering what madness had overcome her.
Did she really want to make an issue of Kell’s mistresses? Did she want to acknowledge her jealousy, even to herself?
At least she didn’t have long to wait. Only moments later Raven heard the study door shut softly. She whirled to find Kell leaning indolently against the door-jamb, watching her with narrowed eyes.
“I suppose you mean to explain your tantrum just now, dear wife,” he said finally, his tone cool.
Raven swallowed, regretting her earlier outburst. She hadn’t meant to make her possessiveness so obvious. “It was hardly a tantrum. It was more along the lines of a complaint.”
“And just what do you have to complain about?”
“Your indiscretion,” she prevaricated. “It is mortifying to have to watch your dalliance before a roomful of people.”
“If you had taken my advice and kept away, you wouldn’t have to watch my dalliance, as you put it.”