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Marquess of Malice (Lords of Scandal 2)

Page 19

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* * *

Cordelia sat in the sunroom, the light streaming in, making the room pleasantly warm. A full tea service sat to her right as Lord McKenzie smiled at her from her left.

She stood, shifting in order to pour him a cup of tea. “It’s lovely to see you again, Lord McKenzie.”

“And you as well, Lady Cordelia.” He gave her another smile. She’d only realized that his eye teeth were slightly more prominent. A small flaw but it gave him the appearance of a wolf when he grinned like that. “I was very pleased to make your acquaintance last night.”

Pouring his cup of tea, she handed it to him, making eye contact with her mother. The other woman sat near the corner, pretending to knit. Cordelia could see that she wasn’t really paying attention, unless she were knitting a very long scarf. She’d not made a single turn in her stitch since Lord McKenzie had arrived. “And I was pleased to make yours as well.” She drew in a deep breath. “As was Diana. She should be down momentarily. She was a bit delayed this morning.”

He raised the cup to his lips, taking a sip even as he gave her a wink. “I’m not here to see Lady Diana. I came to see you.”

Her mother’s needles stopped.

“Very kind.” She swallowed as she returned to her seat. “But you needn’t worry about my feelings. I know you only asked me to dance because Diana was already promised for every dance.”

He set up his cup back on its saucer, lowering both to balance on his knee. “Does that happen to you often?”

“What’s that?” She looked to the floor, knowing exactly what he’d meant. She could have cursed herself for revealing such a fact to him. For whatever reason, she felt safe sharing her fears with Chad. As if he wouldn’t like her any less for them. She did not have that same trust with McKenzie.

“You’re very beautiful, you know.” He glanced behind him and she did too. Her mother’s head was bent down as she determinedly continued to knit her single long row.

McKenzie turned back to her, and reaching out his hand, brushed his thumb along the top of her cuff along her gloved hand. The touch was intimate and likely should have sparked excitement but she felt nothing. “That’s very kind of you.”

“I’m not being kind, Lady Cordelia. I’m being honest. You have your own charm. Tell me, can you see without the spectacles?”

What did that have to do with anything? She shifted in her seat as she fixed the spectacles. “Not particularly.”

His smile slipped for a moment, before he pulled the corners of his mouth back up. “Well, no matter. They hold their own charm.”

Why did she get the impression he didn’t mean those words? Not that they mattered. She leaned back, pulling her hand from his grasp. “I’ve always found vision to be preferable over blindness.”

Her mother’s needles ceased clicking and she made a definite tsking noise.

Cordelia’s spine snapped straighter. “Tell me, Lord McKenzie, do you live in London most of the time?”

“Of course,” he answered, relaxing back. “The country isn’t the life for me.”

Cordelia nodded as though she understood, though she didn’t at all. She loved the country with quiet strolls and wide-open spaces and reflective time to think and write. “I see. What don’t you like about it?”

He wrinkled his face in distaste. “What’s a man to do but sit and think? Maybe walk, dreadfully boring.”

She nodded again, thinking she must look ridiculous as her glasses slid down her nose. “And what of your life in London? What sorts of adventures do you partake in here?”

He pressed his lips together. “Fishing for information, are we?”

She shrugged. “Would you care to ask me a question in return? We’re getting to know each other, are we not?” She didn’t bother to mention with each sentence he uttered, she grew more certain, there was no future for them.

“We are and I would.” He leaned forward and dropped his voice. “Tell me about that Marquess who looked rather possessive last night. Is he a serious candidate for your hand?”

Her stomach clenched as she thought about Chad. They’d kissed twice and he’d asked her to marry him. But she still wasn’t entirely certain of the answer. “That depends, I suppose.”

“Depends on what?” a deep voice called from the door. Cordelia would recognize that voice anywhere. Her head snapped up and she caught sight of her butler first. Standing with wide eyes in the doorway. Just behind him and a full head taller was Chad.

He locked his gaze on hers.

She pulled her shoulders straighter. “It depends on you.”

Chapter Nine



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