Earl of Exile (Lords of Scandal 3)

And Miss Ada wasn’t list worthy. Yes, she was lovely with her pale auburn hair glimmering in the sun and her bright green eyes that only looked more sparkly with the sheen of tears. And yes, her figure was supple, the perfect amount of soft curves with an ample bosom and a tiny waist. Of course, her trembling lip as she stared at the bride and groom made him wonder what she might taste like. And the soft noise of satisfaction she emitted sounded like the sweetest pillow talk he’d ever heard. But Miss Chase wasn’t accomplished at anything of significance…and therefore was not his sort at all.

“That kiss,” she turned toward him then, her eyes a bit dreamy, her head tilted to one side. “Diana is glowing.”

Vice’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Glowing?” His mouth tasted like he’d eaten gravel.

Ada tapped his arm with her fan, a light tap that brushed against his waistcoat with a bit of a tickle. “Don’t you see it? The color in her cheeks. Her breathless smile. It’s just—”

“Beautiful?” Vice filled in the word she’d just used moments before. “You’ve already told us.”

She turned toward him then, her mouth slightly parted. “You don’t think so?”

He assessed her features. Her high cheekbones were flushed with a pinkish-brown hue that accentuated the tiny spattering of freckles across her nose. They were not to his usual taste at all, giving her an air of innocence, but he found he’d like to count them. Perhaps kiss a few. “Weddings are generally a bore. And even worse, all I can think is that the groom has given up all the fun in life to take care of a woman and a passel of brats that are soon to follow.”

Ada sniffed, turning back toward the front. “My goodness, you are dreadful, aren’t you?”

His best friend, the Baron of Baderness, sat two seats away, next to Ada’s cousin, Lady Grace. Now Grace was a woman that might make his list. The features of her face were a perfect mask of feminine beauty. Bad leaned over, making eye contact despite the two ladies between them. “He’s beyond dreadful. I might use the word insufferable,” Bad murmured just loud enough for the four of them to hear him.

Grace let out a tiny giggle. “You’re quite funny. You’re so quiet, I didn’t realize.” That made Bad snap his mouth shut and sit back in his chair.

It was Vice’s turn to chuckle. “He isn’t. He only makes a joke once every five years.”

Ada’s mouth curved into a small grin. The sort where her lips stayed together, not showing any of her teeth. But she shook her head, as though she disapproved, despite her relaxed features. Then one finger came to her chin. “Insufferable?” She looked back at him, he

r green eyes sparkling. “The word suits you.”

He cocked a brow. By his estimation, Ada Chase had no right to give him any trouble at all. Six weeks prior, she, her sister, and cousins had entered into his secret gaming hell that he ran with five of his friends. They’d learned the men’s secret and put themselves in danger. Now, he and Bad were being forced to babysit the only two Chase women who weren’t wed. The job was worse than attending this wedding.

“And what word might suit you?” He returned, leaning closer. Which might have been a mistake. She smelled of cookies or cinnamon. Perhaps both. No wait, he caught subtle whiffs of honey laced into her sweet smell. Without meaning to, he drew in a deep whiff. Delightful.

She shrugged, but her face tensed and her hands clasped in her lap. Dropping her head to look down at her hands, she pursed her lips. “Am I to insert the word most often used to describe me?”

“If it pleases you.” He sat back feeling as though he’d just won some unnamed battle of wits. He could see her discomfort.

Then she relaxed. Her head drew higher as the lines of her body straightened. Ada looked over at him then, leaning close. “My sister and cousins often call me little bird. I suppose it’s because I do tend to flit with nervousness.”

That sounded about right to him. Looking at her features now, she was just as beautiful, if not more so, than Grace. But she lacked the confidence that drew attention to those looks.

She pressed a bit closer still and her left breast brushed against his arm. His entire body clenched at the light touch as her breath whispered across the skin of his ear, near causing him to shiver. There was nothing mousy about that move. “But in the last year, I’ve gotten a new nickname.”

He turned to her then, realizing just how close she was, an inch, perhaps two, and he could press his lips to her softly parted ones. He fisted his fingers to keep from touching her face. Damn, he wanted to kiss her. How was she doing this? “What is it?”

“Ruiner of rakes,” she answered, looking him directly in the eye. “Can you imagine a sillier name?”

Was she moving closer? He blinked twice trying to make his eyes work properly when she straightened away again. “You? Ruiner of rakes? I’ve met some women in my day who could claim that title, but you? A woman capable of making a sinful man repent?”

She gave a tiny shrug. She didn’t pull away but he did note a tiny crinkling about the eyes, almost as though she were wincing. “I know. It’s absurd, really.”

He narrowed his gaze. Was she challenging him? His mouth curved into a smile as a new idea caught his fancy. If she wanted to wage a war in the field of affection, he was game. And if she really did have a reputation as a reformer of rakes, well, she’d make a nice addition to his list.

Having her attention would help accomplish another goal as well. In fact, his job would be far easier, if she wished to be by his side. He’d agreed to keep watch over her when she was in public. It was the very reason he sat next to her today. Ada had discovered a secret about his friends and he needed to make certain Ada kept that secret. And recent events dictated that he also keep her safe.

He gave her his most charming smile. “Not absurd at all. I see it now. Your hair reminds me of sunset on a warm summer day and your eyes are the color of new grass. How could a rake not be enchanted?”

Rather than smile, she grimaced, her sweet lips turning down into a decided frown. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but it won’t work with me.”

He started, which pushed him toward the edge of his chair and his back slipped off the narrow strip of wood it had been leaning against. He was never clumsy and he didn’t understand it now, but in sickening slow motion, he fell to the side, catching his hand on the very piece of wood that had just failed him. The problem was that his weight had shifted to one side of the seat, at least that was what he decided later. In the moment, however, he careened off to one side, both him and the chair crashing to the ground. Gasps filled the air as the organ came to a grinding halt. He looked up to find Ada staring at him as though he’d grown a second head.

Ada looked at the Viscount laying at her feet, tangled in his chair. She nibbled at her lip trying to decipher how bad the situation was.