Earl of Exile (Lords of Scandal 3) - Page 49

First, she’d just lied through her teeth. No one in the history of the world had ever considered her a ruiner of rakes. It was a complete falsehood. In fact, they often teased her for being bland and frightened by everything, men especially.

Second, her lie had clearly discombobulated the Viscount and once he realized she’d fibbed, well he’d be even angrier. Ada never got away with falsehoods. Some people could, but not her. Diana swore that every lie was visible on her face. It must be true. How else did she get caught every time?

And she was certain he already suspected the lie. Hadn’t he said so when he’d told her that he’d known women who could carry the title of rake-ruiner? She was certain he had. And implied in that statement were two facts she’d long known about herself. One, she was not that sort of woman at all. And two, a man like Viceroy would never be interested in her. He’d all but said the words himself.

“Lord Viceroy, are you all right?” She reached down as the entire wedding stopped to stare at them. He took her hand but was too tangled in the chair to get up.

Standing, she righted the wooden seat and then reached down for Lord Viceroy again. Wedged in a small aisle, she meant to help him stand with as much dignity as possible. But he pulled before Ada had planted her feet. Rather than helping him stand, she toppled forward landing directly on him, her face nearly smashing into his. He stuck his hand between them, which was a good thing. If he hadn’t, their teeth might very well have crashed together but his knuckle hit her cheekbone and a sharp pain made her roll to the side. “Ouch,” she cried.

He wrapped his other arm about her, just managing to keep her from crashing into the chairs while she planted one hand on the floor next Viceroy’s face, the other pressing to his chest. Moving his hand, he cupped her cheek and turned her face. “Damn it all to hell,” he muttered. “You’re going to have a bruise.”

She tried to scramble off his body, but her skirts were getting tangled from her movement on top of him. Her legs wound about his and their hips pressed together. All the contact…well…it was causing her to heat. Or was that her embarrassment? No, it wasn’t just that. She’d never touched a man like this before and he was so muscular underneath her. A pulse began to ache between her legs. So handsome…

Her breath caught and her eyes widened. Could he tell how she was responding? He was still studying her cheek. “Daring is going to kill me,” he muttered under his breath.

“It’s not your faul—”

As if he’d heard, Ada’s brother-in-law, the Duke of Darlington, called from two rows back. “What is going on up there?”

Ada pressed her lips together. Daring, as Vice called Darlington, was her sister’s husband. But he was also one of Vice’s good friends and they owned a club together along with the Marquess of Malicorn, Earl of Exmouth, and the Baron of Baderness.

“It’s fine,” she called back as if that made everything all right. “We’ll be up in just a moment. No need to worry.”

“Bloody hell,” he said, his normally pleasant features twisting into a frown. The man had blond hair with sky-blue eyes, chiseled features and full lips. Her breath caught again as her hand fisted in his shirt. Which only served to remind her how strong and hard his chest was.

Vice started to sit up and somehow managed to pull her up with him, climbing to his feet while holding her. He set Ada back on the floor, his hands firmly on her waist. “My apologies for falling. Thank you for attempting to help me. I did not intend to pull you…”

She waved her hand. “The fault was most assuredly mine.” Then she took a step back, nearly tripping on Grace’s feet.

Her parents had turned back to stare and Ada wished she could disappear into the floor. Everyone was staring. She wobbled and Vice’s hands shot out to

hold her in place again. Her skin shivered at his touch. He gave her another charming grin. The sort that looked practiced and false. Her shivers stopped. He made her weak in the knees but not when he looked so rehearsed. That look reminded her that she was one of many women, and likely the least of them.

“If you insist on taking the blame, I won’t stop you.” Then he winked.

Her eyes narrowed as she cocked her head to the side, assessing him. When they’d been tangled together on the floor, she’d forgotten what sort of man he was. For a moment, he was just the handsome, well-built man pressed against her. And honestly, she did respond to him in ways she didn’t fully understand. But when he started talking…he made her angry, first and foremost. Most likely because she knew a man like him would never actually be interested in her. His stock lines were meant for any woman with a pulse. He didn’t recognize her, of course, but Ada was well acquainted with Vice.

She knew what sort she’d marry. An affable fellow that her sister would likely call dull. Sure, Minnie and Diana had tamed rakes, but Ada, she’d be lucky to tame her red hair into a coif subdued enough for a merchant or a doctor. She’d been courted by an adventurer. Or that’s what she liked to call him. A man who went off to exciting places to study animals. But even he’d left her. She just wasn’t exciting enough, she was certain of it. “You do know that gentlemen take the blame as a rule.”

“I’m no gentleman,” he whispered leaning close. “But if you’d like me to, it can be all my fault. This time and every time.”

Every time? What was that supposed to mean? She scrunched her brow but his wicked grin that curled his lips told her that he meant something untoward and was now making fun of her lack of experience.

There was no point in answering, so she sat down, staring straight ahead so as not to have to look at anyone. The wedding was over and the rosy feeling that had filled her chest watching the nuptials was gone. Which was all Vice’s fault. Crossing her arms, she glared at him. She might hate that man.

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Tags: Tammy Andresen Lords of Scandal Historical
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