“I would not have been his first choice,” Rosalie said dismissively, and Nathan had to admire the way she didn’t seem to lose a beat. “He would have preferred a son. But in the end, he came to see my value.”
“Wasn’t that you who helped get him arrested?” Lord Redfield asked suddenly, the suspicion returning to his face.
“It was my sister Violet,” Rosalie snorted. “She is very uptight, a moralist.”
Redfield’s brow furrowed in suspicion. “If you were really your father’s successor, then why is it I hear Lord Cain has taken over his businesses?”
“Because Lord Cain is a snake,” Rosalie growled, and there was real passion in her voice now, real anger. She took a deep breath. “And he stole what was rightfully mine.”
“Then perhaps it is a good thing you married so quickly,” Redfield said, “and to a man known for crushing snakes.”
“Yes.” Rosalie smiled. “It is no mistake that I married a man who can help me win back my inheritance.”
Rosalie looked at Nathan then, and the look she gave him was like nothing he had ever seen before—not from her, not from anyone.
It was admiration.
Admiration mixed with a wild, darksomething.If he didn’t know better, he would think it was desire.
But there was absolutely no way that his wife desired him. It was part of the act, surely.
Surely.
And yet, it still lit him up in ways he hadn’t expected. His heart began to race, his palms began to sweat, and he felt a tightening in his lungs making it difficult to breathe. Rosalie’s eyes sparkled, and the wild, darksomethingsparkled in them.
It was definitely desire.
She is very, very good.
Lord Redfield, meanwhile, was looking slowly between Rosalie and Nathan. His piercing gray eyes flickered over the expression on Rosalie’s face then to Nathan, and whatever he saw there must have been convincing because at last, he seemed to relax.
“Can I offer you two a drink?” he asked, gesturing to the sideboard.
“That would be most welcome,” Nathan agreed, relief flooding him as well.
Lord Redfield went to the sideboard and took out a bottle of scotch which he poured into two snifters. After pausing for a moment, he poured a third snifter, and this one he handed to Rosalie before giving Nathan the second one.
That’s good, Nathan thought.He respects her if he’s pouring her a gentleman’s drink.
Nathan was sure that Rosalie had never had scotch before, but she didn’t betray any discomfort with the drink as she sniffed it.
“To our fathers,” Redfield said, raising his snifter high. “And to our surpassing them.”
Nathan and Rosalie clinked their glasses against his, and Nathan caught his wife’s eye. He tried to communicate—through what, slightly widened eyes?—that she should drink the scotch slowly, but she clearly didn’t understand because she threw back the drink just like Lord Redfield had done.
For a moment, Nathan was sure she was going to spit it out and start coughing. That’s certainly what he had done the first time he’d tried scotch. But Rosalie impressed him: she didn’t cough or spit it out, but her eyes did water.
“Excellent vintage,” he said quickly to distract Redfield.
“Yes, it was my father’s,” Redfield said. “He had excellent taste in scotch.”
“I heard he also had excellent taste in opium.” It was a bold opening, but Nathan thought it was worth the risk. He was the Beast of Carramere, after all, and the Beast of Carramere was not afraid of a bold opening.
Redfield set his snifter down on the nearest end table and looked Nathan over thoughtfully.
“Ahh,” he said slowly. “So that is why you are here. I thought that it couldn’t just be to introduce me to your new bride.”
“No,” Nathan agreed. “I am here to discuss business.”
