Page 26 of The Marquess of Secrets

“No, my lord. Not in any way. In fact, I would categorize it as unhealthy.”

“You agree to the exchange of secrets?”

She gulped. “Yes.”

He sat by her bed, and his wonderful spicy scent filled her senses, making her slightly dizzy.

“Then allow me to reveal first. Until recently, I kept a mistress. Set her up in a fancy townhouse for more than three years. It was a ruse.” He crossed his long legs. “Oh, I visited her occasionally, but on the whole, she supplied a ready excuse for my many absences.”

Did he expect her to react?

Surely, he wasn’t proposing she step in as his mistress?

Lydia waited and kept looking straight ahead. The marquess sitting so near made her nervous. Not for her safety, but certainly for her peace of mind. Since she left John Huntsford, her nerves were frayed.

Why was she reacting to this man?

Lydia was well aware of the varied physical reactions of attraction: the tumbling insides, the rush of excitement, the accelerated heartbeat. She was experiencing all of these.

Not wise. Not at all.

“Did I haunt opium dens?” he continued. “Brothels? Gambling houses? No, those vices of the upper classes bored me in my early twenties. I indulged a few times, enough to give me a reputation. I decided to use the reputation as a cover. I even kept my secret life from my family.” He crossed his arms. “Your turn, Miss Chesterton. Quid pro quo.”

What? Why did he leave his story there? Frustrating man.

“You do know what that means?” he asked.

At least his tone was not condescending.

“I do. My father was a schoolmaster. I understand a little Latin. It means ‘this for that.’ I will return the exchange.”

“Did your father also teach you Greek? I ask because within your bundle was a copy of Republic by Plato. It must be a prized possession if you hauled it about London with you.”

“Yes, my late father taught me many things. Greek included. It’s a prized possession because it was his. My father tried to instill common sense along with his lessons. It did not take. I became involved with a man that has ruined my life.”

Lydia sighed. “But the fault does not all lie with him. The signs were there for me to read. I chose to ignore them. Because when my father died, I was left alone. I did not want to be alone. As a result, I gave all my love and attention to a man who did not deserve it.”

The marquess stood, and out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he pulled his gold watch from his waistcoat pocket and opened it. He then snapped it shut and returned it to his pocket.

“Unfortunately, I am expected at Westminster today. I’ve plans tonight and will not return until late. We will continue this conversation tomorrow.”

His spicy scent contained a hint of cloves. Lydia had always liked that scent.

“But you’re not going to a brothel or gambling den as some would believe. Are you, my lord?”

“No. I’m not.”

Lydia met his gaze. Staring back at her were the most mesmerizing silver-gray eyes fanned by incredibly long lashes, the same shade of dark brownish-black as his hair.

He gave her a slight bow. “I bid you good afternoon, Miss Chesterton.”

The marquess left the room.

It hit her. The revelation so startling she gasped.

Lydia had seen those eyes before. The exact same penetrating gaze.

The voice was similar now that she thought about it.