Page 27 of The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke

He lifted his brow. Not a mouse’s voice that. “Yes.”

“May Charlotte and I visit? It is Heath’s wife, Julia, and my cousin-in-law. I won’t stay long.”

Ah, Julia, the wife of his host, Lord Heath. She was definitely not the sort of lady to accost a strange man in his sleep. Her husband appeared to be another matter. Adrian grinned as he remembered the scandal this red-haired viscount’s daughter had caused Heath right before their marriage last year. London had been at turns shocked and delighted when she had sketched his disreputable parts as a cartoon of Apollo and then lost her drawing, only to discover it printed in the broadsheets of the city.

“Please come in, Julia.”

“Good. You are awake,” she said in relief. “And famished, I expect. Would you like your valet sent up to shave you before or after breakfast? He’s been here all morning with your personal belongings. I’ve kept a plate of bacon and eggs warm for you. I never thought to see you laid low, Adrian.”

He leaned his head back against the demeaning piece of furniture. What he would have liked was to see Emma standing behind Julia, rather than her comely blond companion who had not lowered her blue eyes quickly enough for him to perceive the laughter in them.

He sighed. Just because he had promised that he would not remind Emma of the Evening-That-Had-Never-Happened didn’t mean he couldn’t hope for another chance. He was suddenly irritated at how easily he had alienated her affections with his untimely bid for intimacy.

“Lord Wolverton?” Julia asked, apparently concerned by his lapse of attention. “Shall I send for the doctor? Have you taken a queer turn?”

“Perhaps I should summon Lady Lyons,” Charlotte said from the door.

“Wait,” Julia said, her eyes full of mischief. “She’s teaching table manners this morning. You know how she dislikes to be interrupted in the middle of such crucial instruction.”

Table manners. Adrian suppressed a grin. He could just hear her refined voice now as she drilled her debutantes on the importance of not impaling their peas with a knife.

“Lord Wolverton,” Julia said again, a little more sharply this time. “Let me look at your eyes.”

He blinked. She was a tall, commanding woman and apparently not one to be ignored. Heath Boscastle had allegedly been in love with her for years but had almost lost her when he went to war. Now that he reflected upon it, Adrian seemed to recall that Julia’s love affair with Heath had been sparked after she’d shot him in the shoulder. He assumed it had been an accident. He couldn’t be entirely sure. The Boscastles tended to marry strong-hearted mates, which would contribute to perpetuating their passionate line.

“Why do you want to look at my eyes?” he demanded suddenly of Julia.

“To judge how responsive you are.”

“I’m responding to you well enough now, aren’t I?”

Julia raised her brow. “You know, Charlotte, it might not be a bad idea to fetch Emma, after all.”

“Why?” Charlotte asked in amusement.

“Because she is accustomed to dealing with the recalcitrant.”

“And the socially hopeless,” Charlotte added, her mouth curving into a grin.

“I beg your pardon,” Adrian said. “Have the pair of you come here to make fun of me?”

“We’re only thinking of your welfare,” Julia said lightly.

“My welfare.” Had he been away from England so long that women had become liberal in expressing their opinions? Or was this a particular influence of the Boscastle men? Not that he’d given the matter deep thought, but if he ever married, he might appreciate a woman who wasn’t afraid of her own shadow. Or of him.

Marriage. He supposed it would be expected of him if he chose to accept his legacy. Breeding sons and horses came as part of the package, and it wasn’t an unpleasant prospect for the future.

“Recalcitrant,” he muttered. “Hopeless.”

Julia laughed. “Perhaps the last was an exaggeration. But you have to understand that my sister-in-law is the family’s caretaker, and well, we’re all a bit intimidated by her.”

“A bit?” Charlotte, said, laughing.

Intimidated? Adrian smiled to himself. In a certain light he could see how Emma would intimidate. He’d been a little afraid of her until they were alone and she had softened, let down her guard.

“What she means,” Charlotte said, “is that Emma lavishes her attention intensely on those of us in whom she perceives a deficit.”

Another person entered the room before Adrian could reflect upon this revelation. He glanced up in the hope that it might be Emma herself, come to lavish attention on him. It was her brother, Heath.