Page 51 of Tempting Her Viscount

“Do you plan to marry her?” Gray asked.

Kit opened his mouth to explain how he’d asked—more than once, but Celia answered instead.

“No. That is, he’s offered—as any gentleman in this situation would do—but I’ve not accepted. I want to live my life on my own terms. As a widow, I have the freedom to do so. As a wife, I become property and my choices become limited to what my husband wishes of me. Why would anyone want to be part of such an unfair institution?”

“Perhaps we can speak in your study?” Kit suggested. “If you’ve given up on trying to kill me.”

“That might be best, though I cannot be certain the urge to dispatch you has completely diminished.”

Kit nodded, understanding a line had been crossed and their friendship might very well be forfeit.

“Brother?” Celia’s tone was brimming with clear warning.

Gray gave his sister a wide berth as he passed.

“If there’s so much as a scratch anywhere on his body, know I will see it and you will pay for it. Do you understand?” She raised a brow and tapped her index finger to her thumb in a rather menacing way.

“I’m definitely going to be ill. For the love of all that is holy, please stop insinuating the two of you will be…” He ended the sentence with an unsettling retching sound.

“Thank you for your protection, dear. I can handle it from here,” Kit said placing a kiss on her bare knuckles.

“Of course, darling. Enjoy your chat.” She reached up to kiss him on the edge of his jaw.

While he knew the gesture was done simply to provoke her brother, he smiled at the casual affection. He would miss her when their time together ended.

Or if Graham killed him.

And if he lived it still might very well end that night if she helped him find a potential bride. Or she found another lover…

In the study, Kit helped himself to the liquor cart and poured them each a brandy before sitting across from Gray.

“How did this come to be?” Gray asked dazedly.

“I’ll explain, but I ask that you hear the story as a friend. As a man who has dallied with his fair share of widows. And not as the brother of the woman I am currently dallying with.”

“But I am a brother, and if you use the word dallying again in regard to my sister, I’ll happily strangle you and let CeCe take my ear. I have a second one after all.”

“And I’ll remind you that some of those widows you’re fond of dallying with are also someone’s sister.”

Gray took a healthy swig of his drink. “Fine. I’m a friend.” He glared at Kit over his glass. “For now.”

“Very well, then. Celia and I—”

Gray shuddered and squeezed his eyes closed. He was clearly back to being a brother already. The only way through this was straight in, so Kit pushed on, ignoring the sounds of misery coming from the other man.

“Right. Perhaps if we pretended it was someone else,” he muttered to himself before trying again. “Selene and I met at Lady Harrington’s masquerade.” He selected her nom de plume.

“Celia was the French woman you were trying to find from Lady Harrington’s masquerade?”

“Yes.”

“What the devil was she doing there?” He stood to pace the room.

“She’d filched your invitation when it was clear you were too sick to attend and went herself.” He explained how Celia—make that Selene—had taken a private room and how Lady Harrington had selected him to meet with her.

“And you’re to tell me you didn’t recognize each other, even with masks?”

“My voice hadn’t returned fully from being ill. As far as she knew I wasn’t planning to attend because I’d said as much the morning we received our invitations. And she’d adopted an impressive French accent, lowered her voice, and called herself Selene. I surely wouldn’t have expected Celia to be at such a party. Not to mention the dim lighting in the room and the masks we both wore. So yes, I’m telling you we didn’t recognize one another.” He cleared his throat. “I can’t explain that night and I’m sure you’d just groan if I went into it, but as I’d explained to you afterward—before I realized Selene was Celia—my time with Selene was unlike any other. It was a feeling of intimacy I’d never experienced before. More than just the physical. It was…”