Lucia gave him a sheepish grin. “I hadn’t thought that far in advance.”
“I see.” He clenched and unclenched his hands. “And if I had not been in the library tonight, then what would you have done?”
“I suppose I would have searched for your bedroom.”
Alex arched a brow, and Lucia had the good sense to lower her eyelids.
“And if I was not alone?”
She tapped a finger to her lips. “I considered that, but I took a chance. Men usually install their mistresses in separate residences. I reasoned if you were at home, you’d probably be alone.”
Alex’s mind reeled. Good God, where did she come up with these notions?
“You think I have a mistress?” he choked out.
“Yes.” She nodded confidently. “It’s common knowledge.”
“Is it?” He leaned back in the chair.
“Yes,” she said, sounding impatient. “That’s the reason you’re always away—on the Continent.”
Alex stared at her. “Because I can’t get a woman here?”
“No! Of course not!” She waved a hand in exasperation. “Because your mistress is French!”
Alex threw back his head and laughed. He could always count on the gossips of the ton to entertain him. There was still a trace of laughter in his voice when he said, “Thank you. This has been vastly entertaining.”
She gave him a frosty stare. “Am I to assume then that you do not have a mistress?”
“They come and go. I told you before, I don’t like entanglements.” He grinned. “But, as I am in between ladies, would you like the part?”
Lucia gasped, her mouth opening and closing like that of a hooked fish. “You rake!”
“Don’t sound so shocked, sweetheart. If you’re going to quiz me so . . . intimately, you have to expect me to take some liberties.”
“And I told you before I wouldn’t be part of one of your rakish schemes.” She tossed her curls. “I have nothing more to say, sir.”
“Oui, che´rie, I think you do. I think you have even more questions inside that beautiful head, just burning to be let out. Ask away. I’m in a mood to be obliging.”
She curled her lip. “You’re drunk.”
“Not yet.” He spread his arms. “But if I were, I’d be an obliging drunk. Unlike your fiancé, I might add.”
“Oh, God! Don’t even mention Reginald.” She covered her eyes with a hand. “I should go.”
He reached out and grasped her waist as she rose. “Sit down, Lucia. You’ll go when I say.”
She gave him a dubious look, eyed the door, then the window, and sat down again. Alex rose. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with her, but she wasn’t leaving yet. “Stay here. Do not move from that spot. If you do—” He left the rest to her imagination as she seemed to enjoy exercising it.
With a last glance at the mulish expression on her face, he walked out of the library and closed the door.
LUCIA SAT STILL FOR approximately seven seconds before she tiptoed to the door. She pressed her ear to the door, then opened it when his footsteps receded. She wouldn’t leave the library; she just wanted a peek at the rest of his house.
The house was silent, not a click of shoes or a rattle of silver. Then, muted but unmistakable, Lucia heard the tinkle of a woman’s laugh. Lucia froze. The servants? She heard the ripple of laughter again.
That was no servant. Lucia hugged the wall all the way from the library to the glittering entryway. When she reached the marble staircase, polished and shining under the cut-crystal chandelier above her, she crouched down and listened. When she heard a low voice, she padded across the foyer to the dining room door. She was completely exposed in the middle of the blazing entryway, and her heart skipped and raced in her chest. The door was not shut completely, and she poked it with two fingers, nudging it open a bit further. Lord, she dared not look inside.
“Oh cher, must I go? I have missed you terribly,” a woman said. “I promise not to be any trouble.”
