Charles didn’t blame him. Lady Pearse was vastly preferable to Hildie.
“Is your lack of interest in me because of Lady Aurora Sinclair?”
Charles stilled. “Excuse me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Really, Worthington. I saw her come out of the maze with that elderly harlot who serves as her chaperone. Hair in disarray. Cheeks pink. I’ll assume that was your doing. When she calls, you receive her.” Hildie’s tone was bitter. “Tell me, do you look at books together, as you were doing today?”
Charles kept his features bland. “Are you watching my house, Hildie? How desperate you are for attention.”
A blush stained Hildie’s cheeks and neck. She finally released his arm. “Lady Aurora isn’t the least discreet. But what can you expect, she’s barely more than a child.” A laugh burst from her. “I thought your tastes more refined.”
His fingers tightened on the wrapped package containing his books. If he hit her over the head would anyone take note? Or care? “Refined? Goodness, I tookyouas a lover, didn’t I?”
The blush darkened to crimson. “Tucked back on a bookshelf at Tate’s.” Her lips curled. “Her mother was a trollop and her sister little better, though Lady Tamsin managed to snare a duke. One who pays little attention to anything else but insects,” she trilled. “Some think him simpleminded.”
“He’s an entomologist,” Charles bit out. “Should I write that down so you may look up the word?”
“When I mentioned having seen Lady Aurora at Berriwell’s garden party to my cousin, drifting aimlessly about,brazenlyeyeing poor Lord Grisham, well, I heard all about your little tart’s pedigree. I confess, I knew the Sinclairs were laden in scandal, but I hadn’t imagined just how tainted they were.”
“Your cousin?” Honestly, he had rarely conversed with Hildie, preferring to keep their relationship to the physical and nothing else. He couldn’t recall who she was related to in society.
Her lips rippled in an ugly manner. “Lady Longwood. I could have sworn I’d mentioned her.”
She hadn’t. Not once. Charles wasn’t so self-absorbed that he wouldn’t recall the woman who’d nearly destroyed the family of his closest friend.
“You knew Andrew Sinclair was my business partner,” he stated quietly. “And never mentioned your relationship to Lady Longwood?”
“I’m sure I mentioned her.” A smug smile graced her lips. “Oh, that’s right. Sinclair is your business partner.”
Bitch.
“Perhaps I attempted to blot it out. Andrew Sinclair lives on afarmin Lincolnshire. Mucking about with his low-bred wife. The daughter of the town sot. Sinclair is probably fleecing that little backwater of what coin they possess. Good lord, Emerson was a pig farmer and is wed to Angus Whitehall’s daughter.” Hildie snorted. “Brother of Viscount Worthington or not, you’ll be judged by the company you keep.”
Charles didn’t doubt that Hildie and Lady Longwood would make sure of it.
“Good day, Lady Bryant.” He turned his back on her, determined not to give into his anger in the middle of the square where anyone could see them. Where Aurora could see them.
“Poor Worthington. Still broken hearted over sweet Cecily. Pity. Goodness, what a scandal. My cousin recalls it quite clearly. No wonder your brother keeps his distance.”
He swung back to Hildie, looming over her until she took a step back.
“You’re a horrible, vicious creature.” His smile was wide, despite the ice of his words. “Truth be told, you’re a bore, Hildie. Entirely predictable. Pathetic. Posing in front of a statue and begging me to lick your quim.” He gave an ugly laugh. “Such desperation. I wonder what the gossips would make of that?”
“You wouldn’t dare, Worthington.”
“Sour grapes, Hildie. That’s what everyone will say once they know I’ve refused your advances. How you crave me so much, you hide in wait outside my home to watch my comings and goings.”
Hildie sputtered.
“I’ll laugh, of course, and say it wasn’t unexpected. After all, you did chase me into Tate’s today. Begging me for an assignation. But do go conspire with Lady Longwood who everyone knows is unhinged by her hatred of Lord Emerson. Tell anyone who will listen you think the Duke of Ware is simple and weak. See what happens.”
Her lips tightened. “You will regret those words, Worthington.”
“Not half as much as knowing you, Hildie. I can’t believe I once thought you amusing.”
She made a horrible, strangled sound. If they hadn’t been in public, Hildie might well have screamed.
Charles rolled his shoulders and strolled off, books clutched tightly in one arm. He’d never once considered hitting a woman in his life, but Hildie could certainly be the first if he didn’t get away from her.
