All the Kincaide ladies leaned forward, excited. Addie winked at her and said, “The Den is hosting another ball in ten days. It will be like the ball they hosted at the beginning of the season. They are calling it the Ball of Sin. You will attend and I will notify Sam you are seeking a lover.”
Clara had heard of the Den, a gentlemen’s club run out of the Merry Estate. It had only recently opened at the beginning of the season. The scandalous place was immensely popular with both lords and ladies seeking lovers. She hadn’t heard very many details, but she could not fathom attending any ball at such an establishment. She shook her head furiously. “I couldn’t.”
“You must,” Mercy said already on Addie’s side.
“I know nothing about places like the Den. What if someone believes I am actually seeking a lover?” Clara said in a whisper.
Addie chuckled. “You are seeking a lover, just one who also happens to be your husband.”
Sophia clapped excitedly. “What a wonderful idea!”
Annie looked at them all dubiously. “I’m not sure this is for the best. It borders on ridiculous.”
Addie rolled her eyes. “Being ridiculous is sometimes necessary. What else would you suggest? If he returns, he cares for her more than a friend and if not, Clara gets to have an adventure. I will be there and will make sure no harm comes to her.”
Annie sighed. “I don’t think Sam can be baited or tricked into revealing how he feels.”
“What harm is there in trying?” Addie asked.
“Would I actually have to go to the ball?” Clara asked.
“Of course!” Sophia, Addie, and Mercy said in unison. Annie rolled her eyes.
Clara couldn’t believe she was considering attending such a scandalous ball. Could she really do that?
“How will I even get an invitation?”
“We will make sure you secure one. As you likely remember we all lived there before it was a club. We still have a relationship with the owners,” Mercy said.
Annie sighed, not nearly as excited as everyone else but willing to help. “Miller would probably help.”
Addie clapped her hands. “Then the trap is set. Once Clara has received an invitation, I will send word to Sam.”
Clara couldn’t believe she was going along with such an outlandish idea. Still, a part of her was curious what Sam Kincaide would think.
~
Sam read the letter again in disbelief.
Sam,
Clara is truly enjoying her freedom. In seven days, she plans to attend the Ball of Sin at the Den. As you seem to be a very indulgent husband, I imagine this is not a matter of concern for you, but I still wanted to let you know.
Lady Hawley
He crumbled it up and scowled. His wife, the most proper lady in all of London, was planning to attend Devons’ ball. Damn it! He wanted her to have freedom, but he didn’t mean to indulge in highly improper balls. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t sure what he was more annoyed about, that he couldn’t get his wife out of his thoughts or the fact she seemed to be perfectly content living separate lives. Well, he could have himself a good time as well. He rose from his office chair, pulling on his jacket. He was going out. It was time he stopped playing the monk.
A short time later, he entered Milly’s tavern and smiled at every serving girl he passed. Fury flowed in his veins at the thought of Clara, his wife, attending the Ball of Sin. Did that make him a hypocrite? Likely, as he attended Devons’ first ball, but he damn well didn’t care. He plopped himself down at the same corner table he sat at most nights. Tonight, was different. He smiled and joked with the serving girls who came his way. He knew how to put on the charm and quickly they were all fighting to bring him his drinks. He drank until his vision started to blur as he tried to pick one to spend his time with. Visions of Clara flashed in his mind, infuriating him more. Finally, not wanting to admit defeat, he just picked one randomly and gently pulled her into his lap. She happily slung her arms around him.
“Hello, luv,” she said.
Sam felt her warm body pressed against his, and he thought, yes, this is what I need. He hadn’t really focused on whom he pulled down, but he finally lifted his head to look at her face. She was lovely, and any other time he would have been happy to spend an evening with her. Tonight though, her blonde hair reminded him of Clara and her brown eyes made him wish they were blue like Clara’s. He pulled her head down for a kiss and felt nothing when their lips met. She wiggled and stroked his chest, but it did nothing for him. He sighed and lifted her, placing her on her feet.
“This won’t work,” he said gently.
She looked at him, startled, and then her eyes narrowed. “Is there something not to your liking?”
Sam glanced down at her form, and he laughed. She was exquisite, and he was in hell. She scowled at him, and he said, “I’m sorry. It isn’t you. My mind is elsewhere.”
