“Worse than what? Dancing?”
Susan rolled her eyes. “Of course, worse than dancing. He lied about going to sleep, didn’t he? He might be up to evil after all.”
“You said you were going to sleep, but here you are in my bedchamber, seated before my fire.”
“I never sleep, so if I say so, then of course, I’m lying. Old men sleep all the time. I would’ve thought I could at least take Teasdale at his word.” She shrugged deeper into the chair. “Well, there’s still Heatherbrook’s worthless cousin, Edmund Rutherford. He’s an easy enough sort to read, wastrel that he is. I imagine he’s still in the men’s after-dinner room, drinking Lioncroft out of port.”
Evangeline shook her head. “The men’s after-dinner room was the library, which was absent of both port and Mr. Rutherford. The footman refilling the decanter said they’d cleared up the glasses as the men left to rejoin us.”
“I knew it,” Susan cried, jerking upright in the chair as she clapped her hands together. “Scandal is afoot!”
“It is?” Evangeline fought another blush. It most certainly was, but she had no intention of discussingherscandalous behavior. She hadn’t even meant to come upon the sinfully handsome man, let alone shiver against him as he devoured her with kisses.
“Yet another liar,” Susan crowed. “Edmund must have known there was neither port nor glass to drink it in, and invented his mission back to the library as a cover for some other, more dastardly deed.”
“Maybe he simply tired of dancing,” Evangeline suggested.
“Ha. A reprobate like him? No doubt he was en route to or from an assignation. Besides dancing, assignations are house parties’ primary allure.”
“Whatis?”
“Love-making with other guests,” Susan clarified matter-of-factly. “Secretly, of course.”
This time Evangeline couldn’t staunch the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks and neck. Had she been a baser sort of woman—or Mr. Lioncroft a less considerate sort of man—she herself might’ve been one of that number earlier tonight.
“Bah, don’t be missish,” Susan scoffed, thankfully misinterpreting Evangeline’s blush as something other than guilt. “Assignations are atonstaple. I only wonder who was lonely enough to rut with a rotter like Edmund. A servant, perhaps? Surely not a guest. Did you see where he got off to?”
“I never saw him at all. I didn’t actually see Benedict Rutherford, either, but I heard him coughing down one of the halls.”
“Aargh,” Susan groaned, startling Evangeline from her perch against the useless bookshelf. “If it’s to be my house, too, can’t I skulk about like everyone else? The only person I saw up to any mischief was Nancy, trying to sneak into her bedchamber and being laughably noisy about it. Although I suppose stealth hardly matters if she plans to marry a deaf old mummer like Teasdale.” Her shoulders shook in a dramatic shudder. “Next time you wander the corridors alone, you absolutely must invite me to accompany you. Where was Francine? By her husband’s side, as she claimed?”
“No, she was…” Evangeline thought back. “She was outside Mr. Lioncroft’s office, I think. I’m not quite sure.”
“Yet another assignation,” Susan breathed, eyes alight behind her spectacles. “I suspected as much.”
Evangeline’s stomach twisted. “Another…what?”
“Assignation. If you recall, I mentioned the Rutherfords and I have some unfortunate history. Trust me when I say I am not the least bit surprised to discover Francine taking her pleasure with Lioncroft. She can’t resist the scent of power, and Lioncroft positively reeks of it.”
Ice slid beneath Evangeline’s skin, covering her arms with gooseflesh. Had Mr. Lioncroft left the hallway where they’d kissed, only to make love to an over-rouged Francine Rutherford? Or, worse, had he already done so before she’d unwittingly entered his office in the first place?
Gagging, Evangeline thrust a fist to her lips and shuddered. She was the worst kind of fool. Her initial suspicion that Mr. Lioncroft was no better than her philandering sot of a stepfather was correct after all.
“Oh!” Susan leapt from the chair and rushed to Evangeline’s side. “You look like you’re going to be ill. Truly, you must learn not to be so missish about who does what with whom.I’mnot upset she’s the secret paramour of my fiancé-to-be. He can keep her as his mistress even after we marry, as far as I’m concerned. The less he forces his husbandly attention upon me, the better.”
Evangeline bit at the knuckle of her first finger until she drew blood. How could she have been so stupid?
She’d liked his attention. Encouraged him. Hadn’t she learned from her mother’s example that just because a woman was unable to experience visions of a man’s misdeeds in no way implied the man in question was absent of them?
“Truly…” Susan patted Evangeline’s shoulder, her voice uncharacteristically concerned. “Are you quite all right? Mother says I never know when to curb my tongue. I should like to be friends with you, not send you into a fit of the vapors after only a minute or two of my conversation.”
Evangeline dropped her fists to her sides and forced a wan smile. She opened her mouth to assure Susan of their continued friendship when a series of loud staccato screams ripped across the silent mansion and echoed through the chambers.
“Aaahh!” Susan bounced on her heels like a pony itching to race across a field. “Something’s happening! Come, come, I shan’t miss it!”
“Go without me.” Evangeline backed up until the bookcase dug into her spine. Screams were never good. They brought back too many memories better left buried.
Susan gaped at her, as if staying put was hardly an option. “What did I just say? If we skulk, we skulk together. Whyever would I leave without you?”
