Page 16 of Too Wicked for Heaven

This time Althea’s blush wasn’t so marked. In fact, she was stiff with outrage. “Do you mean to tell me someone has taken a perfectly innocent word and turned it into . . . into . . .” She gave a snort of disgust. “No wonder that horrible man laughed even louder when I volunteered to show him my garden.”

Neville nearly choked on his brandy. “What in God’s name was Kensingham’s reaction to that?”

She shot him an irate glance. “He told them my garden was inaccessible, then sent me off to find Theresa. At the time, I couldn’t imagine why he was making such a fuss over our gardens.”

“Now you know why.”

She was silent a moment. Then her face clouded. “I hesitate to ask this, but what is a House of Civil Reception?”

He shot her a keen glance. “A brothel.” When she winced, he asked gently, “What did you think it was?”

“Something like the House of Commons, I suppose. I wasn’t quite sure.”

“I’m sure most of the House of Commons would prefer to meet at a House of Civil Reception,” he muttered.

She ignored that and leaned forward, her expression worried. “What is a cock-loft?” When he spewed brandy into his glass, she looked sadly at him and added, “It’s not the place where chickens are kept, is it?”

Coughing violently, he shook his head. When he had control of himself, he said, “The word meant that once. But now it’s used . . . well, it means the same thing as ‘garden.’“

A look of distress crossed her face. “Oh, merciful heavens, then I’m afraid I’ve said an awful thing.”

He held his breath. “What did you say? And to whom?”

“I . . . you see . . . I was trying to pay Lady Merryweather a compliment. And so I . . . I told her that one of Uncle’s friends said she had a fine cock-loft.”

This time he couldn’t stifle the amusement in his voice. “You said that to Lady Merryweather? My God, she’s as prudish in public as she is promiscuous in private! I hope you didn’t say it in front of anyone.”

“Only her husband,” she said in a small voice.

He couldn’t keep back the laughter that bubbled out of him. “Her husband? Her bloody husband?”

“It’s not funny!” She looked close to tears. “I-I had no idea what I was saying, don’t you see? It’s so hard to make polite conversation when you don’t know anything and you’re never out in society.”

One look at her face and his laughter faded. “I know. But I swear I’m beginning to feel sorry for your uncle. How on earth have you acquired this colorful vocabulary when as you say, you’ve never been out in society?”

With a sigh, she dropped her gaze from his. “Until recently, I rarely left Kensingham Hall, but Uncle sometimes came home and brought his friends. And I trailed after them all. You know, as Isabella and I did with you and your friends.”

She toyed with the braided trim on her gown. “Anyway, whenever Uncle’s friends knew I was around, they made small talk, but . . . well, it was so dull at Kensingham that when they stayed up late to play cards, I often sat on the stairs and listened to their conversations. They never knew.”

Worry darkened her pretty eyes as she met his gaze. “Still, if I’d had any idea how . . . shockingly improper his friends were, I’d never have repeated anything I heard them say. But Uncle Winston is such a moral man himself, so careful of the proprieties and so prudish, that I never dreamed his friends were saying such⁠—”

“Kensingham?” Neville interrupted with a laugh. “Prudish? A moral man? By Judas, your uncle certainly kept you in the dark, didn’t he?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your uncle is anything but prudish, my dear. In fact, many consider him as much of a rake as I.”

“You jest!” she said in disbelief.

“Nay. Ask anyone.” He settled back against the chair, surprised that she’d had no idea of her uncle’s true character. “When Kensingham isn’t with you, he’s as randy and hot-blooded as the next bachelor. He’s so charming with the ladies that they call him ‘Winsome Winston.’ Now that he’s planning to marry, I’m sure he’s curbed his activities. But before that, I assure you, he visited the House of Civil Reception often enough to have a passing acquaintance with its inhabitants.”

Pure shock filled her face. “How can that be? If he were as disreputable as all that himself, he wouldn’t be risking his life to save my reputation⁠—”

“For God’s sake, Althea, this duel isn’t about your reputation. Kensingham is merely furious with himself for not watching over you better, and he’s taking it out on me.”

She shook her head. “It’s more than that. He hates you. It was you he objected to more than anything.”

“That’s true. He’s furious at me because of—” He broke off, realizing he’d said too much.