Page 54 of The Luckiest Lady in London

He touched her like this from time to time, decorously, always before an audience, and always with just a hint of loverly familiarity: a hand on the small of her back, a nudge with his shoulder, and once, a playful tug on her hat ribbon as he passed her.

She knew why he made such gestures. Without ever consulting each other, they played a pair of secretly devoted lovers, as if they’d been colleagues in the same theatrical production for years upon years.

She peered at him from underneath her eyelashes, the pad of her index finger alighting upon a still-wet button on his shirt. “Maybe.”

Their gazes held for a moment. Twin arrows of lust and pain pierced her person. It would be so much easier if he weren’t such a good actor—if in one brief look he didn’t make her feel as if he would give up his entire fortune for one night with her.

“My, my, Felix, what delicious dishabille!”

Startled, Louisa looked toward the speaker, a striking, raven-haired woman in a gown of burgundy and gold stripes.

Lady Tremaine. Back from her man-sampling up north.

She approached Lord Wrenworth, her gloved hands outstretched. “What is this, Felix? I go off for a few weeks and come back to find you married?”

Felix. Appalling intimacy, when everyone else, even his oldest friends, thought it quite adequate to adhere to his title or some variant thereof.

He did not seem to mind at all. “My dear,” he said to Louisa, “allow me to present the Marchioness of Tremaine. Lady Tremaine, Lady Wrenworth.”

The two women shook hands.

“We are so glad you could come, Lady Tremaine,” said Louisa. “And did you find the…charms of Scandinavia as delightful as you had hoped?”

Something flickered in Lady Tremaine’s eyes, as if she hadn’t expected such a cheeky question from the country bumpkin her former lover had married. “The salmon was certainly of exceptional quality everywhere. And may I tender my congratulations on your marriage. I am sure Lord Wrenworth is an exceedingly fortunate man to have won your hand.”

“He thanks his lucky stars every day,” Louisa said sweetly. She turned to him. “My dear, best change before you catch a chill.”

And then, to Lady Tremaine, “I’m sorry we didn’t have advance notice of your visit. But shall we get you settled?”

* * *

Later that afternoon, another guest arrived, an expected one this time, but one as unwelcome to Felix as Lady Tremaine must be to his wife.

Drummond.

The man had an uncanny nose for marital discord—and rarely hesitated to take advantage of a wife’s displeasure with her husband to present himself as everything the poor sod wasn’t. Such tendencies had scarcely mattered to Felix when he was a bachelor. And would have scarcely mattered to him as a married man, had he and his wife remained cocooned in erotic bliss.

But erotic bliss did not characterize the state of his marriage. And as Drummond monopolized Louisa after dinner, Felix felt as if he were an incarcerated convict who could only rattle the bars of his prison with impotent frustration as another man circled his wife, getting ready to exploit his absence.

“Well, tell me,” said Lady Tremaine, pulling his attention back to her. “Why did this girl succeed whereas so many before her have failed?”

She had beckoned him to her earlier; they stood in a corner of the drawing room, half separated from the rest of the crowd by a Japanese screen.

He settled for a noncommittal reply. “Excellent timing?”

She appeared skeptical. “I thought you planned to marry the female equivalent of Lord Vere—tremendous looks and very little brain.”

Would that he’d adhered to that laudable plan. “And you believed me?”

“I had no reason not to. Many men like that kind of woman.”

“Obviously I decided against a dim-witted wife.”

“She is rather sharp, your lady.” She leaned forward an inch. “And how do you like married life, by the way, Felix?”

He had not thought much of Lady Tremaine’s unexpected arrival—this was where she was accustomed to spending half of her August, so why should she not have availed herself of his hospitality, when she found herself back in England sooner than expected? He also had not thought much of her interest in his sudden marriage—it would have come as quite a surprise to her, since the last time they spoke he’d had no idea himself that his bachelor days were coming to an end.

But now he was beginning to be a little wary. There was something in the tone of her voice. Perhaps it had been there since she stepped into Huntington, but he’d been first too distracted by his wife’s touch on his shirt button, and then even more distracted by the sight of her smiling at Drummond, her fan fluttering prettily.