Page 73 of The Luckiest Lady in London

“I suppose he could be a cousin or an uncle,” she answered. “Wait—Lord Firth once told me that neither of his parents had siblings who survived childhood.”

Felix could almost hear his heart plummet.

Her brow furrowed. “But then again, Miss Edwards had a different mother. And her mother could very well have living male relatives.”

He nodded, trying to look only marginally concerned.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry; what were you saying about London?”

“That there is a lecture that we can attend that might address the paucity of proof for the existence of aether.”

Could this really be the end of the matter?

“That does sound interesting,” she said, her tone making it plain that her thoughts were still largely preoccupied with something else.

He held his breath. Should he say something to distract her, or should he absolutely refrain from such a tactic, lest he appear to be deliberately changing the subject?

She stared out the window for a few seconds. They passed an ironmonger’s shop, a penny bazaar, and a bakery.

Abruptly, she looked back at him. “By the way, I never asked you, but how did you come to know that Miss Edwards and her brother are lovers? I would imagine it isn’t something they would let anyone, even the servants, witness.”

Now he prayed that he was as good a liar as he believed himself to be. “When I was still at university, years ago, I was invited to shoot grouse in Scotland one year. Lord Firth and Miss Edwards happened to be at the same shooting party.

“You know I keep a somewhat irregular schedule. So at half past three one morning, I opened my door, intending on an hour or so of observation outside, with a portable telescope I’d brought. And whom should I see stepping out of Miss Edwards’s room down the hall, still fastening his trousers, but her half brother.”

She grimaced. “Right, of course.”

Then, unexpectedly, she kissed him on his cheek. “Thank you,” she said, with a rather weak smile. “I would hate to have married him.”

* * *

Once upon a time, all he wanted was to reduce her to a state of unbearable sexual arousal.

Then, possible revelations on Miss Edwards’s part would have earned a shrug from him, plus a redoubled effort to cheat, lie, and steal his way to what he wanted. The Felix Wrenworth of that era would scarcely recognize himself today, a man in love, a man who blanched at the thought that his bride would think less of him.

Yet it was now that Miss Edwards cropped up, a reminder from the gods that acts of hubris never went unpunished.

By the next afternoon he had collected various intelligence concerning her reason for being in Derbyshire. He didn’t particularly like what he learned, but the silver lining was that Miss Edwards was expected to leave the country before the end of the year.

He didn’t anticipate that Miss Edwards would call on his wife, but he didn’t want to take that chance. Nor did he want to take the chance that Louisa might run into Miss Edwards again, this time without him. Thank goodness he had happened to mention the lecture in London. He would bring that up again. It should not be too difficult to persuade Louisa to attend an astronomical lecture. And once they were in London, he’d keep her there until they must return to host the Christmas house party.

By then Miss Edwards would be gone and he would be safe.

Chapter 16

The travel plans fell into place with surprising speed, once Lord Wrenworth recommended that they could first visit the Cantwells in their new house before heading off to London.

Louisa could not turn down such an opportunity. She missed dear Matilda. She missed everyone. She even missed Julia’s indignant yowl as Cecilia dragged her by the ear from one room to the next.

She anticipated a wonderful time with her family, and perhaps a wry amusement watching her husband resume the mantle of The Ideal Gentleman, a phenomenon she had not witnessed in weeks upon weeks.

She did have a wonderful time with her family at the bright, tastefully furnished new house. And she did derive a wry amusement watching The Ideal Gentleman take the Cantwell women by storm again, leading Cecilia to opine that while she believed women the far superior gender, her brother-in-law made an outstanding representative for his sex.

What Louisa had not expected was the butterflies in the stomach that she experienced watching him wield that glossy allure of his, with an occasional sidelong glance at her as if to say, Remember this?

She did remember this feeling of being a coconspirator, of being in on a delicious secret that she would always keep to herself.

But he didn’t stop there. Even when they were in the privacy of their own room, he remained utterly winsome—droll, naughty, and faultlessly considerate. It made her realize that she had never experienced a direct charge of his monumental charm. Gone was the undercurrent of tension that had made her just slightly nervous since the night of the telescope. This particular incarnation of her husband wanted only to show her a marvelous time.