Page 41 of Dangerous

“Yes, it belonged to the Sultan Babba Hassan. There were more than sixty of us when he died and his son Assad seized control—which was why I had to leave. Most of the wives with children did not survive Assad’s purge unless they escaped.” Mia realized what she’d said a moment too late.

“This Assad, why was he a danger to you if you had no children?”

Mia twisted her large emerald wedding ring as she carefully considered her words. “Even though I was part of Babba Hassan’s household for almost seventeen years, I was still viewed as an outsider by many. When a new sultan takes power, it is only wise that he clear away any who might create trouble or cause others to question his power. Like his father before him, Assad was only acting in a manner designed to secure his power.”

Octavia’s eyes were almost comically round. “There has been much written of the Barbary corsairs these past ten years. It is shocking how many people they have abducted. I understand it is not unusual for them to—”

“I am so glad to finally meet you, Lady Exley,” a low, sultry voice purred.

Mia looked up to find Susannah St. Martin smiling down at her, her full, shapely lips curved in a welcoming smile that didn’t extend to her blue eyes, which were as hard as the sapphires she wore around her neck.

“Susannah.” Octavia stood up and so did Mia. Even standing she had to look up at the Junoesque blonde woman. Would she always be the shortest person in any room?

“Octavia, my dear, I’m having such a wonderful time. I just wanted to meet the new bride.” Susannah draped her plump arms around Octavia, who received her embrace rather woodenly.

“What a surprise to see you here tonight, Susannah.” Octavia’s normally warm smile was fixed.

The blonde woman did not appear to notice. “I am always at wit’s end between shows.” She spoke to Octavia but her eyes roamed up and down Mia’s body. A look designed to convey her open disdain. “I have heard so much about you, Lady Exley.” Her sly smile suggested most of it had been learned while naked in bed with Mia’s husband. “I suppose you have not heard nearly as much about me?”

“No. Not much,” Mia agreed. “But I do know you were once my husband’s mistress.” She spoke so softly the other woman’s brow furrowed, as if she must have misheard. “I also know he is finished with you but too well-mannered to tell you in a way you will understand.” The woman’s smile had frozen into a rictus of surprise. “As you may have heard, I have been away from England for a very long time. I’m afraid I’ve picked up some rather savage habits and lack my husband’s lovely manners.” Mia allowed the built-up anger of the last few months to settle in her gaze. “If you approach me or my husband again, I will see to it that you are no longer able to conduct business—of any kind—in London, ever again.” Mia held out her hand. “I understand you are an actress?”

The woman nodded, her mouth ajar.

“Consider this an opportunity to exhibit your talents. Smile, take my hand, and act as if you are finished congratulating me on my marriage. You will then approach your friend and act as though you have a headache and wish to leave.”

Maybe the beautiful blonde saw something in Mia’s eyes to back up her threat. Or maybe she believed a marchioness really did have the power to end her theater career. Either way, she smiled, dropped Mia a curtsy, and left.

Mia turned to Octavia, who stared for a long moment before laughing. “My dear Lady Exley, you will never know how much I enjoyed that.” She took Mia’s arm and squeezed it, her eyes shining with admiration. “Don’t look now, but Adam is watching and appears more than a little concerned.”

Chapter Fourteen

The ride back to Exley house was uneventful. Adam wondered if Mia might confront him about Susannah and then realized that was a ridiculous concern. Their marriage was a business arrangement; his wife would hardly be jealous of his ex-lover.

As it was, she’d been very pleasant, chatting about the people she’d met and the quality of the play, which Adam had found unusually poor. The night was still early when they arrived home. Far too early to drag his wife up to bed and roger her silly, no matter how much he might want to.

“Would you care to join me for a drink in the library?” he asked after they’d divested themselves of cloaks, hats, and gloves.

“That would be nice.”

Adam crossed to the large silver tray that held an assortment of decanters. “Shall I ring for tea or do you prefer something a bit stronger?” He opened one of the decanters and recoiled at the sugary smell that assaulted his nostrils.

“I’ll have whatever you are having—as long as it is not that.” She moved away to look at the books on the nearest wall while he located a dry, pleasing Madeira and poured two glasses.

“I hope this will suit.”

She took the glass and sipped, smiling at him before turning back to the shelves.

“I am enjoying Gulliver’s Travels. I read several chapters this afternoon and recall quite a bit of it.”

Her inadvertent confession as to how she’d spent her afternoon sent ripples of guilt through him. While he was off pursuing his own pleasure, his wife was living a lonely existence, isolated and friendless in her new home—this cold pile of stone.

“My brother has been teaching me piquet. Do you know it?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Adam raised his glass to hide his smile. “I am familiar with piquet. Would you care for a rubber or two?”

“I should like to play very much. Although . . .” A small line formed between her brows.

“Yes?”