To Tempt a Scandalous Lord by Liana De la Rosa

Chapter Twenty-Two

For the third time that night, Alicia had lost track of the conversation happening around her. It was impossible to care about the gossip and banter when guilt, fear, and anger simmered like a noxious miasma in the center of her chest. So when Juliana’s casual shoulder bump snapped her back to the moment, she could only blink into Lady Ellis’s expectant eyes. “I do beg your pardon.”

The other woman laughed, a jaunty sound that complemented her beautiful face. “You seem quite distracted this evening, Lady Inverray. Are you well?”

Alicia willed her expression to remain impassive, even though she wanted to bare her teeth at her. Of all the days to have to face her husband’s former lover… “I apologize. I’m just a bit tired, but I thank you for your concern.”

“I remember those early days after my marriage to Ashwood. I was tired all the time,” Juliana shared, her lips stretching into a knowing smile.

The other ladies tittered, and Alicia slid her sister-in-law a grateful look. Despite how she clung to her turbulent emotions, the dinner had been a success, thanks in large part to Juliana’s and Charlotte’s presence. Their engaging conversation had kept Alicia from falling into a well of crushing guilt, and she’d managed to converse with the other guests as if their inane conversation had been all that was interesting.

Now, the ladies sat cloistered in the parlor, where they drank tea and discussed the latest gossip or fashion trend. Alicia tried not to watch the clock until the men finished their port or brandy or whatever temperance they engaged in. Once again, she wished she could join them, well aware that their conversations were more stimulating than the one she was currently subjected to. Not that she blamed the women in attendance for her boredom. Their conversation had been shaped by the cage they had been kept in, and soon every caged bird sang the same tune.

“You’re making me nervous with how you keep darting your eyes to the door,” Charlotte said.

She flinched. “I apologize. I suppose I’m just anxious for the men to rejoin us. How many snifters of brandy can they drink before they’re foxed or fall asleep?”

“They’re not so much drinking as gossiping.” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Whoever said women gossiped more than men was obviously a man.”

A gruff chuckle escaped her, and Juliana gave her a commiserating smile. “It’s silly to separate the men from the women after dinner. Don’t they have every other time of day to talk privately about politics or whatever topics they deem too sensitive for women’s ears? It’s an antiquated tradition, if you ask me.”

“People should be asking you,” Alicia grumbled, frowning down at her empty teacup. It suddenly represented all the old-fashioned and ridiculous norms she had to observe simply because they were traditions. Norms she had attempted to subvert to her painful penitence.

Suddenly, she longed to throw the delicate cup directly into the grate.

“Why such a long face? In my day, a future duchess would never scowl. She might earn herself early wrinkles.”

Alicia slid her gaze to the side and met the Duchess of Claremore’s stern blue eyes. She knew better than to show any weakness before the lioness. “I am simply anxious for my husband to return, Your Grace. I never realized how long the after-dinner routine was.”

“Of course you didn’t. You had no person worth pining for.”

A sob lodged in her throat. “Th-that’s not exactly—”

“If you’re thinking of correcting me, please don’t bother, dear Lady Inverray. Any person with half a bit of sense knows the marquess is just the sort of man one would pine over.”

Alicia could think of no argument to that.

“How have you liked being Lady Inverray?” the duchess inquired, sliding onto the settee between Alicia and Charlotte with a swiftness that was surprising for such an older woman.

Lud, this was not the conversation she wanted to engage in. “I have learned a great deal during my short marriage, and hope I’ve been a worthy companion to his lordship.”

Each word was acid on her tongue.

The Duchess of Claremore leaned forward to pat Alicia’s knee. “You are a clever chit. Inverray needs an intelligent wife, and I am vastly relieved to see the woman he married is such.”

“Relieved?”

“Of course I’m relieved,” the duchess snapped. “For all that young man does to help and protect others, he needs someone to protect him.”

Alicia dammed up her tears by a sheer force of will. She had thought she was protecting Niall…but she’d only lied to herself, and all in a failed effort to protect her own interests.

Juliana inclined her head. “I believe Niall has found the perfect partner to help him shoulder the weight of his many responsibilities. It’s obvious that he respects her a great deal.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen of them together, I’d say he feels a lot more than respect for her,” the older duchess volleyed.

Alicia’s mouth sagged. “W-what?”

The duchesses exchanged a look, but it was Charlotte who leaned forward with a smile. “Come now, Alicia dear. You’ve been lighting up Inverray like a thunderstorm in June since we met at that soiree.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, do catch up, my dear,” the Duchess of Claremore declared. “You are woefully behind.”

They thought Niall loved her?

How utterly laughable.

Any regard he held for her was smashed like a crystal vase on a cold stone floor when her secret was so cruelly revealed. Even now she could close her eyes and remember Niall’s face, his voice, his steely gaze as he told her he already knew she was the anonymous writer.

The entirety of her life she had wanted to belong. To have a purpose. And she’d finally found it through her political essays. And then she’d met Niall…had been forced to marry him…and that intangible thing she never even dreamed could be hers was suddenly a possibility: love.

Life had taught Alicia that love was not meant for her. Her love had killed her mother and brother. Her father had left her penniless and defenseless because he did not love her. Lindsay hadn’t loved her so much as he’d needed to possess her. Effia was a dear friend, but their friendship was entwined with a professional element. The only love she knew was that which Jane showed her. Of everyone in her life, Jane had been the most steadfast…and then perhaps only because she paid her wages. It was a depressing thought.

But for a while, at least, it had seemed possible she had earned Niall’s love. His gentle touch, the tender way he looked at her, his eagerness to spend time with her even when it would be wiser to utilize the clock to further his bid. He had even hinted he would not have stopped her from continuing to write her essays. And she had destroyed it all by trusting her instincts instead of her heart.

Shame turned her stomach.

Struggling to maintain her bearing, she lifted her chin and gazed at her friends. “To answer your question, Your Grace, it’s been…” Alicia cleared her throat. “We have not been married long, so of course we’re still adjusting to each other.”

The duchess tutted. “Adjustment is normal. There are times Claremore surprises me and we’ve been married for over forty years.”

She nodded. “If I’m surprised by anything during these weeks of our marriage, it’s that Niall is so much more of…everything than I could have imagined.”

At that moment, the parlor doors swung open and various gentlemen sauntered into the room. Alicia ignored all of them, only interested in one man.

When her eyes locked with Niall’s gray gaze, her chest grew tight. Gone was the affection that once shined in his eyes, leaving behind only apathy.

Still, Niall made his way to her side, bussing a circumspect kiss to her brow before greeting her friends.

“Inverray, your pretty bride was just telling us about married life,” the Duchess of Claremore said.

“Was she?” He did not look at her, focusing all his attention on the duchess. “We’ve only been married for a short time. Asking her to expound upon our marriage seems unfair.”

“And yet much of life is unfair, my dear boy.” The Duchess of Claremore patted his hand. A sight on the other side of the room snared her attention. “And there is the duke. If you will excuse me, my dears, I find myself quite ready to depart. If you were wise, I’m sure you all will do the same.”

Alicia pressed her lips together as she watched the elderly duchess join her duke on the other side of the room. Although they did not physically express their affection, she could see the long glances they exchanged. The way Claremore’s hand lingered on his wife’s waist. The manner in which she leaned close to speak in his ear.

There stood a couple very much in the prime of their love, despite their many years together. Tears burned the back of her eyes as she once again realized she had destroyed any chance she had to experience such with her husband.

Niall was staring at the duke and duchess as well, a deep groove between his dark brows and his hand clenched in a fist.

She struggled to swallow down the knot in her throat. “Niall,” she whispered, darting her gaze about to ensure no one heard her, “should we depart?”

He continued to look steadfastly away. “I believe that would be for the best.”

His tone was curt, and it made her stomach plummet further.

“Let me take my leave of Willingham, and I will meet you in the foyer.” Without another word, Niall walked away.

Alicia stared after his retreating back, an odd sense of déjà vu overwhelming her. They had made such progress in their relationship lately, and now they were back at the beginning. No, worse than the beginning. Because at least Niall respected her when they married. Now it was clear he despised her.

Stifling a sigh, she made her way about the room, saying goodbye to Juliana and Charlotte, as well as other ladies she knew.

But when it came time to thank her hostess, she couldn’t find Lady Willingham anywhere. A passing footman informed her the lady of the house was seen near the ladies’ retiring room, so Alicia made her way in that direction. She walked down the hall in a trance, uninterested in the tasteful decor lining the walls. As she passed by an open doorway, a voice called to her.

“Lady Inverray, a moment of your time, please.”

Alicia stumbled to a halt, although her mind encouraged her to run. She knew that voice, and she absolutely knew she did not want to speak with him. But if she ignored him, Matthews very well could ruin her in front of everyone in attendance.

Alicia forced her mien to remain impassive as she stepped over the threshold. In a leather armchair before the softly crackling fire sat Viscount Matthews. Encountering him on her own and in a dimly lit room raised all the hairs on the back of her neck.

“What is it, my lord?” She refused to enter the room further. “I thought you said everything you intended to earlier today.”

The viscount rose to his feet and sauntered to her, coming to a stop a mere arm’s length away. His blue eyes bore into her, and Alicia could not tell if he was angry with her for some unknown offense or if she was a riddle he’d not yet worked out.

“I want to inquire that you have begun work on your next…piece.”

Of course she hadn’t.

Niall had arrived home, and further turned her world on its head. But she would not reveal such to the viscount. Until she discussed the situation with her husband, she would pretend Niall was unaware of her identity.

Forcing down a swallow, she nodded. “I’ve begun to write an outline.”

“I am happy to hear it.” The viscount shook his head. “Thanks to you, Inverray has been floating on a wave of good publicity and that must change.”

“But I still don’t understand why?” Alicia paused, her mouth abruptly dry. “I thought you were colleagues. I thought you wanted him to succeed.”

“Inverray’s ideals have always been…a bit much for my sensibilities.” Matthews snorted. “But he was young, charismatic, and knew how to command a crowd. Hitching our carts together allowed me to further my own ends.”

“How expedient of you.”

A disgusted scowl darkened the viscount’s face. “I should have known you’d be a reformer like him.”

With lightning-quick reflexes, Matthews reached out and grasped her wrist, hauling her close in an iron grip. His breath coasted over her neck when he whispered, “Do as I say, and your reputation will remain intact. Do as I say, and your husband will be none the wiser. Do as I say, and you can continue writing your inconsequential drivel.”

“But it wouldn’t be my drivel anymore. It would be yours,” Alicia growled, delighting when he bared his teeth at her.

She struggled to break his hold, but a hand suddenly clutched the viscount’s shoulder and yanked him backward. Lord Matthews gasped from his position on the wooden floor, and Alicia turned wide eyes on her rescuer.

Niall’s chest heaved with the force of his breaths, his gray eyes glassy as they stared down at the older man. “How could you do this?”

The viscount rose to his feet, dusting his trousers. “I don’t know what you mean. Lady Inverray and I were just exchanging pleasantries.”

“With your hand wrapped around her arm?” Niall hissed. “Explain yourself, Matthews.”

Her husband’s jaw was sharp enough to cut through granite. But the hand he looped about her waist was gentle, and tears burned the back of her eyes.

Tugging on his waistcoat, Matthews scoffed. “There’s nothing to explain, Inverray. I don’t know what you think you saw—”

“I saw you harassing my wife.”

Alicia clamped her eyes closed, unsure of what to do. She wanted Niall to pummel the viscount until he was a bloody heap on the ground…and she wanted to kick him for good measure. But Alicia was mindful of where they were at, and they could not afford to cause a scene.

Niall flicked his gaze to her for a second, before returning it to Matthews. In that instant, he had come to the same conclusion she had.

He pulled her closer to his side. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, Matthews, but I suspect you were taking out your frustrations with me on my wife, and I will not stand for it. She has nothing to do with this, and it is shameful for you to use her in your pathetic attempt to punish me.”

Matthews scoffed. “Punish you? Hardly, my boy. If I have learned anything during my time in politics, it’s that your allies will disappoint you, and it’s best to expect it and move on quickly when it does.” He paused, considering Niall for a long moment before smirking at her. “I trust you’ll tell me if such an approach applies to wives, as well.”

With that final salvo, the viscount slipped out the door.

Alicia stared at the spot where he’d disappeared for a long moment.

Whatever were they going to do? Viscount Matthews had so much power. The respect of Parliament and the ton. He could blackmail her for all of eternity, for even if she tried to excuse away his claim, who would believe her?

Glancing up, she found her husband staring at the floor. What was he thinking? Viscount Matthews had been his mentor. Had guided him from the time he had first stood for Parliament to his current bid for Prime Minister. Alicia might dislike him, but she had no wish to diminish the man’s worth in her husband’s eyes. That the viscount would, instead, treat Niall so shabbily made her want to chase after the man and twist his fingers until he begged for Niall’s forgiveness.

Instead, Alicia reached out her hand to grab Niall’s. Lifting his knuckles to her lips, she kissed them with all the relief and remorse pumping through her blood. “Thank you for finding me when you did.”

Niall didn’t respond.

After waiting a moment, Alicia plowed on. “I’m sorry that Lord Matthews has turned out to be such a devil.”

“I am, too,” he murmured.

Alicia licked her lips. “What are we going to do?”

His shoulders sank. “Let us continue this discussion in the carriage.”

Nodding, Alicia preceded her husband through the door. She did not attempt to talk to him as they made their way to the foyer, instead bidding their hosts goodbye. Only when they were finally ensconced in the dark Campbell carriage did Niall speak.

“I want you to retire to the Kilmorow estate in the Highlands.”