Page 10 of To Tempt a Scandalous Lord
“Of course I’m not going to mention it. That is not the kind of campaign I wish to run.”
Alicia snorted, quickly smothering the sound by taking another sip of wine. But it was too late.
Inverray’s gray gaze pinned her to the spot. “Aww, Lady Lindsay, I knew I could count on you to have a thought on that proclamation,” he said, the corners of his mouth hinting at amusement. “Come now, if you were me, what would you do?”
He expected she’d react, did he? Alicia stored that away to consider later. Still, in for a penny, in for a pound.
Licking her lips, she said, “If I were in a position to win the most powerful political seat in England, I would fine-tune my talking points, boast of my voting record, and reiterate, over and over, why I am the superior candidate to Lord Medlinger.” She couldn’t stop the smile that pulled her mouth taut. “And that means I, as candidate Inverray, would be using this supposed rumor as proof of my claims.”
“You”—he paused, and the way his mouth twitched convinced her he was biting back a chuckle—“you think I should make use of this rumor?”
“Of course I do. A rumor like this is a godsend during an election.”
The marquess stared at her, his gray eyes unfathomable.
“Interesting. Am I to assume, then, that you may think very differently about the chapbooks we discussed earlier?”
Alicia blinked. To respond honestly could alienate her from these people she longed to form friendships with, and the thought was a lance across her skin.
Inverray took a sip of his drink, waiting for a response.
Right.Alicia squared her shoulders, mentally preparing herself for recriminations. “I…think…it’s easy to be offended by criticism and harder to accept it with an intent to learn.”
The room was quiet, but the small tick in Inverray’s jaw left her breathless.
Charlotte leaned toward Alicia, her gaze intense. “I fully admit that criticism of my friends is hard for me to hear, but even during our short acquaintance, I trust you will tell me the truth. So tell me, Alicia, what can his lordship learn from these chapbooks I like to shred when I am angry?”
Alicia discreetly sucked a breath through her teeth, and slid her gaze to Inverray. He watched her with an expressionless mien…until he arched a black brow.
So he wanted the truth, did he? Alicia could barely contain her smile. The truth it would be then.
…
Lady Lindsay possessed all the equanimity of a card sharp.
Niall had no idea if she had a mind for vingt-et-un, or if other games of chance were more her specialty, but what he did know was that her expression never seemed to change regardless of how scandalous the topic.
While his friends had laughed and chatted over the course of the night, Lady Lindsay had remained silent. Composed. Yet, he hadn’t failed to notice how her dark eyes had danced as she took in the action around her. Like she wanted to participate in the banter, but held herself back.
Niall understood why. Their small group was close, tied together by blood and the bonds of friendship that had been forged and strengthened through the fire of scandal.
Still, even amongst their company, he desired Lady Lindsay’s voice. Her thoughts on the topics they discussed. The barbed wit he’d glimpsed at the recent soiree. The impeccably dressed, impeccably behaved countess had a secret heart of fire.
And damn if she hadn’t shared it with him.
She lifted her chin, and met Lady Firthwell’s gaze head on to answer the question. “I believe the author of these tracts is correct that Inverray has tread lightly on some issues when he should be pushing harder.”
“But as his lordship already discussed, surely such things require balance. A degree of finesse.” A furrow marred the viscountess’s forehead. “He can’t push through reforms simply because he wants them.”
“Of course he can.”
The trio went still. Lady Lindsay’s gaze scanned the room, no doubt taking in the surprised expressions gaping back at her. But to her credit, she did not shrink back from his friends’ censure. Instead, she calmly raised her glass of wine to her lips and took a drink.
The silence was broken by Lady Firthwell’s inquisitive voice. “How so, my lady?”
The countess placed her glass gently on the table next to her and looked down at her lap. When Niall followed her gaze, he found her twisting her fingers in her skirts.Ah, not as calm as she seems.
“Instead of directing your ire and frustration at this anonymous chapbook writer, perhaps consider how you can use his writing to further your ends.”
