Page 5 of Wicked Again
I loved him so much.
“Are you sure?” she asked, even knowing as she voiced the question that Brendan wasn’t the sort to speculate. He had to be sure, or he wouldn’t have told her. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”
“For Blue John, Mother. An entire mine full of it.”
“What? No!” She shook her head. “It can’t be true.” Ice seeped up her arms in a cold embrace, the shock threatening to overwhelm her. John and Lydiahadbecome very wealthy after the discovery of the Blue John. Her fingers clutched at Brendan’s arm as she struggled for breath.
It can’t be true.
“The mine isn’t on Pendleton’s land, butmine.” Brendan tenderly wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to his chest. “I found the proof, Mother. It was Simon’s father, John, who shot him.” Brendan’s voice caught, deceptively soft. “And Lydia helped. Simon has known the truth of it for years.”
As Brendan finished speaking, he pressed a kiss to Marissa’s temple before pushing her face against his chest in time to stifle the anguished scream erupting from her lips.
2
“My vision of a widower is an older gentleman with gout. He doesn’t exactly fit the bill, does he? I’d no idea,” a pause, “thathewasmolderingaway in the country.”
“I doubt very much he lacks for companionship, despite being so far from London. I wonder if he’s looking for a wife. He has been gone from society for some time. Hopefully he hasn’t brought those dreadful daughters along with him.”
“I’m sure he has.”
“I suppose a new wife could send them all off to boarding school.” A twitter. “He’s quite skilled in the bedroom, according to the gossips. Perhaps I shall take him as a lover.”
The smile on Marissa’s lips faltered at hearing the conversation behind her. The newspapers had been full of the handsome widower’s return to society after so many years. Although, if hewaslooking for a new wife, Marissa wondered that he had to come all the way to London to find one. Haddon could surely have found someone closer to home. Although, she supposed London held a variety of amusements for an attractive, charming gentleman.
“Haddon has many admirers.” The woman behind Marissa lowered her voice to a discreet murmur. “He’ll have no trouble finding a wife among them.”
A small speck of pain, unexpected and unwelcome, tightened across her chest. Marissa was sure she’d left anything akin to tender emotion behind in the Peak District. Purposefully.
“Marissa? What is it?”
Adelia, Lady Waterstone, Marissa’s closest friend and confidant, peered at her, pretty face alit with concern. “I daresay you’ve become quite pale. Shall I pinch your cheeks?”
Adelia’s tower of auburn hair tilted in Marissa’s direction. Styled in an elegant display of curls and ribbons, her hair appeared to be more the topping of a cake than a coiffure. Diamonds swayed dramatically from Adelia’s ears as she made a great show of examining Marissa for some defect.
“I don’t need my cheeks pinched, Adelia. It is only all the smell of pomade in the air which makes me a bit ill. Reminds me unpleasantly of Cupps-Foster.” Marissa hadn’t cared much for her last husband, who had worn an excessive amount of pomade and whose breath had always carried the scent of peppermints and gin. Thankfully the marriage, like her first two, had been short-lived.
“Ithink you were listening.” Adelia leaned over until one of her earrings nearly batted Marissa in the eye. “To the conversation behind you.”
Marissa put a finger to her lips, quieting her friend and nodding. They both stayed perfectly still for a moment longer, but the two women’s conversation had turned to the disparagement of Lord Talbot’s waistcoat before the rustling of skirts met her ears and the women moved away.
“Germania Woodstock and Rowena Helmsworth. Two gossiping ninnies on the search for new lovers to ease their boredom with their husbands. They’ve gone to circle the refreshment tables and cast their nets elsewhere.” Adelia looked at someone over Marissa’s shoulder. “What had you so captivated, darling? Surely it wasn’t Talbot’s choice of clothing.”
“I thought I overheard something of interest, but I was mistaken.” The last thing she wished to discuss with Adelia was Haddon. Her friend would latch on to the fact that Haddon was not only attractive, but younger and speculate as to how Marissa had managed to meet such a gentleman. She’d ask endless questions, none of which Marissa wished to answer.
I’ve only just managed to put thoughts of Haddon aside.
Not completely, but—
“You’re frowning.” Adelia snapped her fan against Marissa’s wrist. “Women our age can’taffordthe wrinkles so stop this instant.” She nodded toward Marissa’s dark hair swept up into an elegant chignon. “At least you took my advice. Your maid did an excellent job.”
“She did. The apothecary mixed exactly the correct shade, as you said he would.” Adelia had suggested to Marissa several weeks ago, when she was bemoaning the gray in her hair, to seek out a small shop tucked away in an alley just on the other side of Bond Street. Mr. Coventry’s apothecary specialized in lotions, dyes and other tricks to assist in the illusion of youth or prohibit an unwanted pregnancy.
At least I’m in no need of those services.There were times Marissa bemoaned the fact she could no longer have a child. It reminded herunpleasantlyof her age.
“I don’t know what I’d do without Mr. Coventry. The man is a treasure.” Adelia espoused the virtues of the apothecary.
Marissa eyed Adelia’s mass of auburn hair. She’d never seen a spot of gray. Her friend must spend a small fortune at Mr. Coventry’s shop.
