Page 56 of Impeccable
“It’s an open secret in our family. I have no illusions as to what my father thinks of me. I’m a disappointment and a general pain in his arse.” Lord Lucien lifted his glass a second time, then took a drink, the length of which seemed to indicate he was at least a little bothered by his father’s sentiments.
“How can that be true?” Gregory asked. “You’re successful—with a decorated military background, I believe—and well liked. Any father would be proud to call you his son.”
“Not mine. Don’t feel badly for me. I accepted his dissatisfaction long ago. Besides, not everyone finds me so agreeable. Have you not heard that in some circles, I am called a devil?”
“Why?”
Lord Lucien shrugged. “My ‘reckless’ ways and my association with people who are beneath me.” He leaned toward Gregory and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “Because the Phoenix Club welcomes men who are in…trade.” He widened his eyes as if he’d just imparted a horrible piece of gossip.
Gregory rolled his eyes. “I realize that bothers some people, but that makes them more in line with the devil than you, I think.”
“Coming from a man who has engaged in extensive religious study, I shall take that as a compliment.”
It occurred to Gregory that his brother could very well be in that circle who regarded Lord Lucien in that manner. Sipping his whisky, Gregory thought of Clifford and the fact that he’d have to pay a call on him and his wife at some point. Probably. He really should.
Thankfully, Evie walked in and interrupted those annoying thoughts. Her dark purple gown sparkled with what had to be crystals sewn into the embroidery on the bodice and around the hem. She always looked stunning, and he wondered if her appearance would ever cease to steal his breath.
“Ah, Evie has arrived,” Lord Lucien said softly. “I’m sure you wish to speak with her.”
Gregory darted his gaze toward the other man briefly, wondering at his odd tone. His eyes held a knowing glimmer that Gregory didn’t want to contemplate.
“About the dog, I mean,” Lord Lucien added. Gregory was all but certain that wasnotwhat he meant. What did the man know? Or think that he knew?
“Thank you again for arranging the meeting,” Gregory said, rising.
“My pleasure.”
Gregory finished his whisky and set the empty glass on a table before making his way to Evie. She’d entered with another woman. Petite, with dark hair and blue-gray eyes, she was very pretty. Gregory thought they might have met before but couldn’t recall for certain.
Evie spotted him and smiled. “Lord Gregory, allow me to introduce my dear friend and the club’s bookkeeper, Lady Warfield. Ada, this is Lord Gregory Blakemore.”
Lady Warfield gave him her hand, and he bowed his head. “I think we met last Season,” she said. “I am sorry for the loss of your father.”
“Thank you.” Gregory had already heard enough of that since his return to town to last him a lifetime. He was ready to move on. But he would never be rude about it. He looked to Evie. “I was hoping you might give me a tour.”
“You’ve been here before,” she mused, a smile teasing her lips and making him want to kiss her. Except, he nearlyalwayswanted to kiss her.
“I didn’t know you then,” he said. “Perhaps Lady Warfield would oblige me.”
Evie clasped her hands. “That might be best since I need to speak with Lucien about an important matter.”
Disappointment swirled through him. Lady Warfield opened her mouth to speak, but Evie gave her a gentle nudge with her elbow. “Be sure to show Lord Gregory the mezzanine to the ballroom.”
Gregory offered his arm to Lady Warfield. “Shall we, then?”
“Yes. And you can tell me all about how you and Evie became acquainted.”
The barest flash of alarm passed over Evie’s features. Surely, she knew he wouldn’t be indiscreet. It also seemed her “dear friend” didn’t know about his and Evie’s “friendship.”
Lady Warfield took his arm, and he turned his head, whispering to Evie, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
She didn’t respond, but there was an unmistakable smolder in her gaze. That was enough for him.
For now.
After foisting Gregory off on Ada last night at the Phoenix Club, Evie had seen him a few more times over the course of the evening. She hadn’t approached him, however. Their eyes had met once, and she’d nearly sent a note to him via footman asking him to meet her in the garden. There, she would have stolen him through the doorway that led to the ladies’ side, where they would have privacy.
She’d done none of those things, though, and it had affected her sleep again. Her unsatisfied desire for him was not conducive to slumber.
