Page 12 of The Counterfeit Scoundrel
“Attend the theater, cross paths at a museum. Go someplace where more than my servants become aware that we enjoy each other’s company.”
“Do we?” she asked. “Do we enjoy each other’s company?”
It wasn’t unusual for the women who came to him to need reassurances, reassurances they never received from their husbands. “I look forward to the time I spend with you.”
“I daresay only because you often thrash me at cards.”
“I do have a competitive streak I’m afraid.”
She tapped her wineglass. “Let’s wait a bit longer before doing anything away from here. I realize to secure the outcome I want, my behavior will be questioned and probably written about in the newspapers and scandal sheets, but I’d still prefer to have as few witnesses as possible, to embarrass Martin as little as needed.”
“As you wish.” He shook his head. “Has he even noticed your absences or commented on them?”
“He’s usually at his office when I leave the residence, abed when I return. The few times he has been home, I’ve told him I’m going to visit a friend. He merely grunts. But then that is his response to anything I say.” Her gaze drifted back to the fire. “Marriage to him has become so deuced lonely.”
“We’ll give it one more month, and then, if necessary, we’ll make our affair very visible to one and all.”
Her smile was angelic. “I feel for all the women who won’t benefit from your kindness once you marry.”
Sputtering on his wine, he nearly choked in the process. “I’ve no plans to marry.”
“Whyever not?”
“I should think your experience would be explanation enough.”
“We did not marry for love. You could.”
“Why would any woman in her right mind want to marry a man with my reputation?”
“You could claim to have reformed, just for her. Her love or yours for her transformed you. The gossips would eat it up.”
He shook his head. “I have no interest in love.” It had killed his mother.
Chapter 4
The call to rise came far too early for Daisy. She had managed to sneak out and hide behind some bushes on the front lawn, where the chill of the night air had caused her to shiver and her teeth to clatter. All for naught. When the woman had finally emerged, Bishop had been beside her, positioned in such a way that his broad shoulders and bent head as he spoke to her made it impossible for Daisy to get a good look at his guest’s features.
While she was aching and sore from last night’s stalking—and was having a difficult time understanding why anyone went hunting and voluntarily subjected themselves to such torment—she knew she’d remain in this employ for at least another week.
After the morning meeting with Perkins, she trudged up the stairs behind Sarah, dreading another morning of dusting and polishing. Truly how much dust could have accumulated since the day before? And apparently all the lilies needed to be done away with and replaced with peonies because supposedly they were Mrs. Mallard’s favorite. The woman, apparently a new addition to his harem, was coming this evening. She hadn’t been inscribed in his appointmentdiary, but Daisy assumed he’d not yet had an opportunity to scrawl in her name—or whatever word he’d used to notate her. She was half-tempted to sneak into the library when he wasn’t about to see what moniker he’d come up with for the lady. She didn’t much like that she wondered what term he might use to describe her.
She’d gathered up half the lilies when she heard the click of his door opening and ducked into the nearby bedchamber, like a coward, because she didn’t want to see how he looked after a night of debauchery. She also feared that a reminder of what she’d witnessed might cause her to blush uncontrollably, and she had no desire for him to know he had any effect on her at all. His footfalls faded away as he descended the stairs.
Carrying her basket of supplies, fresh linens stacked atop it, Sarah wandered by and then backed up and peered into the room. “What are you doing in there?”
“Clean but not be seen?”
The chambermaid pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, and Daisy hoped the maid didn’t discern the true reason for her hiding. “He’s left his bedchamber, so we need to get to it. Set those down and we’ll finish up with the flowers later. Come on then.”
Daisy wanted to finish with the blossoms now, not see his chamber in whatever disarray he’d left it after cavorting about, but as the newest member of the staff, she had no say in what she was supposed to do. Therefore, she set the lilies aside and followed Sarah into his private domain. Her gaze immediately jumped to the bed. She’d expected tangled sheets. Butthe arrangement of the covers was no wilder than hers upon first awakening. One pillow had an indention in it, no doubt where he’d rested his head. The other looked untouched. Had the woman placed her head on his chest? Had she fallen asleep there before he’d escorted her home?
The room smelled rather fresh. She could detect his bergamot and orange scent mixed with a lighter fragrance of lavender, his lady friend’s perfume. She’d expected a darker aroma, one generated by entangled bodies lost to the throes of passion.
Sarah began stripping the bed. “Will you see to the table?”
Daisy turned. The table that had been against a wall last night had been moved so it was now situated between the settee and a wingback chair. The tray was off to the side, devoid of food, but scattered over the fine woodgrain of the table were cards. They befuddled her.
“What you be staring at?” Sarah asked.
