Page 37 of The Notorious Lord Knightly
Having never much liked the man, he was tempted to reply,No you bloody well may not. But curiosity had him nodding toward the chair King had recently vacated. The earl settled into place. He had Regina’sblond hair and brown eyes, but there the similarities ended. He was a mismatch of features: his father’s hawklike nose, his mother’s near-absent lips. And his narrowed eyes were far too calculating.
A young footman approached and set a glass of scotch before each of them. Knight experienced one of the rare moments when he wished this club wasn’t so accommodating to its members, because if he were in his own residence, he wouldn’t have been hospitable and offered the man, only a couple of years older than himself, a glass of anything. He’d have simply waited for him to reveal his business and be gone.
Bremsford took a sip and smacked his lips with what Knight assumed was a show of appreciation for the fine liquor. But his own glass remained untouched. If the earl noticed the slight, he ignored it.
“I was wondering if you might confirm for me that you are in fact Lord K.”
Glaring, Knight shook his head while releasing an impatient gust of air. “Christ, Bremsford, you are not listening to gossip, surely. How the devil would I know?”
“It’s just that I heard you were brandishing a copy of that disgraceful book around at the gaming tables the other night, so I assumed you’d read it.”
“It was given to me while I was here, and I didn’t have a pocket large enough to accommodate it, and therefore I was forced to carry it about. I certainly wasn’t brandishing it.”
“But have you read it? For if you have, perhaps you can confirm that the author is my father’s by-blow. She was always a bit rash.”
“How would you know how she was, my lord? As I understand it you did all in your power to avoid her.” He remembered the night Regina had spoken about her half-siblings. How she’d never met them. Her voice had been laced with a deep sadness, her tone one of immense loss, but even then, she’d had too much pride to weep.
“I’ve heard enough about her over the years, know she wrote lengthy letters to my father whenever responsibilities kept him away from her whore of a mother. When you—rightly—jilted her, she became a woman scorned. And she has no shame. I am not the only one to suspect it is she who has boldly written about intimacy—yours and hers. What better way to exact her revenge than by bringing notoriety to your door? To ensure you are no longer held in high esteem by your peers and others among the aristocracy?”
“If she was going to go to such bother, why not do it soon after she was scorned? Why wait nearly five years?”
“Because Father was still alive, and she wouldn’t dare risk embarrassing him. She couldn’t guarantee her identity wouldn’t be uncovered or that the gossips wouldn’t point the finger to her. No, she would have waited in order to avoid his censure. But now he is gone. You are the only one to suffer the embarrassment, at her whim. Who is to say it will be the last book she pens? She may have decided to pursue a career as a writer in order to supplement the substantial allowance my father arranged for her. She is greedy that way.”
It was a very good thing Knight had not picked uphis glass of scotch because the force with which his hand closed into a fist would have shattered the crystal. “I never knew her to be greedy. If anything, I’ve found her to be far too generous.”
“In your experience... with her spreading her legs wide for you.”
Knight barely remembered catapulting out of his chair, but suddenly—with one hand fisted around Bremsford’s shirt, near his throat—he was hauling the man to his feet, his other hand knotted tightly, prepared to deliver a blow to the man’s gut. “You will speak of the lady with respect, or I’ll beat bloody manners into you until you do.”
“Don’t be a hypocrite, Knightly. You saw the rancid truth of her and came to your senses before making the fatal mistake of marrying her.”
“As I explained at the church, she is the one who came to her senses, recognizing the truth of me, and that with me she’d never know true happiness. She is all that is pure and good, and deserving of nothing but admiration.”
“No one believed that poppycock you spouted. Through you she gained everything: prestige, power, wealth. She brought nothing to the marriage.”
“She brought herself and that was worth more than anything I had to offer her. But I couldn’t give her the amazing life she so rightly deserves.”
“Regardless, I am convinced she is Anonymous.”
“She is not.” He flung the man back into the chair with enough force to nearly topple it. However, it did scoot back several inches and Bremsford clung to its arms as though he was aboard a ship being tossedabout by a tempest. “Nor am I Lord K. Spread rumors to the contrary and I’ll see you destroyed. By the by, if you received an invitation to the Kingsland ball, disregard it; otherwise, my fist will do the welcoming when you arrive.”
He spun on his heel. Ignoring all the gentlemen who’d come to their feet, eyes wide, mouths agape, he stormed from the library that had once served as a calming sanctuary and wondered if he’d ever find enjoyment in this room again.
Chapter 12
In the darkness of that garden, as his mouth plundered mine and his hands journeyed possessively over me, I became lost to all the glorious sensations he brought to life.
—Anonymous,My Secret Desires, A Memoir
June 18, 1875
The Kingsland ball was an incredibly formal affair—he was a duke after all, and his duchess was extremely skilled at arranging matters—and so guests were announced at the top of the stairs when they arrived. Hence, Knight knew the moment Regina crossed the threshold from the hallway into the ballroom. Not that he’d needed to hear her name booming out to know she’d arrived. He’d sensed her presence, always would. Of course, staring at the doorway had also helped. Because he was here for only her.
If he hadn’t managed to garner her an invitation, he would have made an appearance, but his heartwouldn’t have been in it. Tonight it was fully engaged, the first time in a long while since it had been stirred to feel anything at all when he’d attended one of these aristocratic affairs. Earlier, he’d been tense with concern that she’d ignore the gilded card delivered personally to her by one of the duke’s footmen. He’d almost sent her a missive alerting her that she’d be welcomed.
But then she’d arrived, and he’d taken a full breath of relief. He should have known she’d not let the possibility of receiving cuts dissuade her from placing herself in a position to walk gracefully down those stairs, her head held high, daring anyone to object. The woman was magnificent in a pale green gown that bared her shoulders and hinted at the way her breasts would fill a man’s palms, had filled his. At his sides, his hands clenched and unclenched as he fought off the memories of warm silken flesh against his skin.
Standing with Rook and two other gentlemen, ignoring their chatter, he surreptitiously watched as she gracefully curtsied before the duke and his duchess, the warm smile they each bestowed upon her indicating they were truly glad she’d come. Knightly had chosen his friends well, and he would make a point of thanking them later for their graciousness.
