Page 43 of The Scoundrel and the Lady

“Well, I suppose they have done some good. But do you not see how unnatural it is that they do these things instead of trusting the men in their lives to offer protection?”

“Actually, it sounds to me like they’re rather brave.”

“Well, it sounds to me as if you fancy this other source of yours.”

He didn’t even bother responding to that comment. He knew he did not fancy Iris any way but simple, lustful desire. This woman, whoever she truly was, held significant anger toward the Ladies of Virtue. Had they wronged her in some way?

He wanted more information. More about this woman in disguise. More about the secret works of the Ladies of Virtue. But he knew Iris would tell him nothing. Perhaps once the story printed, more people would step forward, and he’d uncover the complete truth behind the Ladies of Virtue.

…

Iris eyed the theater and did her best not to appear as damned eager as she felt. Her entire person felt alive with nerve endings. She was out in the midst of London’s most elite, and she was wearing trousers and posing as a man. The other night at the gaming club had been a trial. Tonight…tonight she took more risk. There were a greater number of people who could recognize her, including her aunt and brother, if they were in attendance, though she hadn’t seen her aunt in a few months. But also the members of the Ladies of Virtue—she knew many of them would be in attendance tonight.

She controlled her breathing and stood behind Merritt as he spoke softly to the other man he’d brought with him, his assistant, Rand. Merritt had explained that having another seemingly unrecognizable man in the theater box would assist Iris in blending in. They hadn’t loitered long in the entrance of the theater, Instead he’d quickly ushered her upstairs to his box. She’d been to the theater before, but had always sat among the masses down below. This, though, gave her a much better view of the stage, not that she would pay much attention to that tonight. She adored Shakespeare, yet she felt certain she’d be far too distracted to enjoy the play.

“Merritt,” a woman’s sultry voice purred. “I did not know you’d be coming tonight.”

Iris turned to find the owner of the voice and was met with the embodiment of femininity. The woman was, in a word, gorgeous. Unlike Iris’s brash red hair, this woman boasted warm auburn locks that accented her flawless ivory complexion. She had sultry brown eyes and a perfectly shaped, seemingly-natural red mouth. And the way she held those eyes on Merritt made Iris burn from the inside. That was possessiveness. Iris might be naive, but there was no mistaking that.

“Jessica,” Merritt said. He bent over her hand formally, but Iris was almost certain that he did not kiss the woman’s gloved hand.

“Are you not going to introduce me to your companions?” Jessica asked.

“I believe you know Mr. Lockwood,” Merritt said.

“Oh yes,” Jessica said, glancing at Rand, though she didn’t bother to inquire about his well-being. “But this young gentleman, I’m certain you’ve been hiding him.” And she turned her sultry eyes onto Iris.

For a brief moment, Iris forgot who she was and where she was and that she was pretending to be someone else entirely. But the rules still applied, and as a gentleman she could not fail to introduce herself to the woman—not that she appeared all that concerned with propriety.

“Jessica, leave the boy alone,” Merritt said. “He is new to the city.”

“He’s adorable.” She winked at Iris. “Please introduce us.”

“Very well. May I introduce John Benford. John, may I present Jessica Franklin, the widow Lady Wilkens,” Merritt said. Iris noted the tick of a muscle in his jawline. He was not pleased with their visitor.

Iris remembered to bow over the woman’s hand, and gave her a tight grin. “Pleasure to meet you,” she said, lowering her voice.

“Perfectly charming. You will do quite well in this town, I do believe,” Jessica said. She winked again. “Do feel free to call upon me if you need any guidance about town.” She moved back over to Merritt and ran her hand down his arm, a touch far too familiar for Iris’s taste. “I suppose I should get back to my seat before I’m stranded up here when the lights go down. Unless you want to invite me to join.”

“Good evening, Jessica,” Merritt said, and he positioned himself between her and Iris.

Iris watched Jessica walk away and wondered if that sort of ease of sensual behavior came from being a widow or if some women were simply born more seductive.

The lights dimmed, and they returned to their seats as the play began.

“I have never seen this particular play,” Iris said when the first act finished.

“Nor read it?” he asked.

“No, though I do enjoy the Bard.”

“I suspect you’ll enjoy the next half,” Merritt said.

Rand said something to Merritt, then disappeared out of the box to retrieve refreshments.

“That woman who was in here earlier,” Iris said tentatively. “Were you in love with her?”

“Jessica and I had a brief affair, but no, I was never in love with her,” he said.

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