Page 27 of The Virgin and the Viscount

“Tell me, how is wedded bliss?” he asked.

“Blissful,” she said, then glanced behind him to the room at large. It was empty save the two of them. “Where is my sister?”

His jaw clenched briefly before he answered. “We came separately. She wasn’t ready when I told her I’d be leaving. I suspect she’ll arrive eventually. She’s not one to let an opportunity slip past her.”

“Opportunity?” Tilly asked.

“For people to fawn over her. For her to flirt with other men.” His shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. His expression was one of pure defeat.

It was not a huge surprise. Melanie and Thomas hadn’t gotten along in years. Initially, their marriage had seemed a happy one, or at least an amicable one. Now they barely spoke and when they did, it was to bicker at each other. And though Tilly had never confirmed it, she felt certain neither of them had taken their vows to heart and had each spent time in other people’s beds. That was none of her concern.

He shook his head. “I do hope you’ll save a dance for me tonight.” His gaze dropped briefly to her breasts.

Tilly’s cheeks heated. Was he flirting with her?

“Will you do that for me?” he asked, placing his hand at her elbow.

“Kindly remove your hands from my wife,” Sullivan said from the doorway, his tone dark and menacing. “I believe you have your own wife.”

“Mine is not as sweet as yours.” Thomas winked at her, then walked over to Sullivan, leaving Matilda in the middle of the room alone.

…

Sullivan glared at his brother as the slightly younger man made his way over to him. The ball hadn’t even officially begun and already it had been a long damn night. Especially when he’d entered the parlor and found Thomas’s hands on Tilly. Sullivan tightened his fists at his side.

“What I want to know is why you haven’t yet consummated your marriage.” Thomas’s voice was low as he whispered to Sullivan. “What’s the matter, big brother, can’t get your poker hot enough?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sullivan said.

Thomas shrugged. “Perhaps, but let me simply say that if you won’t pluck that flower, I certainly will. Let me know if you need my assistance.”

“You’re a bastard,” Sullivan spat. “Eventually, everyone else will see the truth of who you are.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from Thomas’s throat. “That’s doubtful.”

“I want to know what you’ve been doing—or rather not been doing—at our seaside village. I spoke with David Cummings yesterday.”

Thomas cocked one brow. “Oh, have you decided to take on your duties as viscount? Let me know if you need any advice.”

It was that moment that Melanie swept into the room. Her golden hair up in a complicated coiffure of curls with the occasional jewel shimmering about. She wore a bold and daring red dress, one that perfectly molded to her feminine curves. It didn’t take a detective to figure out she’d gone all out to upstage her sister at Tilly’s own wedding ball. Sullivan turned away from Melanie and let Thomas deal with her. He was married to the shrew.

For the first time, Sullivan let his eyes take in Tilly’s form as she stood off to the side. How often had she done that very thing when her sister entered a room? Likely all of her life. Melanie craved constant attention and affirmation. Sullivan found her tiresome. His eyes traveled the length of Tilly’s lithe figure.

She looked up at him and he was struck by her beauty. The green of her gown was the perfect shade of her eyes and it made her fair skin positively glow. Her breasts looked perfect, framed by the jade silk. He wanted nothing more than to drag her back upstairs and remove that gown from her tempting body.

“You look stunning,” he told her.

Her cheeks pinkened and she gave him a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“Don’t embarrass her, Sullivan,” Melanie said from across the room, her voice taking on an annoying singsong quality. “That wretched flush makes her look spotty. It’s not very becoming.”

He didn’t miss the slight wince in Tilly’s face. “You look perfect.” He took her arm and led her forward. “Shall we?”

She nodded but said nothing. She was such a spitfire with him, but interactions with her sister made her pensive and quiet. Melanie seemed capable of sucking the spirit right out of Tilly.

He hated that. He’d much rather have her yell at him and call him names than to be this quiet, defeated person.

“Now, Freckles,” he murmured close to her ear. “I must say that is a beautiful gown, but I believe it would look much better on the floor in my bedchamber.”

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