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The parlor itself was a fine enough room, with a portrait of Lady Kirton’s favorite spaniel taking pride of place on the wall, but it was clear this room was not often used for entertaining callers. A larger, more elegant chamber served more frequently for guests. A
“Married life must agree with you, my dear.” Lady Kirton eyed A
A
He had kept her thoroughly, deliciously occupied, and if that had not exhausted her, then her troubling dream would have. Normally, when she did recall her dreams, they faded over the course of the day. Not so this one. A
He has never seen the Dark One’s true face. And on the day he does, it will be too late.
“Mrs. Bailey?”
A
“The first weeks of marriage can be quite taxing.” The older woman spoke from wellsprings of experience. “In time, the novelty wears off, and we wives are left in blessed peace.”
A
How very different her marriage was from others of her class! How full of wonderful potential! It exceeded her every expectation.
Yet her memories were darkened by the dream that had followed. That temple. The images of an evil being bringing death and destruction. And the awful storm being slammed into her body.
A
“If one is fortunate.” Lady Kirton smiled thinly. Having met the ill-tempered Lord Kirton, A
“For the present,” A
The countess sniffed. “Though he lacks any sort of breeding, when it comes to fortune and appearance, your husband is generously endowed.”
It took A
“Though I know in time he will behave as all men do, in the interim I strive to keep things amusing between us.” She affected a conspiratorial giggle. “Shall I tell you how?”
Lady Kirton’s veneer of polite boredom fell away, and she leaned in close. “Yes, do.”
“I like to play little practical jokes on him.”
Though clearly this was not quite the response the countess had been hoping for, she still looked interested. “Practical jokes?”
“Mr. Bailey is so very observant. It amuses me to see what he does and does not notice. For example, I replace his brandy with sherry and his Bordeaux with burgundy.”
“I’m surprised a man of his pedigree knows the difference.”
A
“Naturally,” drawled the countess.
A
The countess sat back, stu
“With such an amusing trick, it might rekindle some of the newlywed’s spirit in your husband.”
Lady Kirton looked dubious. “Truly?”
“La, yes.” A
The countess considered this, tapping one finger against her chin. Some faded memory of past passion must have revived, for her pale cheeks turned pink. At last, she said, “Perhaps I shall.”
“Oh, marvelous!” A
“His desk in the library.” Lady Kirton stood eagerly. “I can fetch them in an instant. A moment, Mrs. Bailey.” She hurried out the door to the parlor, leaving A
Smiling to herself, A
She realized that in the whole of Leo’s house, there were a few paintings of landscapes, some hunting scenes, but not a single portrait. No grim ancestors staring out from the walls. Not even a picture of Leo’s father or mother. Her husband had no history. He created himself, whole and entire, as if he were both Zeus and Athena, springing forth fully formed from his own mind.
A demilune table was positioned directly beneath the portrait of the dog. Lit candles were arrayed atop the table, struggling against the overcast day. As A
A
It was as though she were the breeze that extinguished the flames. Frowning, A
A
It had been a dream. Nothing more. Yet A
“This will be amusing.” Lady Kirton sailed back into the parlor, her hands cupped around an assortment of coins. She held them out to A
A
“The substitution,” prompted the countess. “Some of Lord Kirton’s coins for the same amount in different denominations.”
A
Lady Kirton frowned at the now smoldering hearth. “Those useless servants. Ca
Saying nothing, A
If this was anything like the sort of excitement Leo felt when finessing a deal at Exchange Alley, no wonder he devoted himself to work. She could get quite addicted to the stimulation.