Melissa and The Vicar (The Seducers Book 1) by S.M. LaViolette

Author:S.M. LaViolette [LaViolette, S.M.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press
Published: 2020-05-11T16:00:00+00:00

Melissa glared at him from across the confines of the post chaise. It was the second day of traveling. She’d not spoken a word to him since dinner on their wedding day. She smirked at the word wedding. Her husband was reading, his expression fixed enough for her to believe he was not merely acting. No, he’d read for an entire day yesterday. And then last night, when they’d stopped at an inn and he’d procured chambers for them: two separate chambers.

He’d ordered her a meal for the private parlor—not consulting her, of course—high-handed behavior she was beginning to realize he must have possessed all along, but had merely kept hidden—and then he bid her good night and took his own meal in the public dining room.

She’d been furious. It had been her plan to ask him to let her have her evening meal in peace because she wanted to see that hurt, pained expression that he’d shown her the day he’d begged for her hand. Instead, he showed her nothing but courtesy, kindness, and polite concern. He was a perfect husband.

And she? Well, she was as sharp-tongued as the proverbial fishwife, everything she said sarcastic, or veiled, or just outright rude. And he never rose to the bait.

But beneath her anger was no small amount of worry and shame. She had lied to him about her real name—lied to the Archbishop of Bloody Canterbury—and she’d concealed her growing suspicion that she was likely pregnant.

He had bullied and threatened and she’d done what she did best, well, second best—she’d lied.

You lied because he forced you to lie! her furious inner voice said, the truth of the statement stirring the embers of her anger but not enough to burn away her guilt at what she’d done.

Even so, her shame wasn’t strong enough to make her forgive him. She knew it was childish, but her desire to bait and draw a rise out of him increased with each hour they spent together. Just what did it take to ruffle his hateful placidity and composure? Two days ago she’d found the answer to that question: Hugo. Yes, Hugo had gotten through Magnus’s veneer of kindness and civility.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t pull Hugo out of her valise to taunt him with, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t introduce his apparition.

So last night, in her room all alone, she’d written Hugo a letter, addressing it to him in a bold hand and giving it to her husband when he’d come to lead her downstairs this morning.

“Will you see this is posted for me, darling.”

His pupils flared at her affectionate tone and his answering smile was instant. And then he’d looked down at the letter in his hand. His beautiful lips tightened but he still managed one of the smiles she now thought of as his curate mask. “It would be my pleasure.”

And those were the last words they’d exchanged since they’d entered the carriage this morning.

He looked up, as if aware of her brooding stare, and smiled at her.

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