The Bluestocking and the Rake (Hearts in Hiding Book 2) by Oakley Beverley

Author:Oakley, Beverley [Oakley, Beverley]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2018-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Miles, who had observed with fascination the short exchange between Jemima and Lord Deveril’s intended on the stairs at the theater, was disappointed, but not surprised, when he observed the couple’s hasty exit.

He glanced at Miss Elizabeth, who sat with her godmother on the other side of the stalls, but could discern nothing to indicate the young lady was troubled. He was glad she appeared not to know or understand the truth and for a moment he was galvanised by the noble vow that he’d never betray an honest wife with a mistress. Until he reminded himself that he would go to any lengths to have Miss Mordaunt for his own. And, of course, that could never be in the capacity of his wife.

With a sigh, his restless gaze scanned the packed stalls. Now that Miss Mordaunt had left, there was no more entertainment to be had here for him.

As for Deveril, he appeared to have realized he’d overstepped the mark in bringing his mistress to the theater. The folly of an overconfident man, he thought with a touch of malice. Deveril had inherited an outrageous amount of money at an early age. He was used to getting—and keeping—what he wanted.

Yet was Miles any better? He wanted what Deveril had: Miss Mordaunt.

Distractedly, he followed the small knot of theatre goers who were trailing from the stalls as he contemplated the the fact he’d taken advantage of — or squandered — the very same opportunities Deveril had.

Miles had been similarly indulged, though he liked to consider that his moral compass had been more finely tuned in the months since his brother’s death than Deveril’s would ever be. Surely this made him a more attractive proposition than Deveril?

And if the depth of desire had any bearing on the matter, he would freely acknowledge that he wanted Miss Mordaunt like he’d never wanted anything in his life. The need for her tormented his restless sleep; distracted him from his usual pursuits.

She’d asked him to orchestrate Deveril gaining an invitation to Griffith House for Yuletide and initially Miles had taken up the challenge. After all, anything that would give him an advantage in Miss Mordaunt’s opinion was worth pursuing.

Now, though, he realised such an undertaking would serve neither Miss Mordaunt nor Miles if Deveril weren’t going to find a way to secretly ensconce his mistress.

Better to dwell on the reasons for Miss Mordaunt’s request than its futility. Miles was sure it was a sign that indicated, however obscurely, that Miss Mordaunt wanted to find a way to be under the same roof as Miles. For although she remained firm in outwardly maintaining she wanted nothing more to do with Miles following his unconscionable behaviour, how could she explain the kiss? Or rather, the passion that fed it? The way she’d melted in his embrace? The ardor that had so disconcerted her? Miles was certain he induced feelings in her breast that Deveril never had.

Unexpectedly, he found himself at the end of the performance in a group that included Miss Elizabeth and her godmother, Lady Greene.

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