Three Nights with a Scoundrel: A Novel Read Online Free Page A

tailors will despise me.”
    Lily gave him a chastening look. “We need to talk.”
    Here it was. The moment he’d been dreading. “Very well.” He took a straight-backed armchair and placed it just a few feet from hers, positioning it to facilitate lipreading. “Let’s talk.”
    “No, not here.” She replaced the bundle of letters in the drawer, then shut and locked it with a small key. Reaching for her gloves, she said, “Let’s go out to the square. It’s a lovely afternoon.”
    Julian hesitated. “Really, I’m not fit for public view. And I ought to be—”
    Ignoring his protest, she threaded her arm through his. He promptly misplaced any will to argue.
    It truly was a lovely afternoon, Julian thought as they stepped out into the crisp late October air. This was that rare time of year when the London air could actually be crisp, rather than wavy with humidity or fuzzy with soot. A clear sky capped the rows of lavish town homes and the square they framed. The sun floated bright and yellow overhead, and the world was sharp beneath it. Every edge glinted; each pane of glass reflected blue. And he had Lily on his arm.
    Yes, indeed. A lovely afternoon. Goddamned heartbreakingly beautiful.
    As they crossed into the square, Julian decided to face the matter head-on. They found a vacant bench and sat on opposite ends, turning to face one another.
    “I’m sorry for last night,” he began. “Or rather, for this morning.”
    “You should be.”
    “What I did was … unconscionable. You have my word it will never happen again.”
    “I should hope not.”
    In some other circumstance, with some other lady, his pride might have taken a knock or two, simply from the sheer alacrity of her agreement. But then, they were often of one mind, he and Lily. He told himself this quick consensus was a good thing. A humbling thing, but a good thing.
    He went on, “I don’t know what possessed me to take such liberties. I can only blame the sleeping powder, combined with my state of extreme exhaustion, and I—”
    She held up a hand. “Wait. What are you talking about?”
    He paused, suddenly unsure. “What are you talking about?”
    “You can’t possibly be apologizing for that kiss?”
    “I … I can’t?” Did she not want him to apologize for that kiss? She couldn’t possibly have desired it. Much less enjoyed it. Could she have? The mere possibility sent stupid, irrational hope blazing through him.
    She made a dismissive gesture. “It was scarcely worth mentioning, let alone deserving of apology.”
    Right. Just to confirm: The hope was both stupid and irrational.
    After briefly pressing his lips together to seal his humiliation, he said, “I apologize for my behavior nonetheless. It was wrong of me.”
    “You weren’t yourself. You were drugged and barely conscious.” Smiling, she added, “And considering you swooned again in the middle of it, I’m not certain that kiss reflected favorably on me, either.”
    “For the last time, I did not swoon.”
    “You did.” Her eyes went grave. “You fainted dead away, Julian. And you do owe me an apology. Can you imagine what you put me through? Roused from bed in the dark of night, summoned to the door to view your senseless body in a heap? It was like Leo all over again. I can’t endure another scene like that.”
    Guilt twisted his heart. “Lily …”
    “How much time has passed since Leo died?”
    He gave her a look, one that spoke without words. You, of all people, should not have to ask .
    And she didn’t. Leo had been loved by many, but by no one so much as the two of them. They shared a moment of silent grief.
    “Five months,” she said. “Almost.”
    “Four months, three weeks, and a day.”
    “As you say. And to look at you, one would think five years have passed. Haunting the streets at all hours, developing a sudden fascination with blood sport, chasing shadows down dark alleyways. And you’ve grown so thin and pale.”
    She suddenly