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“Oh, God.” Lily groaned. “We’re too late, Rose.”

“Thomas, really,” Rose said. “I should think you would have more sense.”

“Holy hell,” Thomas said. “Do the two of you really think I’m no more discriminating

than a stag in rut?”

“You are a man after all,” Lily said.

“I’m not Lybrook, damn it. I have no interest in the widow Gregory.”

Lily widened her eyes. “You know about their affair?”

“It was never a secret.”

“So you didn’t sleep with her?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I didn’t, although she was quite persuasive.”

“Thank goodness.” Lily sighed, relieved. “She’s bad news, Thomas.”

“Yes,” Thomas agreed. “There were rumors after her husband died. They weren’t even married a year.”

“How did he die?” Rose asked.

“I did some asking at the bachelor house. He fell down a flight of stairs in their London home six or seven years ago.”

“How terrible!” Rose gasped.

“He was only forty-five years old, and Lady Gregory was twenty. She was a commoner, you know. The gossip was that she married Gregory for his fortune and did away with him. But nothing was ever proven.”

“Oh Lord,” Lily said.

“What is it, Lily?” Rose asked.

“It’s just a little disconcerting to know that my intended didn’t have the sense to stay away from such a money-grubbing trollop. What has Papa gotten me into?”

“Lybrook is a good man, Lily,” Thomas said. “I mean that. He’s not the only man on earth to ever get blindsided by a seductress. In fact, he’s in the majority.”

“You men are all pigs,” Lily said dryly.

“Men are simply men,” Thomas replied. “On that note, may we please change the subject? This conversation has gone far beyond the limits of what I’m comfortable with. Why can’t I have sisters who are loathe to mention body parts in the company of men?”

“You’re not a man, Thomas, you’re our brother,” Lily said.

“Yes, but I agree with him,” Rose said. “Let’s change the subject. Discussion of Lady Gregory has become tedious.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Lily said. “I can’t abide the little hussy.”

* * *

Amelia watched them from a distance—the two little Jameson shrews lunching with their devilishly handsome brother. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell them about her failed seduction attempt. It irked her, though, that he hadn’t wanted her. He was as attractive as Daniel, but in a different way—dark and classic as opposed to blond and exotic, the image of his father, the Earl of Ashford.

Hmm. Ashford himself was still an attractive man, and a wealthy one. Of course he was hopelessly devoted to his adoring wife. On the other hand, happily married men took mistresses all the time. He couldn’t offer her a name, but he was likely to be an animal in bed. And wouldn’t that just bunch Lily’s bustle, to find out that Amelia was fucking her father!

Alas, it likely wouldn’t work. Amelia would only make a fool of herself, as she had with his son. She would refocus her efforts on Daniel. She would find him, seduce him, and show him exactly what he would miss by marrying his precious Lily.

* * *


Tags: Helen Hardt Sex and the Season Erotic