“Very little.”
“Do you know about his marriage?”
“I know he was married briefly.”
“It was a dreadful time for him and she was a horrid, beastly creature.” Lady Radbury pressed her lips together. “Gideon, of course, was something of an idiot, but then men who fancy themselves in love generally are.”
“I can’t imagine ever describing Lord Warton as an idiot,” Judith murmured.
“He was not the same man then that he is now. Dear girl, this all happened, oh, nine years or so ago.” The older woman drew her brows together. “It was all kept very quiet but inevitably there were rumors floating about. You didn’t hear about it at the time?”
“Not that I recall.” Nine years ago, Judith was still mourning her own loss and wasn’t the least bit concerned with gossip or anything else outside the confines of her own sorrow.
“That’s something, I suppose,” Lady Radbury muttered. “At any rate, Gideon fancied himself in love with a young woman and believed she loved him back. He further thought he was saving her from an unwanted marriage. She was already betrothed at the time.” Gideon’s aunt heaved a heartfelt sigh. “They eloped, and were discovered immediately by her father and her fiancé. The marriage was annulled. Gideon was devastated.”
“I don’t understand.” Judith drew her brows together. “If they were in love—”
“And therein lay the problem. He was in love with her but she was simply using him for her own purposes. To make her fiancé jealous.” Lady Radbury’s eyes narrowed in a menacing manner. “She was a vile, vile creature.”
Judith stared. “She married him to make someone else jealous?”
“I don’t think she intended it to go that far. I don’t know this for a certainty but I suspect she planned for them to be caught before the wedding actually took place. When poor Gideon realized how ill used he’d been…” Lady Radbury shuddered. “His heart was broken. It took him well over a year to recover.”
“I did hear that,” Judith said quietly. Gideon must have been in great pain to have reacted in the manner in which he did. Her heart twisted for him.
“I came to live with him shortly afterward. My husband’s heirs decided it was past time to fully assert their claims to all my husband’s property even though they had no need for it.” Lady Radbury huffed in disdain. “I was left without a home and Gideon offered me one. I certainly could have purchased a house of my own but Gideon has a lovely large house here in town and a charming estate in the country. Besides, we are all that’s left of our family and he’s much more sentimental than he lets on. Oh, we have some distant, assorted cousins. Annoying people really.” Her gaze locked with Judith’s. “I am exceptionally fond of my nephew. He is my only brother’s only child. Indeed, I think of him as the son I never had. Do you understand?”
Judith chose her words with care. “I understand you wish him to be happy.”
“Don’t be absurd.” Lady Radbury rolled her gaze heavenward. “Happiness is incidental.”
“I should think nothing in life is as important as one’s happiness.”
“Nonsense. Living up to one’s responsibilities in life is more important. I want Gideon well wed to an appropriate wife who will give him the heirs he needs.”
“I fear I don’t see what this has to do with me.”
“Then you are not as smart as I thought you were,” Lady Radbury snapped. “My apologies.” Her tone softened. “This is not at all personal, Lady Chester—may I call you Judith?”
“I’d prefer—”
“Excellent. Judith it is then.” Lady Radbury leaned closer and laid her hand on Judith’s. “Judith, you should understand that I know far more about you than you can imagine.”
“Do you?” Judith arched a brow and pulled her hand away. “Is that both good and bad as well?”
“Yes.” Lady Radbury smiled in reluctant admiration. “I know, for example, that your reputation, while not extreme, might yet be somewhat exaggerated. I know as well you have never lifted a finger to correct that impression. Of course, I have always thought a particular type of reputation served to scare off certain men.”
“A particular type of reputation?” Judith said curiously. “What exactly is a particular type of reputation?”
“Oh, I don’t know…” Lady Radbury met Judith’s gaze firmly. “One that makes it apparent a woman is not a usual sort. Most men want a woman who is nothing out of the ordinary. Oh, certainly they will seek out great beauty but when it comes to any characteristic they claim for their own—talent, intelligence, competence—they do not want a female who is in any way extraordinary. You manage your own affairs, Judith, and I mean that in every sense of the word. You are in charge of your world. That terrifies most men.”
“It doesn’t seem to have terrified Lord Warton.” Still, hadn’t he called her terrifying on the terrace at Susanna’s?
“No.” Gideon’s aunt sighed. “I fear he is intrigued by it. He has never met a woman quite like you. I daresay you have a lot in common with that creature he married too.”
“I can’t imagine—”
“Oh, you might not be as devious but she knew precisely what she was about. What she wanted, that sort of thing.”
“I would never hurt him.”
“No, I don’t think you would. Not deliberately. I think you’re a decent enough person, at least I have never heard otherwise.” She studied Judith for a moment. “Gideon needs to marry. You are not the type of woman he should marry. There’s really little more to say.”
“You’re right, there isn’t.” Judith’s voice was firm. “I have not set my cap for Lord Warton. I have no intention of marrying anyone. Ever.”
“Your intentions are not enough,” Lady Radbury said mildly.
“Of course they are.”
Lady Radbury shook her head. “If Gideon is obsessed with you, he will ignore his responsibilities.”
“We have barely begun to see one another.” Judith laughed. “I would hardly term it an obsession.” Certainly she could not get him out of her head but she would not call it an obsession. As for Gideon, one wouldn’t think a man with an obsession would allow a full two days to pass without seeing the object of said obsession. “The very thought is absurd.”
“Perhaps.” Lady Radbury shrugged. “But I know my nephew and I know him far better than he thinks I do. I have never doubted that he would do what was expected of him when the time came. The one thing I did not expect was you.”
“Me?”
“You.” Lady Radbury shook her head. “For as much as I know about you, I do not know you at all. You are the unknown ingredient. However, if you follow your usual habits, then admittedly I have nothing to be concerned about at all.”
“My usual habits?” Judith could scarcely choke out the words.
“Your affairs never last more than a few weeks, perhaps a month or so. Then you and the gentleman in question part company in a manner far more cordial than I ever have. To this day, you and those gentlemen, a fairly small number I might add, share a friendship.” Lady Radbury smiled pleasantly.
Judith stared in disbelief. “How on earth—”
“Come now, Judith. London is the greatest city on earth and the smallest village in the world. There are no secrets here. Not really. You cannot imagine your actions have not been observed and considered. Even, on occasion”—she bit back a grin—“wagered upon.”
“I would be dreadfully disappointed if my actions were not the subject of wagers. I have managed to win tidy sums myself in the past. Completely unfair, of course, since I have always known what I would or would not do.” Judith brushed aside a growing sense of annoyance and favored Gideon’s aunt with a bright smile. “Are they wagering now?”
“Not yet but I’m certain they will be.” Lady Radbury’s smile was as brilliant as Judith’s. “Unless, of course, you desist seeing my nephew.”
“Then I would suggest we each decide exactly how much we ca
n afford to wager.” Judith leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Louisa, may I call you Louisa? Excellent. Louisa, first of all, Lord Warton is not obsessed with me. As the alleged object of his obsession I am confident I would be the first to notice such a thing. Secondly, regardless of gossip or wagers or even your own concerns in the best interests of your nephew, what transpires between Lord Warton and myself is both personal and private. And Louisa.” Judith straightened and beamed at the older woman. “That is all I intend to say on the matter.”
“And well said too. I am impressed. Which does not change my opinion. This, what ever it is between you, can only lead to disaster for him. I shall not stand idly by and see him destroyed by a woman again. He would be better served—no—I think you would both be better served if you sever your relationship before it proceeds any further.” A sympathetic light shone in Louisa’s eye. “It is something of a pity that you and he didn’t meet years ago. I rather think—”
The door snapped open and Gideon stepped into the box carrying two glasses.
“Refreshments,” he announced. “Or what passes for them. Lemonade, I think.” His gaze slid from Judith to Louisa and back. “How are the two of you faring?”
“Quite well, Gideon.” Louisa rose to her feet. “I don’t know why you were concerned. We have had a lovely chat.”
“And what have you chatted about?” he said cautiously.
“Nothing of significance,” Louisa said blithely.
“Nothing at all important.” Judith smiled at him. “You for the most part.”
He met her gaze and for a moment the look in his eye swept all thought of his aunt from her mind. “And I am not important?”
“You are…” Very important to me. Judith forced a teasing note to her voice. “You are arrogant and very important to yourself.”
“But charming nonetheless.” He grinned.
“Charming nonetheless.” She smiled up at him.
“Dear Lord,” Louisa said under her breath, then sighed. “I must be off. I have left my friends unattended and they will no doubt find all sorts of ways to get into trouble if I do not return to them soon.”
Gideon offered her a glass. “Your lemonade.”
Louisa shuddered. “My dear boy, I despise lemonade.” She turned to go, then looked back. “I should like to have a long chat with you at home later, nephew.”
“What a startling coincidence, Aunt.” Gideon’s gaze met Louisa’s firmly. “I should like to have a long chat with you as well.”
“I shall look forward to it.” Louisa glanced at Judith. “Do enjoy the rest of the performance, Judith. In spite of the absurdity of it, I know I shall. Good evening.”
“Good evening, Louisa,” Judith said without so much as a hint of relief at the older woman’s departure.
With that Louisa took her leave, closing the door in her wake. Gideon handed Judith a glass and took his seat.
“You called her Louisa?” His tone was mild.
“We shall be very good friends,” she said in an offhand manner.
“I doubt that. Furthermore, I suspect your discussion was not insignificant.”
Judith sipped at the overly sweet drink.
Gideon raised a brow. “You’re not going to tell me what the two of you talked about, are you?”
“Pleasantries. The performance. The sorts of things one talks about during the intermission of a play.”
He stared at her. “I don’t believe you.”
“You’ve found me out.” She heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “We were discussing the state of the world. Whether there will be war with Russia. Whether skirts will be fuller next year.”
He snorted. “Hardly possible.”
“It was nothing of significance.” She turned her gaze toward the stage. “Now, the play is beginning.”
It was indeed the truth. Louisa’s concerns weren’t at all valid and therefore had no significance. Judith had no intention of marrying Gideon. Certainly her relationship with him thus far had not followed her usual habit, but then Gideon made her feel as no man had since her husband. Or as no man ever had? She brushed the thought away. That was as absurd as Louisa’s charges. Still, even at the beginning of her other adventures she had always contemplated the end of them. The thought of ending this with Gideon, of never seeing him again, caught at something inside her. Her heart? That too was nonsense. It was nothing more than the intensity of their passion coupled with the romance of the play.
He leaned closer and spoke softly into her ear. “I do not believe you for a moment.”
“Hush.”
“I shall find out exactly what passed between you and my aunt.” He paused. “Later.”
Anticipation shivered through her. Later.
“And I shall use what ever means at my disposal to get that information.” He straightened and turned toward the stage but she could hear the smile in his voice. “Later.”
It was impossible to sit next to the man and not want to throw herself into his arms.
She sighed softly in surrender. “I shall look forward to it.”
Chapter 6
W hat was it about this woman?
Gideon lay on his side with his head propped in his hand and studied Judith’s profile in the faint light that drifted in through the tall windows of her violently feminine bedroom. He scarcely knew her at all, yet he felt as if he had known her forever. As if being with her was somehow inevitable. Silly romantic nonsense of course. Probably put into his head by the play they’d seen.
He wondered if she was asleep and resisted the urge to find out. A faint stuttering snore sounded from the far side of the room. Obviously someone was asleep. For a small dog, Arthur was exceedingly noisy. And stubborn as well. Gideon had made certain to slip the beast a biscuit upon their return from the theater. The blasted creature had taken the biscuit and had come dangerously close to taking Gideon’s fingers with it.
“You’re staring at me, aren’t you?”
Gideon chuckled. “I thought you were asleep.”
“No,” she said softly, “I was just thinking.”
“Oh?” He found her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingers one by one. “About me I hope.”
“Is it inconceivable to you that I would be thinking of something else?” A smile sounded in her voice.
“Something else? When I am lying here beside you? Naked?” He scoffed, “It is indeed inconceivable.”
She laughed, rolled onto her side, and mirrored his position. “Do you wish to know what I’ve been thinking about?”
“Thought, at a time like this, seems”—he reached out and traced a finger along the edge of the sheet that barely covered her breasts—“unnecessary.”
“Very well then.”
Indeed, thought was the last thing on his mind. He ran his hand lightly over the sheet concealing her breast and felt her nipple beneath the linen tighten at his touch.
“Your aunt thinks I am entirely wrong for you,” she said in an offhand manner.
“Oh, you are. Utterly, unquestionably wrong.” He trailed his fingers along the underside of her breast. There was something remarkably exciting about the feel of a woman’s warmth covered only by fresh linens.
“She believes I will ruin your life.” Judith paused. “She didn’t use those precise words but her meaning was clear nonetheless.”
“And what a lovely ruination it will be.” He leaned forward and kissed her shoulder. “I can scarcely wait.”
“She thinks you are obsessed with me.”
How could one woman taste so delicious? He murmured against the sweetness of her flesh, “I am. Completely obsessed.”
“She fears that I will break your heart.”
He stilled, his lips lingering on her shoulders. Talk was close behind thought on the list of what he had no desire to do at the moment. Still, Judith had evaded any discussion of what had transpired with Aunt Louisa, had indeed distracted him in an altogether thorough and exciting manner
, until now. Reluctantly, he returned to his previous position. “My heart is substantially harder than it once was.”
“Your aunt thinks otherwise.”
He blew a resigned breath. “My aunt is an annoying woman who thrives on interference and refuses to accept that I am no longer ten years of age and am well capable of handling my own affairs. Particularly those of a personal nature.” He considered his next question for a moment, then shrugged to himself. “What else did she say?”
She laughed. “Now you’re interested?”
“You have piqued my curiosity. Obviously your conversation with my aunt has stayed in your mind, so yes, I am interested.”
“I know so little about you,” she murmured.
“There is not a great deal to know.” Apparently, if he were to hear more of Judith’s conversation with Aunt Louisa there was a price to be paid. “My aunt is the only sister of my father. My father died shortly after my twenty-first birthday. My mother died when I was very young, I scarcely remember her. Aside from Aunt Louisa, I have a handful of distant cousins, several of whom keep a close eye on my health and my marital state in hopes that I will die without an heir. Preferably before they are too old to enjoy my title and my fortune.” He chuckled. “I should love to see the jostling for position that will ensue when I have breathed my last.”
She laughed.
“You may laugh all you wish but I suspect it will be quite a ferocious fight.”
“They should know that you have no intention of dying without an heir,” she said lightly.
“No, I do not.” He drew a deep breath. “She told you about my ill-fated marriage, didn’t she? Although something that lasts less than a day can scarce be called a marriage.”
“She mentioned it.”
A Little Bit Wicked Page 9