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There was an implication in his words that she couldn t quite identify & but it filled her with a tingle of
anticipation. Why did you persuade her to help me? she asked.
Because I thought I might enjoy inflicting you on her.
Well, if you re going to make me sound like some sort of plague
And, Westcliff interrupted, I felt obligated to make amends after my rough handling of you this
morning.
It wasn t all your fault, she said reluctantly. I suppose I might have been somewhat provoking.
Somewhat, he agreed dryly, his fingertips sliding behind her ear to the satiny edge of her hairline. I
should warn you that my mother s consent to the arrangement is not unconditional. If you push her too
far, she ll balk. Therefore, I advise you to try to behave in her presence.
Behave how? Lillian asked, excruciatingly aware of the gentle exploration of his fingertip. If her sister
didn t return soon, she thought dizzily, Westcliff was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to, so badly
that her lips had begun to tremble.
He smiled at her question. Well, whatever else you may do, don t He broke off suddenly, glancing
at their surroundings as if he had become aware of some- one s approach. Lillian could hear nothing
except the rustle of the breeze that swept through the trees and scattered a few fallen leaves across the
graveled pathways. However, in just a moment a lean, lithe form cut through the mosaic of torchlight and
shadow, and the gleam of antiqued-gold hair identified the visitor as Lord St. Vincent. Westcliff withdrew
his hand from Lillian immediately. The sensual spell was broken, and she felt the rush of warmth begin to
fade.
St. Vincent s stride was long but relaxed, his hands buried casually in the depths of his coat pockets. He
smiled at the sight of the pair on the bench, his gaze lingering on Lillian s face.
There was no doubt that this remarkably beautiful man, with the face of a fallen angel and eyes the color
of heaven at daybreak, had occupied the dreams of many women. And been cursed by many a
cuckolded husband.
It seemed an unlikely friendship, Lillian thought, glancing from Westcliff to St. Vincent. The earl, with his
straightforward, principled nature, must certainly disapprove of his friend s wayward inclinations. But as
often was the case, this particular friendship might be strengthened by their differences rather than being
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undermined by them.
Stopping before them, St. Vincent confided, I would have found you sooner, but I was attacked by a
swarm of dingy-dippers. His voice lowered with conspiratorial furtiveness. And I don t wish to alarm
either of you, but I had to warn you& they re planning to serve kidney pudding in the fifth course.
I can manage that, Lillian said ruefully. It is only animals served in their natural state that I seem to
have difficulty with.
Of course you do, darling. We re barbarians, the lot of us, and you were perfectly right to be appalled
by the calves heads. I don t like them either. In fact, I rarely consume beef in any form.
Are you a vegetarian, then? Lillian asked, having heard the word frequently of late. Many discussions
had centered on the topic of the vegetable system of diet that was being promoted by a hospital society
in Ramsgate.
St. Vincent responded with a dazzling smile. No, sweet, I m a cannibal.
St. Vincent, Westcliff growled in warning, seeing Lillian s confusion.
The viscount grinned unrepentantly. It s a good thing I happened along, Miss Bowman. You re not safe
alone with Westcliff, you know.
I m not? Lillian parried, tensing inwardly as she reflected that he never would have made the glib
comment had he known of the intimate encounters between her and the earl. She didn t dare look at
Westcliff, but she apprehended the immediate stillness of the masculine form so close to hers.
No, indeed, St. Vincent assured her. It s the morally upright ones who do the worst things in private.
Whereas with an obvious reprobate such as myself, you couldn t be in safer hands. Here, you had better
return to the dining hall under my protection. God knows what sort of lascivious scheme is lurking in the
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