A Kiss for Lady Mary by Ella Quinn Page A

The ladies are in the morning room. May I ask the name of your friend?”
    Doust slid a look at Kit.
    This got worse and worse all the time, Kit thought chagrined. His own servants didn’t even recognize him. Why the devil had he waited so long to come here? He was beginning to feel as if he was the wrongdoer. “I am Mr. Featherton. You must be Simons.”
    The merest flicker of distaste passed over the butler’s face. “Indeed, sir. I shall escort you to the ladies straight away.”
    As they followed the butler down a long corridor, Kit couldn’t help noticing that the carpets were clean and in good repair, the woodwork gleamed, and the wall sconces sparkled. The walls appeared recently painted, as well.
    Simons opened a door, and bowed as Kit and Doust entered the room.
    “Lady Eunice and Lady Mary,” the rector said, “how are you doing this afternoon?”
    The older woman rose. “We are quite well, Mr. Doust.” When her gaze lit on Kit, a line appeared between her brows, then disappeared. She smiled as if she’d been expecting him. “Mr. Featherton, how good of you to bring our dear friend with you.”
    A younger woman standing in front of the French windows started, then stared at him with the same silver eyes that had haunted his dreams. Her golden hair was dressed in a simple knot, loose curls framed her oval face, and her countenance had changed from a friendly smile to a mask of fear.
    What, by all that was holy, was Lady Mary Tolliver doing pretending to be his wife?
    Of all the females in England, she was the last one he expected to see at Rose Hill. Something was vastly wrong with this situation, and he had many more questions than answers. Prime among his concerns was why in the bloody hell she was here in the first place. Almost no one outside of his family even knew he owned this property. A rage he’d never experienced before rose within him. What a fool he had been, spending the past couple of years mooning over a fraud. Had she planned to trap him into marriage?
    Keeping his eyes fixed on her, he set a pleasant smile on his face and strode toward her. When he was no more than a foot away, he took her hands, raising one then the other to his lips and placing lingering kisses on each palm. Damn the butler for having left the door open and Doust for being there at all. There was nothing for it but to play his part. “Aren’t you happy to see your husband, my dear?” Lowering his voice so that only she could hear, he added, “And are you prepared for the consequences?”
    Mary took in Mr. Featherton’s broad shoulders, his fashionably styled chestnut-brown hair and piercing blue eyes. The most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen.
    Of all the gentlemen who could have appeared, why did it have to be Mr. Perfect? If only she hadn’t talked herself out of what she knew in her heart to be true.
    Featherton . The one man who had completely ignored her during her only full Season, and here she was posing as his wife. A person of no importance, her foot! What had her grandmother been thinking?
    The humiliation of that first Season came flooding back. That no one else knew about it mattered not at all. She knew that he’d danced with almost every young lady except her. She’d even saved dances, hoping he would ask her, but he’d never claimed them, forcing her to make excuses about needing a flounce mended in the ladies’ retiring room, or being too warm and requiring a glass of lemonade.
    How could she have been so wrong? More than once he’d been heading straight in her direction, and each time she could have sworn he was finally going to request to stand up with her, but he’d always veered away at the last moment to ask another girl to take the floor or to speak with some gentleman. She must be the last lady he wanted to see at Rose Hill. It didn’t matter. He had never cared about her , and she did not want him .
    Still, she could barely breathe. It was a miracle she was not lying in a dead