A Scandalous Marriage by Cathy Maxwell Page A

air experimentally. “What is the smell?”

    “It’s a spice warehouse. I bring my cargo here. What was unloaded two days ago has already been sold.” He rested a proprietarial hand on a bag. “This is pepper. Over there, cinnamon bark.”
    “It doesn’t smell the same here as it does in the kitchen.”
    “Because you need to crush it to bring the flavors out.”
    Leah touched the bag of pepper, wrinkling her nose from the scent of raw spice and dust. “Julian says a gentleman does not deal in trade.”
    “Julian says a great many things,” Devon murmured. He wondered what she would say if she knew his other investments and holdings.
    She ran her hand back and forth across the rough cloth. “You don’t agree with him.”
    “Obviously.”
    “Why not?”
    He considered the danger of contradicting her precious brother—but, then, she had asked. “There is nothing wrong with Julian’s opinions. They are shared by many. He’s part of the old order, Leah, of a society that doesn’t see the world is changing. On the other hand, I embrace change. I believe a man must make his place in the world. It’s exciting times we live in. Revolutionary times. England rules the world, and with that rule comes opportunity, new ideas. Inventions! Why, Leah, I have seen designs for new mechanics that will change even the way we travel from one place to another. Roads won’t be needed.”
    “Roads? We’ll always need roads.”
    “And lights. We won’t need candles.”
    “You must have candles!”
    “Leah, there are already streets with gaslights, and someday, there will be gaslights in our own sitting room. Some homes already have them. I’ve dined in them.”
    “I’ve never dined in a house like that.”
    “You have to leave the Marriage Mart and the narrow thinking of the ton to find houses with gaslights.”
    He shook his head. “A wise man is one who involves himself in what will be the future. I’m happy to let men like my cousin Rex and Julian worry about the past. I’m building an empire of my own.”
    Leah somberly considered his words. People milled around them, occupied with their own concerns, but Devon scarcely noticed them. He centered on her: Her opinion seemed important to him.
    Her lips twisted thoughtfully. “I think I like your view of the world better than Julian’s,” she said at last.
    “He is always so angry. Perhaps each of us. should search for our own happiness. To be bold and not afraid of change. But I don’t like revolutions,” she admitted candidly. “However, I think you are happier than my brother, who spends his time gaming and drinking.”
    If he hadn’t already been in love with her, he would have tumbled head over heels in that moment.

    She smiled at him, almost as if she could read his approval. A glint of anticipation appeared in her eyes.
    “Now, my lord merchant, where do you hide your silks?”
    He laughed. “Spoken like a woman. The silks are next door up the stairs on the first floor. That way, if there is flooding, they are safe. Come, I’ll show them to you.”
    Unfortunately, the door to the silks was locked. The warehouse manager had left on errands. Leah was obviously disappointed.
    “I wanted to see the silks. Are they lovely?”
    “Exquisite,” he answered as they marched down the stairs.
    “Will the warehouse manager be back?”
    “Perhaps. But we can’t linger. Not if I am going to return you home without rousing suspicion.” He started walking toward the hack, but she didn’t come. “Leah?”
    She was looking up at the building. “Do those upper windows go all around?” She didn’t wait for his answer but charged toward the corner of the warehouse.
    “What are you thinking?” he asked, following.
    She glanced right and left to see if they were alone. This side faced another warehouse with only a walkway in between. “I could peek in that window up there if you’d give me a leg up.”
    “A leg up? You’re not serious.”
    She began