Every Scandalous Secret by Gayle Callen

voice positively gushing. “I saw it, too. Remarkable!”
    “They say the model is a woman of Society.” Lord Keane sounded almost bored.
    Susanna stiffened, the rough bark of the tree digging into her back.
    And then she heard Mr. Wade laugh, and she closed her eyes. She hadn’t realized he was there—would he unthinkingly give away her secret?
    “Perhaps you’re only amused, Wade, because you haven’t seen the portrait,” Lord Keane continued dryly.
    “Oh, no, I’ve seen it.”
    “Every man should,” Mr. Frobisher said with a happy sigh.
    Susanna gritted her teeth, her shoulders tense with worry.
    “But a lady of Society?” Mr. Wade said. “Anyone who would believe that does not understand how a club earns its money. They want you to gawk and trade inspired guesses, all while you buy their drinks. It’s surely a lie.”
    She let out her breath with surprised relief. Mr. Wade had actually deflected interest, as if he were . . . defending her.
    Or defending his own side in a wager, she reminded herself. But in that moment, she felt too grateful to care about his motives.
    “Why must it be a lie?” Lord Swanley asked with curiosity. “Not all young ladies are saints. Some give a man far more than he’s expecting.”
    They all laughed. Such men would never imagine there might be other reasons a woman might be so desperate.
    “Trust me,” Mr. Wade said. “It’s only advertising, nothing more.”
    Someone clapped hands, and Lady Bramfield called, “Let us walk farther. Have any of you seen our famous local ruins? A Roman temple, surely.”
    Voices rose in a chorus of excited agreement, and Susanna stepped around the tree, only coming to a stop because Mr. Wade blocked her way.
    He was watching her with interest, those green eyes assessing, then held out his arm. “You are not so inclined to see the remains today, Miss Leland?” he asked softly.
    She straightened her shoulders and placed her hand on his forearm. “Whatever would give you that idea, Mr. Wade?”
    “Perhaps you heard something distressing.”
    There was no sympathy in his voice or demeanor, and she appreciated that.
    “No, Mr. Wade, nothing unexpected, anyway. Men are a vulgar species.”
    “We’re an entirely different species?”
    “It sometimes feels that way, yes.”
    “But two separate species can never mate,” he said, his face too obviously affronted. “How would we bear it?”
    She willed herself not to blush, knowing that she was too old for such a reaction to the intimate topic. “So you know about classifying creatures by species?”
    He blinked at her. “Classifying by species? I do not know what you mean.”
    She studied him with narrowed eyes. He was behaving too innocently, and she did not know him well enough to interpret. “Species are grouped together because of certain likenesses. But I know not all of you men are alike. And certainly the male members of my family do not mind a lively intellectual conversation. There must be other men of similar bent.”
    He grinned. “You are not walking with one. Have you written Keane off your list of eligible gentlemen?”
    She glanced ahead, where most of the guests led. Lord Keane was escorting Lady May, and her trilling laugh probably could have been heard from the next parish.
    “Not yet. Some men hide their true selves from other men.”
    “But not me.”
    “Why did I know you would say that?”
    He laughed.
    “So are you qualified to give advice on every man here?” she asked.
    “I might be, but you won’t need to return the favor. I already know the type of woman I want—though I am too young to be in a hurry to marry.”
    “How lucky for you. Do describe her for me.”
    “She’ll be accomplished, of course, in every feminine art.”
    “I’m shocked that your first word wasn’t ‘beautiful.’ ”
    “I am not so shallow.”
    She gave a slight cough of disbelief. “I think you simply know what to say to me.” Which led her to deduce he could