His Wicked Seduction by Lauren Smith

had created in his head was even close to reality, Horatia would be a Christmas present worth unwrapping. With that mistletoe nestled against her breasts, he would be tempted to kiss every inch of her bosom to honor the tradition properly.
    “Would she wear such a gown?” Lucien asked Audrey. He wouldn’t mind the cost of the garment, but if Horatia refused to wear it, it would be an unspeakable crime against the gown, its maker, and Lucien’s very ungentlemanly thoughts at that moment.
    “She would wear it, if you asked her to,” Audrey replied, her attention now fixed on the gloves she’d taken from the box. She rubbed one of them against her cheek, gave a sigh of pleasure and set them back in the box.
    “And what do you mean by that?” Lucien felt breathless as he awaited her response. Just what did she know?
    Audrey shrugged. “She values your opinion. If you gave the gown to her and asked her to wear it then she would.”
    Her answer seemed so resolute that Lucien couldn’t help but believe her.
    “Then you have our order, Madame Ella. Just as Miss Audrey requested.”
    “It will be my pleasure, my lord. Miss Audrey has the finest taste.”
    Lucien patted Audrey’s soft hand. “Indeed she does.”
    He instructed the modiste to send the bill for the gown and gloves to him. As they left the shop, he pulled Audrey aside, her maid staying discreetly a few feet away.
    “You mustn’t let Cedric know I bought the gown. Do you understand? Lie if you must, say you purchased it.”
    “Why should I—”
    Lucien shushed her. “I can’t buy a woman a gift such as that and not have the entire ton thinking she’s my mistress, your brother included. Think of the consequences.” When her eyes widened and she gave a curt little nod, he knew she understood. Her sister’s reputation was paramount.
    Horatia clung to her dark blue velvet cloak, pulling the ermine lined hood tighter against her face. Charles slapped the ribbons over the backs of the pair of horses, urging them to speed up. They were headed towards Bond Street, where no doubt Audrey had dragged Lucien to do some shopping since Cedric would be busy with other matters.
    “Why are you in a hurry, Charles?” She leaned back in the carriage and glanced over her shoulder to check on Ursula, who rode in the back. “We barely rode at all in the park before you insisted we return them to the stables.”
    When Charles shot a look her way she saw his gray eyes were oddly turbulent, mirroring the stormy winter clouds above their heads. “I just remembered I need to take Audrey to see Avery. He’s back in London, you know. I’d be in trouble if I didn’t take her out on the Town for the afternoon with him. He does so adore your sister. You are welcome to come.” He glanced her way again.
    Horatia shook her head. She didn’t feel the least bit sociable at the moment.
    “You needn’t drop me off at home. Ursula and I can hire a hackney to get back.”
    He scoffed as though affronted at leaving her alone. “Nonsense. I see Lucien up ahead. He’s with your sister. I’ll have him escort you home.” The words came out in an oddly strained manner, as though he was torn on the matter. “You don’t mind if I leave you with Lucien?”
    “No, I do not. He will see me home safely, just as he’s always done.” Why she added the last part she wasn’t sure, but she felt it necessary to reassure Charles.
    Horatia put a gloved hand on his arm. He didn’t even seem to notice. “Charles, are you unwell?”
    He tensed. “No, I’m well enough. There’s much to give me worry these days. Don’t fret on my behalf.”
    She stared at him for a long moment, wondering if she ought to inquire further as to the nature of his distress. Charles was always close-lipped when it came to such things. Her brother always claimed Charles couldn’t keep a secret, but Horatia knew better. When it came to matters of the heart, the Earl of Lonsdale could remain silent forever. She