Scandals of an Innocent by Nicola Cornick

family lawyer, too,” he said thoughtfully. “Perhaps he could be…persuaded…to my cause.”
    “I have met Mr. Churchward and I doubt that he is corruptible,” Alice said sharply, “family lawyer or not.”
    “I am afraid you are probably right,” Miles conceded wryly. “Which is how it should be, I suppose. I do not really want a dishonest solicitor working for me.”
    “Only when it suits you,” Alice said. “There is more, my lord.”
    “Of course there is,” Miles said ironically.
    “In order to prove his worthiness to Lady Membury’s satisfaction—and to that of my trustees,” Alice said, “my future husband has to fulfill a certain requirement.”
    Miles sighed. He was starting to dislike the deceasedLady Membury quite intensely. He had no doubt that Alice was telling him the truth about the codicil to her inheritance—and that she was taking great pleasure in doing so. He supposed that it was the least he deserved for forcing her hand.
    He sat forward. “Name Lady Membury’s stipulations,” he said.
    “Her terms are that for three months you must be proven to be utterly and completely honest in your dealings, not only with me, your future wife, but with everyone else, too,” Alice said very clearly. “You must speak the truth on all occasions. You must be honest in all your transactions.” Her gaze held a hint of mockery as it rested on him. “You are a ruthless, deceitful manipulator, my lord. Never in a thousand years could you achieve such a thing as total honesty, though I do believe it would be the most painful punishment for you to try. I feel sure you would fall at the first hurdle.”
    Miles stared at her. For a moment he thought—hoped—he had misheard her.
    Utter and total honesty in his words and his dealings?
    What had that mad old fool Lady Membury been thinking?
    Utter and total honesty for three whole months?
    He was not sure what was showing on his face. Alice was watching him with interest and a certain degree of amusement.
    “I knew you could not do it,” she said with satisfaction.
    “Miss Lister,” Miles said, “there are very good social reasons for not being honest all the time.”
    Alice smiled slightly. “You need not tell me that,” she said. “I was not the one who set the condition. AndI would not be expecting you to be honest if I ask you whether I look plump in a particular gown,” she added. “We are talking here about fundamental honesty of character, Lord Vickery. We are talking about you being at heart a sincere and worthy man.” Her smile grew. “Oh dear, you look appalled. I do realize that the concept of honor is completely foreign to you.” She raised a brow. “I take it, then, that you are withdrawing your attempt at blackmail and that we need not trouble Mr. Churchward and Mr. Gaines? I know you would not be able to meet the terms, anyway.”
    “Oh, I can meet the terms,” Miles said. He got to his feet and turned away from Alice for a moment so that she could not see his expression and know he lied. It was impossible to open his heart and reveal the unvarnished truth about his thoughts, feelings and behavior. He had not done such a thing since he was a youth, in the last, appalling, disillusioning interview he’d had with his father before he’d left to join the army. Telling the absolute truth was to reveal one’s weaknesses and vulnerabilities. It was to lay oneself open to pain and hurt. Being honest never paid. It was not a course of action that he would ever take voluntarily.
    And yet that did not mean he could not meet Lady Membury’s ridiculous conditions and win Alice’s fortune. Over the past ten years Miles had become so accomplished at disguising the truth, bending it, using it, molding it to his will that he was completely sure he could do the same now. Alice and her trustees would never know the difference between his carefully constructed pretence and total honesty.
    He turned back to her. She was waiting with