Free The Dangerous Viscount by Miranda Neville Page B

no stretch of the imagination could any of Sebastian Iverley’s interactions with the Howard sisters be described as charming. Diana, on the other hand, had discovered that he possessed a certain appeal. The truth was, she’d enjoyed their kiss. Not the kiss itself so much, especially his first attempt when he’dmashed her lips rather painfully. She believed Blake’s claim that his cousin had never kissed a woman. The sequel had been better and might have turned into something quite pleasurable had they not been interrupted.
    But what she’d enjoyed the most was Iverley’s unexpected strength. Not only had he carried her around as easily as if she were a small child, she’d warmed to the sensation of his hard muscles, pressing herself against him quite shamelessly. Frankly, she relished his youthful virility. Her husband had been a generous and attentive lover, but not a vigorous one. And he was, when it came down to it … old. The next man she took to her bed would have the vital energy Tobias had lacked.
    And here he was, as gorgeous as ever, the sunlight catching the gold of his hair and enhancing the blue of his eyes.
    “Ladies,” Blake said. “I’ve been searching for you.” “We’ve been discussing Diana’s diet,” Lady Gee said.
    Felicia giggled.
    “We were wondering where you gentlemen had hidden yourselves,” Diana said.
    “We’ve been shooting. Except my cousin. He left Mandeville this morning. He asked me to convey his regrets and farewells.”
    “Really?” asked Lady Gee.
    “No, not really,” Blake replied. “That was a liberal interpretation of one of his grunts.”
    “That’s very naughty of you, Blake,” Lady Gee said.
    “Diana,” Blake said. “A word with you in private. About that little matter of business.”
    “My, my!” Lady Gee said, her eyes round with curiosity. “What secrets do you two share?”
    The last thing Diana needed was for Lady Georgina to get wind of that bet. It would be all over England within days. But she couldn’t ignore Blake’s offered arm. And why would she wish to? Now that Iverley and the silly wager were out of the way, she could return to her principal objective for the remainder of her days at Mandeville. “Nothing of any moment,” she said lightly.
    Once they were out of earshot, Blake presented her with a bank draft. “Five hundred pounds and worth every penny to see old Owlverley fall for you,” he said.
    Diana felt a wave of distaste for the whole business. Without looking at it, she tucked the paper into her pocket. She would, she decided, give the money to charity.
    “You don’t think he found out, do you?” she asked.
    “Certainly not,” Blake reassured her. “He hadn’t an idea. A package of letters came for him today. I met him in the hall after breakfast and he told me his uncle is dying.”
    “Poor Mr. Iverley. How sad for him.”
    “Lucky Mr. Iverley! He stands to inherit a fortune.”

Chapter 7
    London, the Burgundy Club in Bury Street,
September 1819
    T arquin Compton, sitting with the Marquis of Chase, hailed him the minute he walked in. “Here he comes, the new viscount, returned from the frozen north.”
    Sebastian sank into a well-padded leather chair and looked around appreciatively at the sitting room of the new premises. “You have no idea. I’ve inherited the coldest, most uncomfortable house in England.”
    “Before I start weeping, let’s not forget that the biggest coal mine in England comes with it. There’s not a collector in England who’ll be able to outbid you when there’s a book you really want.”
    Chase, usually addressed as Cain, was a more recent and therefore politer acquaintance than Tarquin. He nodded at Sebastian’s black armband. “May I offer my condolences?”
    “Thank you. My uncle complained he was dying for years. Turns out he was right. At least I saw the old man before he went.”
    “Did you know him well?” Cain asked.
    “Depends what you mean by well. I lived with