Free Susan Johnson by To Please a Lady (Carre) Page A

“The young Carre won’t be able to hide long.”
    “You may have your spies, but you don’t have loyalty from anyone, particularly the Scottish populace. I’m not so sure you’re right.”
    “Perhaps I only have to watch you,” he asserted, his tone sinister and low.
    “Do it with discretion, then, because Argyll comes to call. Did your spies tell you? He ate breakfast with us and found some sumptuous lilies, so early in the spring, from someone’s hothouse, no doubt. Be careful, James.” Her warning was softly put.
    “I’m not certain I believe you. You don’t look at him the way he looks at you.”
    “Surely you’re not thinking anything so romantical as love is involved? I’m surprised, James. I’d thought you cynical to the bone.”
    “While you’ve never struck me as cynical at all, my dear.”
    “Perhaps we both have something to learn.”
    “Learn what?” Catherine inquired with excessive sweetness, taking note of Argyll’s wandering attention.
    “The countess and I were discussing the differences between love and amusement,” Queensberry urbanely remarked.
    “And between cynicism and romance,” Roxane lightly added. “James is uncertain, I think, of the distinction.”
    “Love—how quaint.” Catherine’s pale brows arched delicately toward her blond hairline. “Do you believe in love, Argyll?” They’d both married for reasons other than love; she felt sure they’d share a common sympathy.
    “I’m beginning to entertain a fascinated interest in the subject,” he murmured, turning a charming smile on Roxane. “Tell me, Countess, do you believe in love?”
    A sudden hush descended on the table as though everyone’s ears had pricked to attention at Argyll’s startling query. He was known as a man of eminent practicality and loose morals, while news of Roxane’s companion last night had generated the most sensational gossip.
    “Of course, I do. Every woman of passion believes in love,” Roxane smoothly replied. And while Catherine glowered, purse-lipped, she added, “The dilemma facing both James and myself is finding the right man.”
    “You must tell me what style of man appeals to you,” Argyll declared, as though he were alone with her. Arrogant, he ignored her allusion to Robbie as well as the other guests’ avid interest.
    “Someone who makes me laugh,” Roxane answered.
    “I must begin to sharpen my wit, then.”
    “I didn’t know you liked humorous men,” Catherine sneered, her eyes ice cold.
    “I find, with the independence of widowhood, I prefer amusement to excessive ardor.” 5
    “Really,” Queensberry interposed, mockery in his tone. “The Carres are known for their excess.”
    “Do you think so?” Serene and unruffled, she gazed across the table at him. “I’ve always found them men of enormous refinement.”
    “You’re obsessed with the Carres, Queensberry,” Argyll bluntly charged. “Pray overcome your lurid alarm. They’re only one family, not the devil’s host.”
    “They can put a personal army in the field as large as your Campbell troops.”
    “But they won’t. They’ll see to the return of their estates in court like any sensible man would. I’d suggest you concern yourself with your lawyers’ competence first. The Carres haven’t lost a lawsuit, as I recall.”
    Queensberry scowled. “Treason is a serious charge.”
    “You still have to prove it.”
    Queensberry had no intention of relying on the law to secure his appropriated Carre properties. But his voice was neutral when he spoke. “I must rely on Scottish justice—like you, John, in your quest for a union treaty.”
    Both men knew better—bribery and collusion were the means of their ultimate goals. Argyll’s gaze went blank. “Then we can both expect success with such high-minded principles at work.”
    Specious words for men who regarded the cause of justice as incidental to their pursuit of power, and forthat precise reason had been chosen as the English