Free My Wicked Little Lies by Victoria Alexander

at all. I was tempted to lie to him and tell him ‘Of course, I remember your mother! Darling girl. And quite clever as well.’ But that would have been dishonest as not even his name sounds familiar.” She paused. “Well, perhaps it does, but it’s not an uncommon name. Besides, her name wouldn’t have been Sayers then anyway.” She sighed again, this time much more dramatically, and directed her gaze toward Evelyn. “I am unfailingly honest, you know.”
    Adrian choked.
    Evelyn had witnessed any number of occasions when her mother-in-law had, at the very least, bent the truth. She raised a brow. “Unfailingly?”
    “Yes.” Helena nodded. “When I am honest, I am unfailingly so.”
    Evelyn exchanged glances with her husband.
    “You are both lucky that you are my favorites.” Helena huffed. “Now, as I was saying, I can’t remember his mother at all and I’m very good at that sort of thing. Admittedly, I can never seem to find where I last put my gloves, but forty years ago is quite clear. Or it always has been.”
    She turned her attention back to the dancers. “I’m not nearly as indiscriminate as Portia might lead you to believe, you know. I have a list of very nearly all the eligible gentlemen in London. It is only coincidence that several of them are here this evening.” She fluttered her fan in front of her face. “Admittedly, I am not one to let a turn of luck go to waste.”
    “How fortunate for Portia.” Adrian smiled.
    “Indeed it is,” Helena said firmly. “Unfortunately, I fear she cannot see past the fact that I am the one bringing them to her attention or her to theirs. Why, the first gentleman I introduced her to was not unattractive and charming as well. And Portia quite likes children. And the second, while admittedly a bit short, is known to be most kind and amusing and has a significant fortune.”
    “I am certain Portia appreciates your efforts,” Evelyn said.
    “You are a dear girl but it’s obvious Portia does nothing of the kind.” She squared her shoulders. “No matter. She will indeed thank me one day.” Helena met Evelyn’s gaze and chuckled. “But not today.”
    Evelyn laughed.
    “Now then.” Helena glanced around the ballroom. “I see that charming Lord Compton is alone over there. I should say good evening to him.”
    “Don’t you think he’s a little too old for Portia?” Adrian asked.
    “My goodness, yes. He is entirely too old. For Portia.” She flashed them her son’s wicked smile. “Adrian. Evelyn.” She nodded and took her leave.
    “You have a unique and interesting family.” Evelyn’s gaze followed Helena making her way across the room.
    “It’s frightening, isn’t it?” he murmured.
    She smiled wryly. “It’s rarely dull.”
    “One never knows what to expect next.”
    “I beg your pardon, Lord Waterston?” a voice said behind them.
    Adrian turned and nodded. “Good evening, Lord Huntly.”
    “Lady Waterston.” The younger man nodded toward her, then directed his attention back to Adrian. “A few of us are discussing the Irish question, and we were wondering as to your opinion on the latest developments.”
    “Now?” Adrian shook his head. “I don’t know that this is either the time or the place.”
    “And yet,” Evelyn said, “I could swear I have heard you say on more than one occasion that some of the best discussions of political issues occur at social events rather than the hallowed halls of Westminster.”
    “A word of advice to you, Lord Huntly.” Adrian directed his words to the peer but his gaze remained on his wife. “Never marry a woman with a good memory. Failing that, watch carefully what you say to her.”
    Lord Huntly chuckled. “I shall remember, sir.”
    “Very well then.” Adrian met his wife’s gaze. “As this is at your urging, I assume you do not mind my abandoning you.” A wicked light of an entirely different sort flashed in his eyes. “Unless, as you have never been reticent to share your