Free Candice Hern by In the Thrill of the Night Page A

can’t help but believe Marianne did not come up with this idea on her own. I would not be surprised to learn that it was a group decision of some kind, and Marianne got swept up in it."
    "Good Lord. All those Benevolent Widows on the loose." Rochdale rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Spare me."
    Adam grinned. "Willing young widows looking for pleasure? How could you resist such temptation?"
    "With the greatest ease, I assure you. Ladies given to good works make me nervous." He shuddered visibly. "They never really want a quick shag, you know. They always want more."
    "Perhaps not, if all the preaching about independence I've heard from Marianne is any indication." Though Adam sincerely hoped it would not be so crass in her case. She deserved more than "a quick shag."
    "Trust me, Cazenove. None of those women are the type given to an uncomplicated tussle between the sheets. They will wheedle and cajole until they have turned a simple affair into something more serious."
    "That is precisely what I tried to tell Marianne. She is not the sort for a casual affair. She will want more than that."
    "As will all those Benevolent Widows. It's in their blood. I wouldn't go near any one of them."
    Adam smiled. "Come on, old boy. Attractive women out for a bit of pleasure — what could be easier game?"
    "Sorry." Rochdale shook his head. "Not interested."
    "Not at all?" Adam did not believe his lordship for a single moment and flashed a grin that told him so. "The lovely Countess Somerfield?"
    "Very attractive, but not my type. A bit on the cool side."
    "Lady Gosforth?"
    Rochdale shrugged. "I might consider it, in a pinch. I have to admit, she does have a perfectly luscious bosom. Though I cannot say I admire those cropped curls of hers. I prefer a long, thick mass of hair that I can get my hands in."
    "Then Mrs. Marlowe should do quite nicely," Adam said, his grin widening. "All that golden hair. I'd be willing to bet it falls to her waist."
    "I'd be willing to bet she never allows it to do so. Too prim and proper, that one. A bishop's widow, for God's sake. Old Marlowe's ghost would probably be watching."
    Adam let out a bark of laughter, and several patrons turned their heads. He lowered his voice. "Well, then, there's always the duchess."
    Rochdale smiled. "Willie's a dear creature, and a bit of a frolic with her would always be welcome, but I doubt she'd be interested. She generally does not look backward once she has moved on. No, I will keep my distance from the Benevolent Widows, if you don't mind."
    Adam did not mind at all. In fact, the farther away Rochdale kept from Marianne, the better. At least for his own peace of mind. The fellow was a good friend, but Adam did not trust him where women were concerned.
    But there were still all those other gentlemen on that blasted list. What was he to do about them?
     
    * * *
     
    "Ladies, please!" Grace Marlowe wrung her hands in frustration, clearly annoyed that she had lost control of the meeting. Again. "We have work to do."
    She gestured toward the sheets of paper, checklists, ledgers, and account books on the small French writing desk in front of her. The other ladies were arranged in chairs and a settee in the cheerful morning room. Sun streamed in the large windows overlooking Portland Place, giving a gleaming brightness to the white moldings and plasterwork ceiling, and picking out glints of gold on picture frames, porcelain figures, and a fine garniture on the mantel. A fire burned low in the grate, though it was not needed, and the soft aroma of early roses filled the air.
    The duchess smiled and said, "My dear Grace, I believe you must allow us a moment to be merry before we become benevolent. The work will get done."
    "Of course it will," Marianne added. "But we did agree, after all, to allow discussion of these matters among ourselves." She was very anxious to hear if anyone was making progress in the quest for a lover. Despite Adam's advice, she still felt awkward about