Seductive Deception

Chapter 10

"Madam Cerise gave you this address? How do you know for certain she knows lady Allegra?" Strickland asked, dangling the paper in his hand before giving it back to Morgan and crossing his legs. He was dressed as if they were headed to the opera, decked in pinstriped navy trousers, a lime green waistcoat with a paisley lime green tie, and carrying a cane that he tapped incessantly whenever he disagreed with something.

Before Morgan could reply, Tess jumped in. "She knows every lady and gentleman in London! I have no doubts that she knows of Lady Allegra."

"I presume she knows of me?" Strickland asked, pointing at himself, blond brow askew.

Tess' lip quirked as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Doesn't every lady of ill repute?"

Strickland snickered in reply, grinning as he tapped his cane. "Only the lucky ones."

Tess gasped, but Morgan drowned it out, watching as the hustle and bustle of mid-afternoon London passed by his window.

Morgan, Tess, and Strickland were all on their way into town to meet with someone at Misses Thornbury's School for girls following the address given to him by Madam Cerise.

Morgan regretted asking his cousin Tess and his newfound friend Strickland to come. He loathed carriage rides, crammed into a space not meant for him. With the crushing heat, overpowering scents of ladies' floral soap, men's cologne, and the jarring motion as it rocked back and forth, it was a veritable torture device on wheels.

Morgan would be lying to himself if he didn't wile away the time until he met with Madam Cerise again, spending his days doing manual work.

He'd met with her three times, and each time he'd left, he'd done so with her on his mind, smiling like a fool.

He spent most of his days coordinating the maintenance around the yards, chopping wood and helping deliver coal for fires, mending fences, feeding the livestock, fixing the paving stones for residential homes, and assessing the damage to a barn from a recent high wind. Anything he could get his hands on, he dug in, despite his aunt and cousins' protests that earls didn't get their hands dirty.

He needed to be outside. He needed the sun on his back and the strain on his muscles. And while it sometimes caused his injured arm to ache, he relished how he felt doing physical labor.

It was a good distraction from life, from his expectations, from memories of his time on the Peninsula, from memories of Aggie, but strangely and most mystifying, it was a distraction from Madam Cerise, who'd somehow managed to creep into his thoughts despite his reluctance to allow her in.

Hell, he'd almost kissed her yesterday. He didn't even know what came over him, but he was mesmerized by her. He told himself it was the heat of the moment, the fact that he'd been quarreling. Quarreling always left men with a cockstand. But this, this was different. And he'd been fighting that too.

Whatever happened in that alleyway in the polygon, he promised himself it wouldn't happen again. He'd scared her. Made her second guess everything as he stood there in front of her, almost lifting her veil.

He shook his head. How could he be such a fool?

She'd offered to help him and he'd nearly taken advantage of her.

And even more concerning, the more he saw of her, the more he grew to hate the idea of her disguise. He took what he could get from her— like a greedy monger— visions of her lush bottom lip, alluring gray eyes, dainty hands, and vibrant red boots, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

He hated the idea of her cape hiding her lean, beautiful body, seeing only slivers of it when she moved. He hated the idea of her mask concealing her face, which he'd begun to wonder about, fantasize over.