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into
the back of his skull, and he, too, quickly rose to his feet,
turned, and bowed. If a bow could be polite yet still mocking, he
had mastered the art of that particular delivery. It was just one
more deception in the thousands of small deceptions it now took to
be Adam Dagenham. He and Sherry had both become masters of the art,
to give her credit—or her share of the blame. The public devotion,
laced through with the private condemnation.
    “Darling,” Adam purred, indicating that she
should take his seat.
    “Oh, but I can’t, dearest,” she told him,
shaking her head as she spoke, her gaze going straight past his as
she directed her next words to Burnell. “I fear we should be going
back to Grosvenor Square, Mr. Burnell, as I have just told Lady J.
I—I’m worried about Lord Dagenham, truth to tell.”
    “Truth to tell, my lady,” Burnell quipped,
taking her hand and bowing over it, “you’re fleeing for your life,
if I know my aunt. What was it? Whist? She’s rather too obvious
when she cheats at whist. It’s the cards falling out of her sleeve
at inopportune times, I believe, that gives her game away. What was
it?”
    “The ace of hearts,” Sherry said, wincing,
even as her eyes danced with good humor. “I didn’t know where to
look as she tried to stuff it back, so I fibbed about worrying for
Geoff—which he’d never thank me for, I can tell you—and raced in
here to be rescued. I’m so sorry. She’s quite a tartar, your aunt,
but a lovely woman all the same. Really.”
    “Don’t be sorry, my lady,” Burnell said,
kissing her hand before releasing it. Reluctantly releasing it,
Adam noticed. Sherry had that effect on men, and well he knew it.
Once, a lifetime ago, he’d found that male reaction to his wife
amusing. “But I must tell you that your honesty is refreshing. Your
well-meant but truly transparent fib about my aunt, calling her a
lovely woman, when we all know she’s two steps from being an
incorrigible horror, is beyond refreshing.”
    Adam watched as Sherry’s cheeks turned a
becoming pink. “I really should never lie, should I, Mr. Burnell?
I’m shockingly bad at it.”
    “Oh, I don’t know, darling,” Adam slid in
smoothly, just as smoothly taking her arm. “You’re probably getting
much better at it, with all the practice you’ve had. Being in
Society, I mean.”
    He sensed Burnell looking at the two of them
and wanted to kick himself. He should have known better than to
play his and Sherry’s destructive game in front of so astute an
observer.
    But Burnell rescued him neatly. “Good God,
yes, Daventry. We all have to tell no end of lies in Society, don’t
we?” He pulled out his handkerchief, struck a dandified pose, and
grinned down at Sherry. “What a fetching bonnet, Lady J,” he
drawled smoothly. “So original, what with all those green cherries
hanging from it to bang against your nose with every step you
take.”
    He turned to Adam, employing the handkerchief
again as he performed an elegant leg. “Indeed, yes, Your Highness,
that horizontally striped waistcoat most definitely does become
your handsome figure.”
    As Sherry giggled, Burnell pulled a
quizzing-glass from its specially made pocket in his waistcoat and
stuck it to his eye, looking off into a dark corner of the room.
His nose wrinkled and his expression became discreetly shocked, so
that Adam rubbed a finger beneath his own nose, trying not to
laugh. “That’s your wife over there, my lord Sanford?” Burnell
continued. “Do tell. You don’t say so. Lucky devil, you. Haven’t
seen such a lovely woman before, I vow it.”
    He gave an exaggerated shiver as he allowed
the quizzing-glass to drop to his waist from the black riband he
wore slung around his neck. He looked at Sherry again, winking.
“And we all know there’s so very much of Lady Sanford to be lovely, isn’t there—almost as much of her as there is of
our dear Prince of Wales? Oh, the lies we all tell! I say to you,
my