Read In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) for Free Online

exactly.”
    Aunt
Henry was not tall like her twin brothers but her figure was equally
plump, and her face, round and pink, was equally friendly. She was
dressed all in heavy purple, an amazing feather-studded headpiece on
brown curls that were graying. She linked arms with the earl and
addressed Amanda.
    “And
you’re a very fortunate girl. Your husband takes care of his
responsibilities as a good man should. After my brother Herbert died,
I was terrified that my poor Derrick and I would find ourselves
without a place to live. But James, the dear boy, would have none of
it.” She gazed at James adoringly. “Bless him, for he
offered his home for as long as we need it.”
    Amanda’s
mouth dropped open. “At Lonsdale?” she asked weakly.
    “Naturally.
Where else?”
    Amanda
turned to James. “Herbert was your father?”
    He
smiled at her sheepishly. “Yes. Sweetheart, I meant to tell
you—”
    Aunt
Henry turned away from them, her expression softening as she held out
her hand to a young man who chose that moment to join them. “This
is my son Derrick Bickford, Viscount Lindley,” she said
proudly.
    Reeling
from all the introductions and the realization that apparently all her husband’s relatives would be living with them, she was
unprepared for the young man whom she greeted next.
    The
viscount was perhaps her age, middling height and slim, with
white-blonde hair and eyes so light blue they were nearly
transparent. His features were perfect, almost pretty. He eschewed
the fashionable mutton-chop whiskers because, she suspected, he
didn’t have enough beard to grow them. She would have been
dazzled but for the look he sent her way, equal parts disdain and
lechery. Amanda recoiled inwardly.
    Derrick
took her gloved hand, grazing it with his lips. “Charmed,”
he said, his eerie gaze on James. He straightened. “You’ve
done well for yourself, Cousin.”
    Amanda
was grateful that her glove was a barrier between her and actual
contact with the man. How could anyone so beautiful be so repellent?
    “Thank
you,” James replied in a dry voice. He rescued his wife’s
hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
    “I
suppose that makes us cousins as well,” Derrick said to Amanda.
“Welcome to the family.”
    If
she’d had a gauge to measure sincerity, he would have failed
completely. Although he now directed his remarks at her, she had the
unnerving feeling that they were meant solely for James. An
undercurrent of tension charged the air, and even the viscount’s
mother stirred restlessly as though she were feeling uncomfortable.
    “Would
you grant me a waltz before the end of the evening?” Derrick
continued. “Unfair of James to claim them all.” He raised
his brows at her—waiting—as if aware that dancing with
him was the last thing she wanted to do.
    So
naturally she must consent. “Of course,” she said, her
voice as cool as his was mocking.
    Derrick
smirked, his regard shifting to James. Beside her she felt the earl
tense. When she looked at him, his jaw was working, his expression
stony.
    James
bowed stiffly and, with obvious deliberation, placed Amanda’s
hand on his arm. He sent an apologetic smile to his aunt who looked
crestfallen.
    “We’ll
talk later, Aunt Henry,” he said. One more glance at the
viscount—Amanda would have sworn there was a warning in it—and
he led her away to greet the rest of their guests.
    The
remainder of the evening passed in a blur. It was a testament to the
popularity of Earl Lonsdale and his family that so many of the
aristocracy came to a bridal party hosted by the very common
Archibald Campbell. Most of the earl’s friends were kind and
gracious, but there were those who barely contained their
condescension. Rather than being offended, Amanda made an extra
effort to graciously change their minds. By evening’s end the
talk that filtered through the gathering was almost completely
positive. James Tremont had done well for himself.
    Toward
dawn, James and Amanda