Page 34 of The Vampire's Guide to Wooing a Scholar
He sniffed. “My brother thought you might have… questions.”
Winifred held up her hands. “I assure you I do not!” The law might have considered Marcus’s actions illegal, but she knew there were historical records of similar couples going back millennia. “I am not one to judge who he loves.”
Lord Grayson’s expression changed. One second, he looked like a prison guard prepared to barricade her in her room; the next, he gaped like she’d told him she wanted tojoinMarcus and his valet intheir bedchamber.
“Tell me,” Lord Grayson said as he sauntered closer. “What do you believe you saw before you collapsed?”
“I do not wish to repeat it.”
“Indulge me.”
Her cheeks burned. “You are trying to intimidate me.”
He wagged his eyebrows. “Is it working?”
She grinned. She couldn’t help herself. Despite their physical similarities, the man was entirely different from her husband. Whereas Marcus was shy and reserved, Cordon was confident and flirtatious.
“Tell me what you saw,” Lord Grayson asked again.
It was as if he’d slipped into her mind and set her reservations aside. “M-My husband embracing a-and kissing his valet’s neck.”
“That is all?”
He sounded both relieved and amused, which made her wonder if there had been something else. For a moment, as she’d stared at Marcus’s face, she’d thought his teeth had been… She shook her head. Dwelling on the memory would only further upset her.
She stepped back into the room to avoid any servants hearing. “I know what I saw.” Then, to her horror, a tear dripped down her cheek. She spun around and dashed it away with the back of her hand. That was when she noticed the envelope sitting the letter on her desk. Before she could reach for it, Cordon sprinted past her—how had he moved so fast?—and snatched it. “My lord!” She scowled. “Isn’t that for me?”
“No.” Lord Grayson tucked the envelope into his jacket. “Well, yes, but you are not ready to read it.” Then he winced.
“Yes. No. Why?” He shook his head. It was distinctly odd, like watching him have a conversation she could not hear. She stepped back toward the door, hoping Lord Grayson would follow her out. She trusted Marcus, but she knew very little about his brother.
Lord Grayson clicked his tongue. “My wife would like to speak with you.” He walked to the door and held it open. “She is coming.”
Winifred followed his gaze. A woman was ascending the stairs. She raised her arm and waved, sporting an enormous grin. It was disarming, and perhaps that was her intent, as Winifred immediately relaxed.
The viscountess had long, brown hair piled atop her head in an elaborate chignon and wore a dark-blue, fitted day dress with long sleeves and a square neckline that revealed a startling amount of pale skin. The fabric was embroidered with silver stars and moons that flowed seamlessly from her bodice to her skirt, which was trimmed with several inches of silver lace. She hurried up the stairs and down the hallway, then joined her husband’s side, her cheeks flushed and eyes wide.
“My lady. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you again. You must call me ‘Kitty.’”
It took Winifred several seconds to realize the woman was referring to her. She was entirely unaccustomed to having a title. She dipped into a curtsey—again unnecessary, as she outranked the viscountess—then rose to find Lord Grayson whispering to his wife. Kitty’s cheeks had reddened, and the skin around her eyes was crinkled, as if she were trying to hold in laughter.
Winifred was about to ask what they were discussing, when Cordon straightened. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
He had barely taken two steps before Kitty swept past Winifred. “When Cordon told me Marcus was to be married, I admit I was skeptical. Marcus has always been so…” She sniffed. “Analytical.”
Winifred smiled. “Heisan inventor.”
The countess grinned. “Oh, yes. Cordon and I rely on several items he designed.” She clapped her hands. “Now, show me your closet. While I am here, I should see what I am working with.”
Twenty minutes later, a bemused Winifred stood with her arms outstretched as Kitty crouched in front of her and examined the skirt of her best gown. Despite what Winifred had expected, Kitty did not speak further about Marcus. Instead, she regaledWinifred with the surprisingly charming story of how she’d met her husband. Winifred had to clap a hand over her mouth when Kitty got to the part about Lord Grayson stealing a scarf from her pocket, then brazenly wearing it to her shop. Winifred had only known the man for a few minutes, but she could easily imagine him tempting Kitty into helping him complete the list of scandalous tasks Kitty described.
“There,” Kitty said as she drew her needle through a tear in the velvet gown she’d insisted on repairing, even though Winifred had assured her it was unnecessary, and the duty of a lady’s maid. Winifred got the impression that it was easier for Kitty to converse when her hands were busy.
Winifred could relate. She respected the viscountess for continuing to pursue her passion even after marriage.
“I know relatively little about your husband,” Kitty said. She put her pins, needles, and thread back in the metal box she removed from her pocket. “But I can say he does not show emotion easily. I daresay he cares for you a great deal.”
Winifred’s smile fell. “Our marriage is one of convenience. If he is in love with another—”
