Page 48 of A Countess Never Tells

Lord Baltimore.

Dear God. Somehow the man had discovered what he and Kitty had done yesterday. But how? A spy who’d followed them from the park? A servant from home who’d sold the information to Baltimore? That hurt almost worse than the threat of exposure.

“Devilish dog.” The unknown speaker cackled softly. “Come, Baltimore. I demand to know the details.”

“Very straightforward, actually.” There was a pause, and Ash peered through the ornamental leaves. Baltimore had stopped his tale to take a pinch of snuff. On tenterhooks, he gazed at the man as he calmly opened the gold heart-shaped snuff box, took a pinch, and set it on the back of his hand then snorted it violently.

Of all the ridiculous affectations, taking snuff was the one that set Ash’s teeth on edge the most. So it made a perverted kind of sense that Baltimore would be one who partook of it. Foppish ass.

Ash took up his glass again and drained it.

Baltimore sneezed several times before seeming to be over the worst of it. “Miss Tate agreed to go on a carriage ride yesterday afternoon around Hyde Park. Mistake number one for her, as the moment she set foot in an enclosed carriage she was compromised.”

Ash had to admit that was true. But as he intended to marry Kitty, he didn’t think the ton would be overly harsh about that particular infraction. What had gone on afterward, however, had been flagrantly wanton. If Baltimore’s spies had somehow caught wind of it, Kitty would indeed be ruined. The new king was a stickler for correct behavior, especially in a young woman. If they heard of it, Kitty would risk the displeasure of the king and queen who could banish her from Polite Society. Even their hasty marriage might not scotch such a scandal. It all depended on how much Baltimore knew.

“Was there more, then?” The stranger’s voice rose in anticipation of more salacious details.

“Oh, yes, there was definitely more.” Baltimore’s smug voice made Ash’s heart sink.

“Once she climbed in and the carriage began to circle, we conversed only a few moments before I slipped my arm around her shoulders.”

Frowning, Ash shook his head, trying to understand what had just been said. Baltimore was alleging that he not Ash had been in the carriage with Kitty?

Relief washed through him. Not only was his secret tryst with Kitty still secret, but Baltimore’s lie meant none of Ash’s servants had betrayed him. Of course, this lie had dangers of its own, but none so dangerous as what had actually taken place.

“She slid closer to me, arching her neck and thrusting her breasts out like the prow of a ship. Such a delicious sight, I swear I could scarce contain myself.” There was a catch in Baltimore’s voice, as though he actually had ogled Kitty’s breasts. Well, most likely the wretch had done so—from afar. Imagination could do marvelous things for a man. Whatever his pretense, at least that was pure fabrication. Kitty would never stoop to dallying with the likes of Lord Baltimore. Ash checked himself abruptly. She still hadn’t told him who’d given her that first kiss. Could it have been Baltimore?

A sickening certainty hit Ash like a blow to his gut in Broughton’s boxing ring. Why else would she have refused to tell him? He clenched his fist around the wineglass stem, finally got himself under control, and set it on the floor again before it shattered in his hand. He applied his ear then his eye to the small hole in the barrier of palm fronds, wanting to both see and hear everything at once.

“And then?” The stranger sounded spellbound.

“I kissed her, starting at her little pink ear then slid my lips down her neck, cherishing every little gasp and moan that came from her mouth.”

A curtain of red descended over Ash’s eyes, as though he was peering through a veil of blood. Baltimore’s words were lies, plain and simple. Kitty had been doing those things, and more, but with him. Somehow it mattered not at all that he knew the truth. He wanted to put his hands around Baltimore’s neck and squeeze until the man’s eyes popped out of their sockets.

“When I slipped my hand into her corset and set her breasts free for me to kiss and caress at will, I tell you, I thought I would spill myself there and—”

“You lie, Baltimore.” Ash could stand no more. He pushed through the potted palms, knocking them askew as he strode up to Baltimore, who, for once, looked shocked rather than smug. He backed away, his wig slipping over one ear in his haste as Ash charged him.

“Have you resorted to hiding in the potted plants, Ashwood?” Baltimore sputtered, obviously taken aback by the sudden appearance of his enemy. “Eavesdropping is hardly the purview of a gentleman.”

“Neither is lying, Baltimore. Although that seems to be your favored milieu these days.” Ash had heard from a reputable source that Baltimore had been caught in lies more than once in the past few months. “But I will thank you to keep your falsehoods to yourself if they concern Miss Tate. You have lost that wager, I assure you. Spreading lies about my betrothed will gain you nothing save an appointment with the tip of my sword at dawn.”

“Now who’s the liar, Ashwood?” The baron had recovered himself, his face taking on its characteristic smirk. “You’ve sworn time and again you’ll never marry or only in your dotage. I doubt Miss Tate’s brother would even entertain you as a suitor.”

“He’s done more than entertain the notion, my lord.” Ash sent the man a cocky grin. “Just this evening, he gave us his blessing and agreed to a courtship and marriage between Miss Tate and me.” Ash eyed the man, who looked so angry he could chew glass. “And if you doubt my word, by all means, go ask him yourself.” Ash gestured toward Lord Haxby on the far side of the room.

“I believe I will do just that, Ashwood.” Baltimore drew himself up, still determined to play out what he apparently believed to be a wild bluff on Ash’s part.

“Please do.” Ash bowed, gesturing for Baltimore to precede him. Now for the coup de grace. “You might wish to consider, however, that Haxby is privy to the wager you made regarding his sister.”

“What?” Baltimore stopped mid-stride.

Ash indulged in a smirk at the baron’s expense. “After we met last, I took it upon myself to inform Lord Haxby of your wager, the one where you announced you could compromise Miss Tate before the week was out.” Ash shook his head as Baltimore’s jaw dropped. “I must tell you, the gentleman did not take the news well at all.”

“And did you inform his lordship of your part in the wager? Or did you conveniently leave that part out?” The man’s eyes had narrowed to slits.

“Oh, I informed him of that as well—and that my participation was totally unwilling. As he has since given his blessing to a marriage between myself and his sister, I can only assume that he believes me.”