Lauren Willig Read Online Free PDF

out the willowy forms of society’s beauties—were expensive. The identity of the Pink Carnation was a commodity for which more than one person would be willing to pay dearly.
     
     
“A wise decision,” Vaughn granted. “If you persist in going forward with the plan, I suggest you set one of your entourage to the task. Dorrington, for one, appears in need of occupation.”
     
     
Jane gave a slight shake of her head. “Unlike Dorrington, you have something Miss Alsworthy wants.”
     
     
Jane didn’t need to specify. Her meaning was horrifyingly clear. Vaughn could feel the parson’s noose dangling just shy of his neck.
     
     
“Which,” replied Vaughn pointedly, just in case Jane had forgotten certain crucial facts, “she is not going to get.”
     
     
“No,” agreed Jane. “And yet…”
     
     
Vaughn polished the lens of his quizzing glass, squinted critically at it, and swiped at an invisible blemish. “Yet, my dear Miss Wooliston, is a treacherous jade. She’ll lead you astray if you let her.”
     
     
“Yet” kept men gambling when they ought to have thrown in their cards; it outfitted expeditions for cities of gold and fountains of youth; it dulled the critical faculties with false promises, as bright and baseless as the towered palaces of an opium dreamer’s paradise. Yet led one into absurd situations such as this.
     
     
Jane wagged an admonishing finger. “You have a very low opinion of conjunctions.”
     
     
“Of all kinds.” His brief marriage had been enough to convince him of that.
     
     
“No one is suggesting you engage in a conjunction of a permanent sort,” said Jane mildly. “I’m sure we could persuade Miss Alsworthy to lend us her talents with less drastic inducements. And she would be perfect for our purposes.”
     
     
“You mean, for your purposes.”
     
     
Knowing well the power of judicious silence, Jane chose not to answer. She simply continued to look at him, with an expression of calm conviction designed to persuade most men that they had always agreed with her in the first place and were simply being given time to voice it. Vaughn had to admire her cheek. It was one of the few reasons he tolerated her. Her complete lack of interest in his matrimonial value was another.
     
     
So he was to lure Miss Mary Alsworthy into Jane’s schemes with his title as bait, was he? The idea was almost entirely without merit.
     
     
And yet…
     
     
Ah, there she was again, that treacherous jade, that will-o’-the-wisp, that yet. Vaughn pondered the monumental boredom of Gloucestershire and decided that will-o’-the-wisps were the lesser evil. One needed to do something to enliven the stifling ennui of the human existence. And one could only beguile so many empty hours by bedeviling one’s valet or seducing the serving girls.
     
     
And then there were his own purposes….
     
     
“How could I possibly deny any lady such a simple request?” With an unhurried gesture, Vaughn shook out the lace of his cuffs before adding, “Even a fool’s errand is preferable to being forced into another round of hunt the slipper.”
     
     
“But my dear Lord Vaughn”—Jane blinked innocently up at him—”isn’t that exactly the game you have been playing?”
     
     
    * * *
MARY DREW HER LIGHT GAUZE SHAWL more closely around her shoulders, which were beginning to show unbecoming signs of gooseflesh. The wrap, which had been perfectly adequate for London’s overheated ballrooms, did very little to ward off the October chill that pervaded the Great Chamber of Sibley Court. Next to her, a twisted branch of candles did more to cast shadows than spread light. Any attempt at illumination disappeared into the depths of the dusky tapestry on the wall beside her, which appeared to depict one of the gorier episodes from the Bible. At least, Mary hoped it was biblical in origin. Otherwise, that girl really had no business holding aloft that man’s severed head.
     
     
Mary might, she