My Wicked Little Lies Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    He’d had no particular intention to marry. The world was filled with lovely women and they were most enjoyable. Besides, he had reached the age of thirty-six without so much as a broken heart. Indeed, had they never met, it was entirely possible he would never have married at all. Of course, then Richard had died and Evie had come into his life and everything had changed. Restless or not, he was a lucky man.
     
    Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
     
    Her gaze jerked toward him. “Did you say something, darling?”
    “Not a thing.” He studied her for a moment. “You seem distracted tonight, my dear. Is something wrong?”
    “No, nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “I have just fallen behind in my responses.” She heaved another sigh, even more heartfelt, as if she were trying to make a point. “I do so hate to fall behind.”
    “I know.” He chuckled but studied her closely. “Is that all?”
    “Yes, of course.” She favored him with a brilliant smile that nonetheless struck him as the tiniest bit forced. Nonsense perhaps but his instincts had always been right about such things, especially her.
    “You do know,” he said in an offhand manner, “if there is anything wrong, you can tell—”
    “You are a dear sweet man, of course I know that. There is nothing wrong and certainly nothing for you to worry about.”
    “Ah, well then, my mistake.” He smiled and lowered his gaze to the page in front of him. He could feel her staring at him and wondered if she knew that he knew she was not being entirely truthful. It might not be obvious to anyone else but it was to him. There was the vaguest look in her eye, the slightest hint in her voice, and something in the way she sat. No, the Countess of Waterston was definitely hiding something from her husband. The question now was what.
    She wasn’t the type of woman to hide expenditures or exorbitant bills. Indeed, she took spending money—his money—as her due. The Earl and Countess of Waterson did need to keep up appearances. No one would ever call her frugal but she’d never been especially frivolous in her purchases. He suspected if she ever was, she would not keep it from him as she’d no doubt find it amusing.
    It couldn’t be an illness of some sort. One could see she was in excellent health by the glow of her skin alone. Besides, she knew full well how Richard’s denial of his eroding health had taken a toll on Adrian. Evie would never do that to him.
    Could his wife be feeling the same sort of restlessness gripping him of late? The need to do something. Anything. The desire for the unexpected, for a touch of excitement. The odd longing, for once, not to know what was going to happen next.
    The thought struck him without warning. Wives who were restless ... A cold hand squeezed his heart. He ignored it. What utter rubbish. His wife was certainly not dallying with another man. Other men’s wives perhaps but not his. That was the worst sort of conclusion to leap to and not at all warranted. He trusted her completely, with his life if necessary and certainly with his heart.
    He drew a deep breath. Evie had never done anything to make him question either her affection or her fidelity. She was not the type of woman to be led astray. That the tiniest doubt now surfaced was probably more a result of his own current state of unrest rather than anything of a substantial nature on her part. He’d never really known jealousy before yet apparently he was not immune to it. That, too, was distressing—he had thought he was a better, or at least a more rational, sort of man.
    “Oh bother,” she muttered, and his gaze slipped back to her. She pushed away from the desk and stood. “I’m going to finish this in the morning, which will only put me even more behind, but it can’t be helped, I suppose.” She brushed an errant lock of hair away from her face and frowned at the need to do so. “You’re right, you know.”
    “I usually am.” He