“Which is how it should be, I suppose. I do not really want a dishonest solicitor working for me.”
“Only when it suits you,” Alice said. “There is more, my lord.”
“Of course there is,” Miles said ironically.
“In order to prove his worthiness to Lady Membury’s satisfaction—and to that of my trustees,” Alice said, “my future husband has to fulfill a certain requirement.”
Miles sighed. He was starting to dislike the deceased Lady Membury quite intensely. He had no doubt that Alice was telling him the truth about the codicil to her inheritance—and that she was taking great pleasure in doing so. He supposed that it was the least he deserved for forcing her hand.
He sat forward. “Name Lady Membury’s stipulations,” he said.
“Her terms are that for three months you must be proven to be utterly and completely honest in your dealings, not only with me, your future wife, but with everyone else, too,” Alice said very clearly. “You must speak the truth on all occasions. You must be honest in all your transactions.” Her gaze held a hint of mockery as it rested on him. “You are a ruthless, deceitful manipulator, my lord. Never in a thousand years could you achieve such a thing as total honesty, though I do believe it would be the most painful punishment for you to try. I feel sure you would fall at the first hurdle.”
Miles stared at her. For a moment he thought—hoped—he had misheard her.
Utter and total honesty in his words and his dealings?
What had that mad old fool Lady Membury been thinking?
Utter and total honesty for three whole months?
He was not sure what was showing on his face. Alice was watching him with interest and a certain degree of amusement.
“I knew you could not do it,” she said with satisfaction.
“Miss Lister,” Miles said, “there are very good social reasons for not being honest all the time.”
Alice smiled slightly. “You need not tell me that,” she said. “I was not the one who set the condition. And I would not be expecting you to be honest if I ask you whether I look plump in a particular gown,” she added. “We are talking here about fundamental honesty of character, Lord Vickery. We are talking about you being at heart a sincere and worthy man.” Her smile grew. “Oh dear, you look appalled. I do realize that the concept of honor is completely foreign to you.” She raised a brow. “I take it, then, that you are withdrawing your attempt at blackmail and that we need not trouble Mr. Churchward and Mr. Gaines? I know you would not be able to meet the terms, anyway.”
“Oh, I can meet the terms,” Miles said. He got to his feet and turned away from Alice for a moment so that she could not see his expression and know he lied. It was impossible to open his heart and reveal the unvarnished truth about his thoughts, feelings and behavior. He had not done such a thing since he was a youth, in the last, appalling, disillusioning interview he’d had with his father before he’d left to join the army. Telling the absolute truth was to reveal one’s weaknesses and vulnerabilities. It was to lay oneself open to pain and hurt. Being honest never paid. It was not a course of action that he would ever take voluntarily.
And yet that did not mean he could not meet Lady Membury’s ridiculous conditions and win Alice’s fortune. Over the past ten years Miles had become so accomplished at disguising the truth, bending it, using it, molding it to his will that he was completely sure he could do the same now. Alice and her trustees would never know the difference between his carefully constructed pretence and total honesty.
He turned back to her. She was waiting with nothing but the most polite interest showing on her face. Miles took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb gently over the back of it. Her skin felt warm and deliciously soft. He felt a tiny tremble rack her. Her lips parted and he heard her catch her breath. The hunger for her that was within him sharpened like a knife. He had to have Alice Lister. One way or another he would achieve it.
“I will do it,” he said.
“Money is a truly remarkable inspiration,” Alice said, “if it can persuade even you to reform.” Her voice was slightly husky. Miles felt his body stir. Once again he had a sudden, shocking urge to kiss her, to take that soft red mouth with his and dip deep within her. He pulled her to her feet, drawing her closer to him until her hands were resting against the smooth blue superfine of his jacket.
“It is only for three months,” he whispered against the golden curls that had escaped from her neat little yellow bandeau and were tickling his lips. “I do not intend to reform for good. Only until I have you—and your money.”
He watched the color spill up under her skin, pink as an opening rose. “Of course,” Alice said. “How foolish of me. You cannot change.”
“Why would you seek to change me?” Miles asked. “I am far more amusing unreformed.”
He saw a flash of something in her eyes that looked almost like pain. “You are dangerous and ruthless and arrogant unreformed,” Alice said. Her voice was husky.
“Precisely,” Miles agreed. He leaned closer until his lips were barely an inch from hers, tantalizingly close. “Much more amusing.”
Alice shook her head a little. He saw the deep blue of her eyes darken to the color of twilight. He could sense the resistance in her, but it was overwhelmed by the attraction she had to him. He doubted that she even understood what was happening between them. She was so transparently innocent that it felt unfair to be taking advantage. Except that Miles never let such scruples weigh with him.
“Do we have a deal, Miss Lister?” he murmured. His lips brushed hers. “I will contact Churchward and Gaines to confirm that I will fulfill Lady Membury’s requirements as your affianced husband. By good fortune I am expecting Mr. Churchward to arrive from London any day to discuss my inheritance of Drum.…”
He saw Alice blink and pull herself back from the brink of sensual awareness. A shade of disquiet touched her face. She took a step back from him as though she had belatedly become aware of how far she had let him take control and how far he had affected her senses.
“You go too fast, my lord,” she said. “I have not given my consent yet.”
“But you will,” Miles said. “Think of your mother. Think of Miss Cole. You have no choice.”
A flicker of temper flashed in Alice’s eyes. “I understand that there is a family curse associated with your inheritance of Drum, my lord,” she said. “Can I rely upon it to carry you off before the knot is tied?”
Miles laughed. “It certainly won’t happen before our wedding night, sweetheart.”
Alice pulled a face. “A pity. But perhaps I could hasten it along.” She swished away from him. “Let us be clear, Lord Vickery. I detest you. You are the last man on earth I would wish to wed and if I am forced into this then—” she paused and then met his eyes defiantly “—ours will never be more than a marriage in name only.”
Miles burst out laughing. “You are in no position to be negotiating terms, Miss Lister. A marriage in name only? I don’t think so.” He crooked a finger under her chin and brushed his lips to hers again. They were soft and yielding and he wanted to deepen the kiss and
