Regency Rogues: Stolen Sins: Forbidden Nights with the Viscount (Hadley's Hellions) / Stolen Encounters with the Duchess (Hadley's Hellions). Julia Justiss
in less: conversing, flirting—even a simple kiss.
‘My father and I would be honoured if you would come to dinner tomorrow night,’ she found herself replying.
His smile broadened and his eyes lit, as if she’d just given him a treasured gift. ‘Then I will certainly be there.’
‘Until tomorrow night,’ she said, a little giddy. What was she getting herself into?
He escorted her out and summoned a hackney. ‘You are sure you’ll be all right? You don’t even have a maid or a footman to carry parcels.’
‘I never bring my maid if I’m visiting Parliament—she’d be bored to death, poor thing, and it would unnecessarily delay her work. Since I’m ordering supplies for dinner, they will be delivered later anyway, so no need of a footman to carry parcels.’
‘What, no gowns or slippers or feminine fripperies?’
She laughed. ‘At the risk of having you find me totally unwomanly, I confess I don’t spend much time on gowns and slippers and fripperies.’
‘I could never find you anything but delightful.’
At that, she looked back up at him, into eyes that once again seemed to see deep within her. Enchanted, mesmerised, she didn’t want to look away. Every nerve quivering with awareness, had they not been standing on a public street, she might have gone into Hadley’s arms.
A pedlar with his handcart pushed past them, breaking the spell, and Maggie stepped away. ‘You’d better summon a hackney yourself, else you’ll be late to your meeting.’
‘Thank you again for accompanying me for tea.’
‘And to you, for tea…and your warning.’
He turned as if to go, then paused, looking back at her over his shoulder. ‘Do you really think I could beguile you?’
‘All too easily,’ she answered, before realising it would have been more prudent to turn that question aside.
He reached over to take her hand. Little eddies of delight swirled through her as he raised it and brushed his mouth against the thin kidskin sheathing her fingers. ‘Then I’m very encouraged. Send me the invitation. I’ll definitely come…exchange views with your father.’
With a bow, he handed her up into the carriage, waved his cane in farewell, and walked away.
Hand tingling, even more enchanted than she’d been after their interlude in Chellingham, Maggie watched him until the departing carriage set off, robbing her of the sight.
That evening, Maggie waited up for her father, who had attended a dinner with some of his political cronies at Brooks’s. Although she was certain the marquess would not object to including Giles Hadley in their gathering—the purpose of the entertainment being, as she’d told that gentleman, to explore a wide range of ideas—she also knew he would be surprised by her invitation, and curious.
Best to meet that curiosity head-on. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure she could do a very good job of explaining it to her father when she didn’t fully understand it herself. She just knew she wanted to see more of Giles Hadley, and since he didn’t attend society functions and was unlikely to turn up at Tory gatherings, luring him to her father’s home was probably the only way she was going to manage it.
She really didn’t want to tell her father that.
But since the invitation had been tendered, the gentleman had accepted, and she had no intention of revoking it—the need to see him again being greater than her reluctance to discuss the reasons for it with her sire—she’d have to tell Papa—something.
She was dozing over her book in the library when at last she heard her father’s distinctive step in the hallway.
‘Papa, could I have a word with you?’ she called out as he passed the library door.
At the sound of her voice, he stopped short and peered into the room. ‘Is that you, Puss? What are you doing still up?’
‘There’s something I wanted to inform you about. Nothing of importance, but I know you will be tied up in committee meetings all morning, and was afraid I might miss you. It will only take a moment.’
Her father came over to place a kiss on her forehead. ‘I always have time for you, sweeting. Shall I pour you some wine?’
‘No, this really won’t take very long.’
‘I think I will rest these old bones while we talk,’ he said with a smile as he seated himself. ‘So, what’s amiss?’
‘Nothing! It’s just that I invited someone else to join us for dinner tomorrow night, and wanted to let you know beforehand.’
‘I thought we’d included everyone we thought could contribute to the conversation. Who did we forget?’
‘Well, it’s not someone we normally include, but he does have quite interesting views. You’ve even told me you admire him, though you disagree on almost every particular. It’s Mr Hadley—Mr Giles Hadley.’
He looked perplexed for a moment before the name registered. ‘Viscount Lyndlington, you mean! Unusual that he insists on spurning the title, but I suppose, given the situation between him and Telbridge, understandable. Of course he’s welcome, Puss—but how did you come to invite him? I wasn’t aware that you were acquainted.’
‘Oh, yes! I met him in Chellingham—you remember, I was canvassing for Michael, and he was there to rally support for Mr Reynolds. We spoke briefly, and I found him quite interesting. Then today, we spoke again when he came up to the Ladies’ Gallery after he’d given a speech at the Commons.’
‘An eloquent plea for passage of the Reform Bill, I understand.’
‘Yes, he’s quite an excellent speaker. If it is inevitable that the bill will pass the Commons, and he is certain it will, then it might be useful to have a thorough discussion before it comes before you in the Lords.’
‘You must have found him persuasive.’
‘I did. Not that I agree with all his views, of course. It’s true, though, that there was quite a lot of reform talk even in Chellingham, and that borough is as conservative as conservative comes.’
‘I will look forward to debating his views.’
‘Very good, Papa. That’s all, so I’ll bid you goodnight.’
When she came over to give him a kiss, he caught her hand, staying her. ‘Had I forgotten you telling me you’d met Mr Hadley in Chellingham?’
Maggie felt her face redden, and hoped in the dim candlelight, it wouldn’t be apparent. ‘I don’t believe I mentioned it, specifically. Since at the time, I wasn’t sure whether or not I would ever see him again, I didn’t think it important.’
‘Nor can I remember you visiting the Ladies’ Gallery any time recently to hear the speeches.’
‘I’d been remiss in not visiting sooner.’
‘This young man must have made quite an impression on you.’
So much for thinking she’d got through their little chat without having to explain her interest in Giles Hadley. ‘Yes, Papa, he did,’ she admitted.
‘I thought your favour might lie with a different Mr Hadley.’
‘George?’ She shuddered, and for a moment, debated telling her father it was almost certain that Mr Hadley had been spying on her. But asking Papa whether he’d authorised such a thing, especially when she was nearly certain he had not, might force her to disclose she’d seen a bit more of Giles Hadley than she’d thus far