He gave her a soft smile. The sort that melted her insides. “I love ye, Diana Chase.” He gave her fingers a light squeeze. “I never imagined there was a woman such as ye out there. I’d say ye were waiting for me but we ken ye don’t wait for anything.”
Laughter, reminded her they weren’t alone. “It’s a good thing too. You might be on your way to Scotland this very moment.”
He pulled her closer. “That is very true and an excellent point. I don’t want ye to mistake me. Ye are the perfect woman for me.”
She let out a sigh as the priest moved forward. They were perfect together. Had been all along. And now they’d spend their lives together, filling each other in like the pieces to a puzzle. “And you are a wonderful man.”
“Shall we begin?” the priest asked.
Callum nodded but Diana only smiled. Their story had begun the day they’d met in the club. This was only the next chapter.
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This is the third book in the Lords of Scandal series. Keep reading to see a sneak peak of the next book: Viscount of Vice!
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But Earl of Exile has also begun a spin off series! Want to learn Fiona MacFarland’s story? A Lass to Love is the first of four books in the Brides of Scotland series!
Viscount of Vice
Lords of Scandal Book 4
Lord Blakely Everbee, The Viscount of Viceroy, sat next to Miss Ada Chase as they both watched her cousin walk down the aisle toward his friend, The Earl of Exmouth. He grimaced, inwardly, flexing his fingers. Vice bloody hated weddings. And he especially despised them while sitting next to an eligible woman who, if he wasn’t mistaken, was going to cry.
He nearly spit as he spied the little drop of water forming in the corner of her eye. Then she did what all ladies did. With a delicate dab of her kerchief, she let out a soft sigh. The sort that might lull a man into going soft. “Isn’t this just beautiful?”
Vice had to confess that while the wedding itself was dreadful, the sight of her wasn’t terribly awful. It was rather nice, in fact.
He didn’t dare credit her with any more than nice, however. He was considered by most to be exceptionally handsome, his features near angelic. And he held the women he dallied with to very high standards. They were the most beautiful, talented, gifted, or accomplished women in England and wider Europe for that manner. He’d had an affair, for example, with a gypsy known for her ability to read cards with deadly accuracy and drink vodka with the best men.
He’d carried on with the most famous actress in all of London, been with a Russian princess who was rich beyond his wildest imaginings. All in all, the list of women he’d shared a bed with was an accomplishment in and of itself. One he was proud of.
And Miss Ada wasn’t list worthy. Yes, she was lovely with her pale auburn hair glimmering in the sun and her bright green eyes that only looked more sparkly with the sheen of tears. And yes, her figure was supple, the perfect amount of soft curves with an ample bosom and a tiny waist. Of course, her trembling lip as she stared at the bride and groom made him wonder what she might taste like. And the soft noise of satisfaction she emitted sounded like the sweetest pillow talk he’d ever heard. But Miss Chase wasn’t accomplished at anything of significance…and therefore was not his sort at all.
“That kiss,” she turned toward him then, her eyes a bit dreamy, her head tilted to one side. “Diana is glowing.”
Vice’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Glowing?” His mouth tasted like he’d eaten gravel.
Ada tapped his arm with her fan, a light tap that brushed against his waistcoat with a bit of a tickle. “Don’t you see it? The color in her cheeks. Her breathless smile. It’s just—”
“Beautiful?” Vice filled in the word she’d just used moments before. “You’ve already told us.”
She turned toward him then, her mouth slightly parted. “You don’t think so?”
He assessed her features. Her high cheekbones were flushed with a pinkish-brown hue that accentuated the tiny spattering of freckles across her nose. They were not to his usual taste at all, giving her an air of innocence, but he found he’d like to count them. Perhaps kiss a few. “Weddings are generally a bore. And even worse, all I can think is that the groom has given up all the fun in life to take care of a woman and a passel of brats that are soon to follow.”
Ada sniffed, turning back toward the front. “My goodness, you are dreadful, aren’t you?”
His best friend, the Baron of Baderness, sat two seats away, next to Ada’s cousin, Lady Grace. Now Grace was a woman that might make his list. The features of her face were a perfect mask of feminine beauty. Bad leaned over, making eye contact despite the two ladies between them. “He’s beyond dreadful. I might use the word insufferable,” Bad murmured just loud enough for the four of them to hear him.
Grace let out a tiny giggle. “You’re quite funny. You’re so quiet, I didn’t realize.” That made Bad snap his mouth shut and sit back in his chair.
It was Vice’s turn to chuckle. “He isn’t. He only makes a joke once every five years.”
Ada’s mouth curved into a small grin. The sort where her lips stayed together, not showing any of her teeth. But she shook her head, as though she disapproved, despite her relaxed features. Then one finger came to her chin. “Insufferable?” She looked back at him, her green eyes sparkling. “The word suits you.”
He cocked a brow. By his estimation, Ada Chase had no right to give him any trouble at all. Six weeks prior, she, her sister, and cousins had entered into his secret gaming hell that he ran with five of his friends. They’d learned the men’s secret and put themselves in danger. Now, he and Bad were being forced to babysit the only two Chase women who weren’t wed. The job was worse than attending this wedding.
“And what word might suit you?” He returned, leaning closer. Which might have been a mistake. She smelled of cookies or cinnamon. Perhaps both. No wait, he caught subtle whiffs of honey laced into her sweet smell. Without meaning to, he drew in a deep whiff. Delightful.
She shrugged, but her face tensed and her hands clasped in her lap. Dropping her head to look down at her hands, she pursed her lips. “Am I to insert the word most often used to describe me?”
“If it pleases you.” He sat back feeling as though he’d just won some unnamed battle of wits. He could see her discomfort.
Then she relaxed. Her head drew higher as the lines of her body straightened. Ada looked over at him then, leaning close. “My sister and cousins often call me little bird. I suppose it’s because I do tend to flit with nervousness.”
That sounded about right to him. Looking at her features now, she was just as beautiful, if not more so, than Grace. But she lacked the confidence that drew attention to those looks.
She pressed a bit closer still and her left breast brushed against his arm. His entire body clenched at the light touch as her breath whispered across the skin of his ear, near causing him to shiver. There was nothing mousy about that move. “But in the last year, I’ve gotten a new nickname.”