JUST love your house, Nicky,” Pamela Ritchie gushed when she found him in the library. “It’s—so grand! Your mother was such a dear to show me around.”

Nicholas smiled tightly, saying nothing. With anyone else, he’d have been proud to hear his home praised. But he’d learned something about this luscious brunette during their torrid two-week affair of several years past, and that was that she rarely meant anything she said. Oh, she was impressed with Silverley, but she was surely peeved not to be the lady of the manor.

When their affair ended, he heard through the servants’ grapevine that she destroyed her bedroom in a fit of temper. He’d seen her occasionally after that. She always had a warm smile for him, but to catch her unawares was to see Pamela fuming.

Women like Pamela and Selena always clashed with his own quick temper eventually. In his wilder days he had known every kind of female temperament, but there was only one he’d been in real danger with, and that was the lovely Caroline Symonds. But fortunately, she was married to the old Duke of Windfield. He had not seen Lady Caroline for three years, and the pain of their separation was long gone.

“We were wondering where you had gone off to, Nicky,” Pamela was saying. She perched, uninvited, on the edge of a chair near his desk. “Tea is being served in the drawing room. More people have arrived. Don’t know them, some squire or—oh! And your lovely wife finally made an appearance. A charming, sweet girl. Of course, I’d met her before, don’t you know, season before last. She was all the rage then. The young bloods were falling all over themselves just for one of her smiles. I was even a little bit envious until it became apparent that something was, well… wrong with her, poor thing.”

He had known the silly chattering thing was leading up to something, but even so he found himself stiffening. “Am I supposed to guess what you mean by that?”

She laughed, a tittering sound. “I was hoping you would tell me. Everyone is simply on tenders to know.”

“Know?” Nicholas said curtly.

“Why, to know what you found wrong with her.”

“I find nothing wrong with my wife, Pamela,” he said coldly.

“So you won’t fess up? Gallant of you, Nicky, but not very enlightening,” she sighed. “You can imagine the stir you’ve created. It isn’t every day one of our most eligible bachelors marries and then leaves his wife practically at the altar. It is rumored that one of Lady Reggie’s uncles handed you over to her in chains.”

It was not easy for Pamela to be assured that she had scored. Only the tension in his hands showed his anger. She had wanted him to fly into a rage. Pamela harbored more spite for this man than she did for all her other lovers come and gone combined. She had formed serious plans for Nicholas Eden, and he had laid them to ruins. Bloody philandering cur. She was delighted he had ended up with a wife who didn’t suit him.

“That particular rumor is an absurdity, Pamela,” Nicholas said tightly. “I returned to England in James Malory’s company simply because he was kind enough to offer me berth on his ship when he found me stranded in the West Indies. And,” he went on quickly before she could say anything, “I hate to disappoint you, but it was business that took me away from my bride. An emergency on an island property that couldn’t wait.”

“Another man might have taken his bride along, extended honeymoon and all that,” she interjected. “Odd you didn’t think of it.”

“There wasn’t time to…” he began, but she smiled and rose to leave.

“It will be interesting to watch the two of you, though. Strange that you should be entertaining so soon after your wedding.”

“This little gathering was not my idea.”

“Yes, your mother sent the invitations, but you were already here, so I assume you wanted a party. Well, they do say the best way to relieve boredom is to have a party. I just hope you weren’t thinking of a personal party between the two of us when you had me included on the guest list. Married men don’t attract me, if you know what I mean.”

She whirled out of the room before he could reply. Nicholas remained seated, staring at the door. He had been turned down flat, without his even making an offer. The cheek!

A fierce protectiveness rose in him. Something wrong with Reggie, indeed! He left the library with every intention of finding his wife and devoting himself to her fully for as long as a single guest remained in the house. But when he stepped out of the library, glancing toward the entry hall, he saw Selena Eddington alighting from her carriage. Fuming, he went to find Miriam. “What I find amusing is that you kept such close tabs on me all these years,” he told her. “Such devotion. Of course it enabled you to know exactly which people I would not wish to see.”

“Not at all,” she replied with a tight little smile. “There are, in fact, many kind souls who feel a mother should be informed of what her son is doing in wicked London… and with whom. You can’t imagine how many good intentions I had to sit through, appearing grateful, when I didn’t care if my so-called son drowned in the Thames.” She gave him a look of pure hatred. “Yet, bits of information do sometimes have uses.”

Fury flashed in his eyes. He turned and headed for the stairs, Miriam’s delighted laughter following him.

“You can’t hide all weekend, Lord Montieth,” she called scornfully.

Nicholas didn’t look back. What the bloody hell did the conniving, spiteful old bitch hope to accomplish by inviting two of his ex-mistresses to his home? And, good God, how many more surprises awaited him?