Viscount of Vice: Lords of Scandal Book 4 Read online

  Viscount of Vice

  Lords of Scandal Book 4

  Tammy Andresen

  Copyright © 2020 by Tammy Andresen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  www.tammyandresen.com

  Hugs!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Baron of Bad

  About the Author

  Other Titles by Tammy

  Chapter One

  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, 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 small 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 appeared 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 tiny 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, 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. Why did women insist on being so naively romantic? That was another trait most women he dallied with decidedly lacked. They understood the world for the harsh place it was. Not like Ada…

  Ada tapped his arm with her fan. A light touch that made the fabric of his waistcoat brush against his arm with a bit of 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. His voice held disdain rather than dewy-eyed optimism. “You’ve already told us.”

  She angled toward him then, her mouth slightly parted, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “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. Her thick, pale blonde hair was artfully arranged to highlight her high cheekbones with their perfect pink coloring. 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 giggled. “You’re quite funny. You’re usually so quiet, I didn’t realize you had a sense of humor.” 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 their 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. They needed to keep his secret and he needed to make certain they were safe. A mad woman named Lady Abernath had been terrorizing the Chase women to expose Vice and his friends. 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 hints of honey laced into her sweet smell. Without meaning to, he drew in a deep whiff. Delightful.

  She shrugged but her face tensed and she clasped her hands in her lap. Dropping her head to look down at them, 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, leaning close. “My sister and cousins often call me little bird. I suppose it’s because I tend to flit about 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. Why would a woman as beautiful as her not see her own value?

  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.”

  He turned to her then, realizing just how close she was, an inch, perhaps two, and he could press his lips to her softly parted ones. He fisted his fingers to keep from caressing her face. Dam
n he wanted to kiss her. How did she manage to entice an experienced rake like him? “What is it?”

  “Ruiner of rakes,” she answered, looking him directly in the eye. “Can you imagine a sillier name?”

  Was she moving closer? He blinked twice trying to make his eyes work properly when she straightened away again. “You? Ruiner of rakes? I’ve met some women in my day who could claim that title, but you? A woman capable of making a sinful man repent?”

  She gave a tiny shrug. She didn’t pull away but he did notice a tiny crinkling about the eyes, almost as though she were wincing. “I know. It’s absurd really.”

  He narrowed his gaze. Was she challenging him? His mouth curved into a smile as a new idea caught his fancy. If she wanted to wage a war in the field of affection, he was game. And if she really did have a reputation as a reformer of rakes, well, she’d make a nice addition to his list.

  Having her attention would help accomplish another goal as well. In fact, his job would be far easier if she wished to be by his side. He’d agreed to keep watch over her when she was in public. It was the reason he sat next to her today. Ada had discovered a secret about his friends and he needed to make certain she kept that secret. And recent events dictated that he also keep her safe.

  A tiny voice niggled in the back of his thoughts that he was as bad as his mother had claimed him to be. But he pushed that thought aside. He was helping her. That much was certain and he wouldn’t go so far as to actually ruin her reputation. The game was harmless. Better than harmless, it helped to keep her safe.

  He gave her his most charming smile. “Not absurd at all. I see it now. Your hair reminds me of sunset on a warm summer day and your eyes are the color of new grass. How could a rake not be enchanted?”

  Rather than smile, she grimaced, her full lips turning down into a decided frown. “I don’t know what you’re playing at but it won’t work with me.”

  He started, which pushed him toward the edge of his chair, and his back slipped off the narrow strip of wood it had been leaning against. He was never clumsy and he didn’t understand it now, but in sickening slow motion, he fell to the side, catching his hand on the very piece of wood that had just failed him. The problem was that his weight had shifted to one side of the seat, at least that was what he decided later. In the moment, however, he careened off to one side, both him and the chair crashing to the ground. Gasps filled the air as the organ came to a grinding halt. He looked up to find Ada staring at him as though he’d grown a second head.

  * * *

  Ada looked at the Viscount laying at her feet, tangled in his chair. She nibbled at her lip trying to decipher the gravity of the situation.

  First, she’d just lied through her teeth. No one in the history of the world had ever considered her a ruiner of rakes. It was a complete falsehood. In fact, they often teased her for being bland and frightened by everything, men especially. She wasn’t sure why they scared her so. They were a mystery to her when everyone else seemed to understand them so perfectly. Diana, for example, understood exactly how to make a man do what she wanted him to do precisely when she wished him to do it.

  But Ada went silent every time a handsome man spoke to her. Twice, she’d tripped on her own feet when one had asked her to dance, and once, she’d managed to push her partner into the punch bowl. It was the most humiliating scene of her life. Well, except for right now. She wasn’t certain how, but she surely was to blame for his spill onto the floor.

  But worse than the falsehood she’d just told was that her lie had clearly discombobulated the Viscount and once he realized she’d fibbed, well he’d be even angrier. Men were usually furious when she tripped them or sent them flying into the punch. Ada never got away with falsehoods. Some people could, but not her. Diana swore that every lie was visible on her face. It must be true. How else did she get caught every time?

  And she was certain he already suspected the lie. Hadn’t he said so when he’d told her that he’d known women who could carry the title of rake ruiner? She was certain he had. And implied in that statement were two facts she’d long known about herself. One, she was not that sort of woman at all. Her past had underscored that fact over and over. And two, a man like the Viceroy would never be interested in her. He’d all but said the words himself. Which was likely why she didn’t stumble all over herself in his presence. She’d been able to talk and she hadn’t tripped him once. Until now, of course.

  “Lord Viceroy, are you all right?” She reached down as the entire wedding party stopped to stare at them. He took her hand but was too tangled in the chair to get up.

  Standing, she righted the wooden seat and then reached down for Lord Viceroy again. Wedged in a small aisle, she meant to help him stand with as much dignity as possible. But he pulled before Ada had planted her feet. Rather than helping him stand, she toppled forward landing directly on him, her face nearly smashing into his. He stuck his hand between them, which was a good thing. If he hadn’t, their teeth might very well have crashed together but his knuckle hit her cheekbone and a sharp pain made her roll to the side.

  “Ouch,” she cried.

  He wrapped his other arm about her, just managing to keep her from crashing into the chairs while she planted one hand on the floor next Viceroy’s face, the other pressing to his chest. Moving his hand, he cupped her cheek and turned her face. “Damn it all to hell,” he muttered. “You’re going to have a bruise.”

  She tried to scramble off his body, but her skirts had gotten tangled from her movement on top of him. Her legs wound about his and their hips pressed together. All the contact…well…it heated her blood. Or was that her embarrassment? No, she was used to that emotion and this was definitely more. She’d never touched a man like this before and he was so muscular underneath her. A pulse began to ache between her legs. So handsome…

  Her breath caught and her eyes widened. Could he tell how she was responding? He was still studying her cheek. “Daring is going to kill me,” he muttered under his breath.

  “It’s not your faul—”

  As if he’d heard, Ada’s brother-in-law, the Duke of Darlington, called from two rows back. “What is going on up there?”

  Ada pressed her lips together. Daring, as Vice called Darlington, was her sister’s husband. But he was also one of Vice’s good friends and they owned the club together along with the Marquess of Malicorn, Earl of Exmouth, and the Baron of Baderness.

  “It’s fine,” she called back as if that made everything all right. At least Vice didn’t appear terribly angry. “We’ll be up in just a moment. No need to worry.”

  “Bloody hell,” Vice said, his normally pleasant features twisting into a frown.

  The man had blond hair with sky-blue eyes, chiseled features, and full lips. Her breath caught again as her hand fisted in his shirt. Which only served to remind her how strong and hard his chest was.

  Vice sat up and somehow managed to pull her up with him, climbing to his feet while holding her. He set Ada back on the floor, his hands firmly on her waist. “My apologies for falling. Thank you for attempting to help me. I did not intend to pull you…”

  She waved her hand. Was he apologizing to her? “The fault was most assuredly mine.” Then she took a step back, nearly tripping on Grace’s feet. Why did she get so flustered?

  Her parents had turned back to stare and Ada wished she could disappear into the floor. Everyone stared. She wobbled and Vice’s hands shot out to hold her in place again. Her skin shivered at his touch. He gave her another charming grin. The sort that looked practiced and false. Her shivers stopped. He made her weak in the knees but not when he looked so rehearsed. That look reminded her that she was one of many women he’d charmed, and likely the least of them. The heaviness that made her limbs clumsy, disappeared. She did not want this man any more than he wanted her.

  “If you insist on taking the blame, I won’t stop you.” Then he winked.

  She narrowed her eyes as she cocked her head to the
side, assessing him. When they’d been tangled together on the floor, she’d forgotten what sort of man he was. For a moment, he was just the handsome, well-built man pressed against her. And honestly, she did respond to him in ways she didn’t fully understand. But when he started talking…. He made her angry, first and foremost. Most likely because she knew a man like him would never actually be interested in her. At least not after she knocked him to the ground a few more times. He’d run away as fast as his feet could carry him. His stock lines were meant for any woman with a pulse. He didn’t recognize her disdain, of course, but Ada was well acquainted with men like Vice.

  She knew what sort she’d marry. An affable fellow that her sister would likely call dull. Sure, Minnie and Diana had tamed rakes but Ada, she’d be lucky to tame her red hair into a coif subdued enough for a merchant or a doctor. She’d been courted by an adventurer. Or that’s what she liked to call him. A man who went off to exciting places to study animals. But even he’d left her. She just wasn’t exciting enough, she was certain of it. Her chest tightened and her head dropped. A clumsy, boring woman. That’s what she was. “You do know that gentleman take the blame as a rule.”

  “I’m no gentleman,” he whispered leaning close. “But if you’d like me to, it can be all my fault. This time and every time.”

  Every time? What was that supposed to mean? She scrunched her brow but his wicked grin that curled his lips told her that he meant something untoward and was now making fun of her lack of experience.

  There was no point in answering, so she sat down, her gaze straight ahead so as not to have to look at anyone. The wedding had ended and the rosy feeling that had filled her chest watching the nuptials was gone. Which was all Vice’s fault. Crossing her arms, she glared at him. She might hate that man.