Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)

Lily had to confess no, shaking her head. “For myself. We’re making adjoining studies in the new house. One for him, and one for me.”


It was high time she had her own space for recordkeeping, rather than always using Leo’s study. She’d already agreed with Julian that she would take responsibility for the household accounts, as well as the investment of whatever funds she brought to the marriage. For all her teasing, it seemed she was the stuffy, boring clerk in their relationship.

“I’ll take it,” she told the gallery owner.

He bowed with obsequious gratitude. “Very good, my lady. An excellent choice.”

Yes, she rather thought it was. With a grand new house to furnish, Lily was discovering a new appreciation for shopping. The company of friends increased her enjoyment. Over the past week, the three of them had spent part of every afternoon wandering the shops. Obviously Lily had known Amelia all her life, and even though they’d only been introduced to the new Lady Ashworth a week ago now, the three of them got on well indeed. Meredith was a sensible, plainspoken woman, with a heart for hospitality and head for business, which gave her something in common with Amelia and Lily both.

“Adjoining studies,” Meredith said, examining the hinges of the desk as Lily closed the top. “I like that idea. I’ll talk to Rhys about such an arrangement for the new Nethermoor Hall. He plans to meet with some architects while we’re in Town.”

When Meredith walked away, Amelia caught Lily’s attention. “I’ve been meaning to ask, are you and Mr. Bellamy attending the Carstairs’ party Wednesday next? Spencer is reluctant, as ever. But if the two of you attend, I might be able to convince him. Or at least I’d be assured of having someone to talk to after he disappears to the card room.”

Lily hesitated. “The Carstairs’ party?”

Amelia nodded.

“I … I’m not certain. We hadn’t yet sent our reply.”

In actuality, they had not received an invitation. Lily told herself she shouldn’t be surprised. She’d expected this might happen when her hasty wedding to Julian became known. Obviously Mrs. Carstairs wished to communicate her disapproval of Lily’s marriage, or perhaps her envy of it. Lily was almost ashamed to realize how it annoyed her, being cut by a woman who last year would have counted it a coup to host any Chatwick in her home. Even Tartuffe.

She shook off the irritation. No matter. Slights like these would serve to teach her who their true friends were. And Lily had two very good ones right here in this gallery.

She followed the gallery owner to the back counter, to sign off on the expense and arrange for delivery of her new desk. While he prepared the bill, her eye wandered to the soaring expanse of paintings behind him. They were mostly the standard decorative scenes: pastoral landscapes of ruined castles, still-lifes with vases of flowers and bowls of fruit. Nothing particularly caught her interest. Disappointing. She and Julian needed something to hang on the walls, after all. She noted a curtained doorway leading to another room.

Once the bill of sale had been signed and settled, and the address of the new house given, Lily asked, “Have you another gallery?”

“There is another room, my lady.”

“May we see it?”

The man’s cheeks flushed pink to match his waistcoat. “My lady … I’m afraid that gallery is for gentlemen only.”

Lily thought she must have misunderstood him, but then Meredith appeared at her side. “What do you mean, for gentlemen only?”

“The paintings there are of a … shall we say, earthy nature. Not suitable for ladies.”

“What’s all this?” Amelia joined them.

“He means to protect our delicate female natures from scandalous paintings,” Meredith informed her. To the shopkeeper, she said, “We are all married women, sir.”

“Nevertheless.” The man tugged at his cravat. “Your husbands are not present. Without their express permission, I am sure I cannot—”

Meredith laughed. “Must we send for notes with their signatures?”

“Ridiculous,” Amelia said, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. “My husband, His Grace, the Duke of Morland, would be displeased indeed to be troubled on such a trifling matter. Do your worst, sir. We shall ready our vinaigrettes.”

Lily laughed. She thought they stood a decent chance of deviling him into capitulation. But in the end, it wasn’t necessary. Amelia and Meredith suddenly wheeled to face the door, clapping with excitement. Lily followed their gaze.

Ah. Julian had finally arrived. He’d promised to meet her here after his day’s business was done.

All three ladies rushed to greet him at the door. Lily, however, was the only one to claim the pleasure of a kiss on the cheek.

“What’s this? I haven’t known such a rousing female welcome since—”