Candice Hern Read Free Page B

that makes your toes curl up inside your slippers, he is a likely candidate."
    "Oh, my," Grace said.
    "The most obvious candidates," Penelope said, "are those men well-known for their amorous adventures, the most notorious seducers. Cazenove and Rochdale." Her eyes brightened with gleeful excitement. "Which of us shall have them?"
    Adam Cazenove? Oh, no. Not Adam. He was Marianne's dearest friend in the world. Though he'd had a string of lovers over the years, it seemed odd and unsettling to imagine him with Penelope or Beatrice.
    "Have a care, my dear," the duchess said. "Lord Rochdale is a bit too public with his seductions for my taste and not always honorable, I'm told, though it is true he is said to be quite skillful in the bedroom."
    Marianne would not be surprised to learn that Wilhelmina had firsthand experience with Rochdale's bedroom skills.
    "Cazenove is a much more attractive subject, in my opinion," the duchess continued.
    Good heavens. Had Wilhelmina been with Adam as well? An image of his beautiful hands on the duchess, of her beringed fingers in his long hair sent a shudder across Marianne's shoulders.
    "He should be a convenient candidate for you, Marianne," the duchess said. "That is, of course, should you decide you want to get into the game after all."
    Marianne laughed aloud at the very idea. "Yes, he is conveniently situated in the house next door to mine, but he is also a very close friend. I would never dream of violating that friendship. Neither would he."
    Adam Cazenove and David had been the best of friends, more like brothers, in fact. They had bought the adjacent houses on Bruton Street at the same time, shortly after David's marriage to Marianne. The second-floor balconies adjoined, and the two men had made a game of leaping back and forth over the balcony railings whenever they wanted to share a bottle and a bird, or a game of cards, or simply good conversation.
    Adam had become as good a friend to Marianne over the years, and remained so since David's death. In fact, he still climbed over that second-floor balcony railing to visit her in her private sitting room. It was as though that boyish prank somehow kept David's memory alive for him. She could not remember the last time Adam had used the front door.
    But to take him as a lover? Impossible. He was an exceedingly attractive man and she had a great deal of affection for him, but she had listened to enough tales of his love affairs to know that she was the last sort of woman he would find desirable. Not to mention that he thought of her as a sort of sister. No, he was too good a friend ever to be considered as a lover.
    "Well, if you are not interested in him," Penelope said with a grin, "I'm sure he would do very nicely for one of the rest of us. He is certainly the sort of man who could make a woman's toes curl."
    Good Lord. It would be beyond awkward if one of the Benevolent Widows was to take Adam to her bed. Marianne had no desire to hear from one of them the intimate details of Adam's lovemaking.
    "But if you change your mind," Penelope said, "and decide that friends make the best lovers, then you must tell us. We cannot poach on another woman's territory. That should be one of our rules."
    "Absolutely," Beatrice said. "No poaching. But there are lots of other available men besides Adam Cazenove and Lord Rochdale."
    "Sir Neville Kenyon, for example."
    "Or Lord Hopwood."
    "Harry Shackleford."
    "Lord Peter Bentham."
    "Sir Arthur Denney."
    "Trevor Fitzwilliam."
    "Lord Aldershot."
    That last suggestion had come from Grace. When all eyes turned in her direction, her cheeks flamed and she gave a sheepish little smile. "I can get into the spirit of the game, can I not, without actually participating?"
    The ladies stared at her in astonishment for a moment. Then, one after the other, they burst into laughter.
    "Of course you can!" Penelope said, and reached across the tea table to squeeze Grace's hand. Turning her attention to the rest of the