Practically Wicked Read Free Page A

it you never come downstairs with your mother? She throws wonderful parties. You’d enjoy yourself, I think.”
    “I doubt it.”
    “You’re enjoying yourself now, with me,” he pointed out. Reasonably, to his mind. “The ballroom is brimming with fellows just like myself.”
    “Inebriated?”
    “Yes,” he allowed. “Also, exciting and charming.”
    She eyed him with frank curiosity. “Is that what you’re doing coming to parties like these? Dedicating your life to being exciting and charming?”
    “I don’t dedicate myself to anything,” he assured her, lifting his chin from his hand. “Entirely too much work.”
    “Being a member of the demimonde isn’t work? Drink and women and scandals.” She shook her head lightly. “Seems prodigiously taxing to me. Why do you do it?”
    “Because I can,” he replied with a careless lift of one shoulder. “Because I’m not supposed to.”
    She digested that quietly a moment before speaking. “A viscounty comes with many responsibilities, I imagine. Will you change your ways now?”
    “I have changed my ways, sweet. That is how I landed here. And I must say, misshapen furniture notwithstanding, I rather like where I am at present.” He smiled at her and watched the faintest of blushes bloom on her cheeks. “How is it you knew of my nickname, but not that my brother was the viscount?”
    To her credit, she merely blinked at the sudden change of subject. “When one spends little time outside one’s rooms, one gains information in bits and pieces. I encountered your name and reputation in passing.”
    “Everything you do is in passing. A moment in the ballroom, a mere peek out of the opera box. I’ve never met the man to have spent more than thirty seconds in your company.”
    A flicker of unease crossed her features, but it was gone almost the instant it arrived. “Do you mean to brag to your friends to have been the only one?”
    “And be banished from your mother’s home?” He made a scoffing noise. “I’ll keep the accomplishment to myself, though it will cost me. You’re the subject of considerable speculation, you know.”
    “Am I?” She digested that behind a shuttered expression. “One would think people would have something more compelling to discuss than a woman of whom they know nothing.”
    “It’s the mystery of the thing,” he explained. “What will become of the spoiled, reclusive daughter of the notorious Mrs. Wrayburn? Will she follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a member of the demimonde, will she marry a tradesman with the fortune to keep her in silk and diamonds?”
    “Perhaps I’m not as spoiled as people seem to think,” she countered softly. “Perhaps I’ll marry a pauper and reside in a cottage in the countryside.”
    “And live off your dowry?” He considered that. “Do you have dowry?”
    “You’d have to ask my mother.”
    “Hardly matters,” he decided. “Who are you going to meet, peeking into ballrooms and parlors long enough to give us all a glimpse of your fae eyes and fine feathers, and hiding away upstairs for the rest of the night?”
    “I don’t hide,” she replied, a whisper of defensiveness creeping into her voice. “And I’ve met you.”
    “I hope you’re not expecting a proposal.”
    Her lips curved. “You’re shortsighted to not consider the notion. You could do your duty to the viscounty and shock good society in one fell swoop.”
    “That is an excellent point.” Leaning toward her, he offered a lovelorn expression. “Will you marry me, Miss Anna Rees?”
    “No, Lord Dane. I will not.”
    The quick rejection surprised him into sitting up. There wasn’t a single unmarried woman of his acquaintance who would refuse an offer, even a drunken one, from a peer. “You would turn down the opportunity to be a viscountess?’
    “Gladly.”
    He pressed his lips together in thought before asking, “Is it because I’m the viscount?”
    “No, it is because I have no interest in