Viscount of Vice

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 did not understand the world for the harsh place it was.

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 whiffs of honey laced into her sweet smell. Without meaning to, he drew in a deep whiff. Delicious.

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?