"You must be the new vicar. "
"You are very perceptive. I’m the Reverend Simon Pagett, here to take up the living. " He glanced down at the sleeping Montague. "Is he dead?" he asked in a voice as cool as hers.
"Of course not!" she hissed. "How could you ask such a thing?"
"Simon's never been one to avoid the truth, no matter how ugly it is. " Monty's voice came from the chaise, sepulchral and amused. "I'm afraid I'm not ready to stick my fort into the wall, dear boy. Sorry to disappoint you. "
"Good," the man said. "That means there's still time to save your soul. " He glanced toward Lina. "And your strumpet's soul as well. "
Lina drew a deep, shocked breath, but Monty chuckled. "You know as well as I do that I haven't changed that much, Simon, even if you have. My strumpets are a different gender. Lina's a dear friend and I'll thank you not to insult her. "
"From the local convent, no doubt," Simon said politely.
Montague snorted. "You'd best have a care, Simon. This is Lady Whitmore. I have no doubt there are at least half a dozen of her admirers who would gladly defend her honor from your prudish, judging ways. Of course. . . the term honor. . . " His smile at Lina took the sting out of his words.
"And where are those half-dozen men, Montague?" Simon said. "When I arrived I saw the carriages, and yet the house seems empty. Where are your licentious playmates?"
'They're at the abbey ruins. I've had it renovated, landscaped. It's really quite delightful, though I doubt you'd appreciate its all-too-human beauty. You'd be shocked. "
"You lost the ability to shock me years ago, though you continue to try. How long have you been ill?" he demanded abruptly.
"It takes a number of years for consumption to kill a man. I don't pay any attention to it. "
"I know you don't," Simon said severely. "And that's why you're in this current difficulty. You can no longer afford to burn the candle at both ends. "
"It's the only way I know how to live. And I didn't invite you here—you weren't supposed to arrive until my guests were long gone. Unfortunately, thanks to Dodson's interference, you've come at a most inopportune moment. ”
"I am desolate," Simon said dryly.
"Still, I suppose it's just as well. Dodson's infernal meddling has forced Lady Whitmore to miss the first night of the Revels out of kindness for me. Lina, my pet, why don't you run along and play. You can still catch up with the party—it's not far past midnight. Simon will look after me. He's done it enough times before. I have no doubt you'll be able to find some amiable distraction, even at this ungodly hour. The Heavenly Host never sleeps. "
"I'll be lucky if I can find anyone stirring," Lina said wryly. “They'll all be unconscious from a surfeit of lust and drink. "
Simon Pagett was looking at her. When she turned to meet his gaze his eyes were filled on Monty, but she could have sworn he'd been watching her. . .
It was an easy decision to make, and she didn't bother to consider why she made it. "I'm not going anywhere, Monty," she said, taking the seat she'd abandoned a few hours ago for the dubious comfort of the floor. "There will be plenty of other times of unbridled depravity for me to enjoy. For now I'm not leaving your side. " She cast a s
ly glance at Simon. "Mr. Pig-ett should feel free to partake of the myriad pleasures the Heavenly Host offers. Perhaps he might understand the nature of the sins he's so roundly condemning. "
"Pagett. " He was calm. And this time when he looked at Lina he didn't try to hide it. "And I assure you. Lady Whitmore, that I have already experienced everything the Heavenly Host has to offer. I'm not interested. " He looked down at Monty. "Despite your friend's deplorable taste in both costume and companions I think it probably wise for her to remain here. You've never been an easy patient. "
"And you've always been a pain in ray arse. Why don't you do as Lina says, and go out to the ruins. Perhaps the decadent souls out there might wish to be saved. I know for a fact they're very fond of succor. " He drew out the last word, long and lasciviously.
"You need to be in bed," Pagett said, ignoring him. "I'd have Dodson call the doctor but he'd probably wish to bleed you and you're weak enough as it is. " He glanced at Lina. "Would you prefer to go back to your friends. Lady Whitmore? I can make arrangements. "
She wasn't quite sure what she preferred. She certainly wasn't pleased with this soberly dressed, high-handed man "making arrangements" for her. She ought to get back and make certain Charlotte was all right. Of course, if there had been any question about her cousin's safety she would never have agreed to bring her, but it wouldn't hurt to set her mind at ease.
"Oh, God, don't leave me to Simon's tender mercies!" Montague begged, his eyes sparkling. "He'll have me in a hair shirt before the day is out. Spare me from reformed rakes—they're the very devil. And yes, Simon, I use that term advisedly. "
"I'll stay. " Lina pressed his thin, weak hand with hers.
"I knew I could count on you," he murmured, casting a speaking look at the vicar.
Lina glanced over her shoulder but Mr. Pagett was expressionless, offering no protest.
Author: Anne Stuart
She couldn't imagine a man like him succumbing to the lures of the flesh. His lined face seemed preternaturally grave—as if he were born that way—and she couldn't imagine a time when he had laughed, cried, charmed, kissed. He really did have a lovely mouth when it wasn't drawn into a thin line of what was either worry or disapproval, disapproval seeming more likely. It was a shame it wasn't used for more pleasurable purposes than denouncing the sinful.