Two-faced. Sweet in company, acid in private. But no, that wasn’t quite fair. Artemis had never been sweet, and she was the sort of lady who would never create a disturbance in front of servants. She probably believed everything she’d said about Cate. She was wrong, however. Wrong. Cate could never have rejoiced at the death of a child, or plotted to kill his brother. Prudence knew that in her heart, but her brain warned that Artemis was right in one thing—Prudence didn’t know her husband well at all. All very well for Cate to say their acquaintance had been deep, but it was still very, very short. What disgrace had he brought here? He’d said something as they’d drawn close to this place. Why had he and his brother argued so violently? Perhaps a raging argument could cause a seizure of the brain, but surely no one could design such a thing. Certainly not Cate. His flaw was hot impulse, not cold cunning. Yet . . . he’d confessed how much he’d always wanted Keynings. She sighed and rolled her head back, trying to release painful tension.
What do You think about An Unlikely Countess (2010)?
