Drake Darling could spot a cheater from a mile away. Standing in the balcony of the Twin Dragons, he watched with astonishment as his brother raked in his winnings, time and again, occasionally allowing the lady to take the hand but ensuring the Earl of Landsdowne never again felt the satisfaction of adding chips to his pile but rather was reduced to watching the wooden disks dwindle away.
He was accustomed to Rex using underhanded means in an attempt to prevent their sister from winning, but that was sibling rivalry, and Drake had yet to see Rex outsmart Grace. Drake had never known anyone—man or woman—with such nimble fingers. It was understood that when the family played cards, they were all likely to use questionable means to win. The object was not to get caught doing it. But on Drake’s gaming floor, they were supposed to behave.
He made his way downstairs and out into the thick of the games, his stride casual while his mind whirled, striving not to judge or get angry until he understood the facts. As he approached the table where Rex sat, he watched as Landsdowne shoved back his chair and marched toward the library reserved for gentlemen who were in need of drink or conversation. The ladies had a corresponding library. When he’d decided to open his doors to the fairer sex, he’d recognized that private areas were needed for each gender so they didn’t have to always display the best of themselves.
He was nearly to Rex’s back when he heard him say, “Lady Edith, might I bother you to donate my winnings to your favorite charity?”
Another unwritten rule among his family and friends: ill-gotten gains could not be kept, but were to be bestowed upon someone in need or in a manner that benefited charitable works. So he’d been correct in his assessment: his younger brother had been manipulating the cards.
The lady beamed at his attention. “I would be most delighted, my lord, to see it put to good use. Your generosity is inspiring.”
“Thank you, but it’s the least I can do.”
Truer words may have never been spoken. Drake curled his hand around Rex’s shoulder. “Join me for a drink.”
His brother didn’t flinch. Merely met his gaze head on. When Rex was younger, he fairly worshipped Drake, but with age had come the realization that the lad his parents had taken in and raised as their own wasn’t so very special after all.
Rex signaled for one of the nearby footmen to handle trading his chips for coin and instructed him to deliver the funds to Lady Edith. Drake might have thought he had an interest in the young woman except he’d seen him be as solicitous to any number of ladies, so he didn’t think she meant anything special to his brother. If not to impress someone he might wish to woo, then why clean out another gent?
Drake didn’t say anything until they were safely ensconced in his office, with the door closed and drinks in hand. “I didn’t teach you to cheat so you could fleece my members out on the gaming floor.”
Rex took a sip of the whisky, walked over to the widow, and glanced out. “He deserved it.”
Drake sat on the edge of his desk. Black-haired and swarthy-skinned, he more closely mirrored a devil while his adopted brothers reminded him of angels with their blond curls and fair eyes. Yet at that moment, he didn’t think he’d care to run into Rex in a darkened alley. “Care to tell me why?”
Rex shook his head, took another sip. “Was Lady Landsdowne ever a member?” Before Drake could answer, something seemed to have occurred to the marquess as he added, “Is she a member now?”
“She’s not a member. I suspect she wouldn’t like the chilly welcome she would be apt to receive.” He shook his head slowly, even though Rex had yet to turn his gaze away from the night beyond the window and face him. “I don’t recall her ever coming here while she was married to Landsdowne. Why the interest?”
Rex continued to stare at whatever was happening on the streets below. Another sip. A tap on his glass. A sip. “I’m not sure.” He swung around, leaned against the wall, held Drake’s gaze. “I met her today.”
“And you started thinking with your cock instead of your head.”
Rex laughed, downed what remained in his glass. “I’m not certain I was able to think at all. I’m supposed to be courting her sister.”
Drake was glad to have been half sitting on the desk as he might have staggered back. Although it was high time his brother took a wife, he’d not yet expressed an interest in doing so. But then, Drake had planned to never marry. But that was eight years, four children, and countless rescued animals ago. His wife had a soft heart when it came to children and animals. And on occasion him. “Mother will be happy to hear that. She is in want of more grandchildren.”
Rex scowled. “Between you and Grace she has more than enough. And I’m not going to marry the chit. I made a pact with her uncle to get the other lords interested in her. Apparently, they fear she will be as unskilled at honoring her vows as her sister.”
“And what do you gain?”
“Two winners from Black Diamond.”
Drake whistled. “You’ve wanted that horse for stud since you first saw him race.”
“Indeed. So I’ll play the besotted beau for a bit.”
Frowning, Drake studied his brother. He wasn’t an unkind man, but he was obsessed with the damned horse, with his racehorses overall. “Have you considered the girl’s feelings?”
“I shan’t be with her long enough for any true emotion to take hold.”
“You can’t control the heart.”
“A week at the most. She’ll have young swains falling over themselves to be with her. She’ll cast me aside.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t tell Mother or Grace about this plan.”
“I had no intentions of doing so. As I said, it’ll be over quickly enough. She drew the eye of a few gents when I took her to the park this afternoon. Tomorrow is the theater. One more ball, and it’ll be done.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Take it from someone who knows from experience. Where ladies are concerned, the plans never go the way you expect they will.”
Dear God, but she sat a horse well.
Rexton watched as Lady Landsdowne trotted a dark brown Arabian along Rotten Row. He’d arrived at six. She at seven. He didn’t know why Gina’s offhand comment about her sister riding in the early morning had stuck with him or why he’d felt a burning need to see her. Perhaps because his body was in urgent need of sexual release, although he wouldn’t find it here. Better to tell himself it was part and parcel of his strategy to ensure Gina well situated, but the lie mocked him.
At this hour no one else was about. Daft woman hadn’t brought a groom with her or even the blasted butler. What if she was accosted, what if some ne’er-do-well recognized quality when he saw it and decided he’d like a taste?
He set his gelding into a gentle gallop, following a path he knew would intercept hers. She must have heard him approaching, because she brought her horse to a halt. When he was near enough to do the same, he found himself staring at the business end of a very small pistol, clutched tightly in her gloved hand, her gaze uncompromising and harsh. Apparently the woman saw to her own defense and didn’t require assistance.
“Lady Landsdowne.” He spoke calmly, evenly, the way he might to a skittish filly. “It would be a shame for your sister to lose her solitary suitor so shortly after acquiring him.”
“Would it?”
He wasn’t reassured that she sounded quite doubtful. “Indeed. I assure you that she would mourn my passing. A great many women would, in fact, mourn my passing.”
“I hope you are not counting me among them.”
“I would not be so presumptuous.” Although the truth was: he did hope she would feel a bit of sorrow at his leaving this world.
“I do suppose bringing Gina sorrow would defeat my purpose in wanting to see her happy.” She slipped the pistol into a pocket in the skirt of her riding habit. “I don’t recall seeing you here in the mornings before.”
“To be sure, I’m certain you haven’t. I don’t usually make it a habit to ge
t up at such an ungodly hour, but I was curious regarding the report you delivered to your sister after our afternoon in the park.”
“My report?”
She sounded thoroughly confused when he knew she wasn’t. “Come now. I’m certain you outlined my good qualities and what you might have perceived as my . . . bad.”
“Not arrogant, are you, to think we would spend time discussing you.” It was stated, not asked.
“I’m simply rather convinced I was the topic of conversation once I delivered you home. I shall make it easy on you and share what I believe you told her. How’s that?”
She shifted in the saddle and he wished she wasn’t buttoned up so tightly in her forest green riding habit. A bit of white lace peeked out from her cuffs and above her collar. He wished they were at his personal estate where they’d have room to gallop madly over the flower-dotted meadows. He had no doubt she would give him a good race, that her hat would go flying off, her pins would come loose, her hair would tumble down. He longed to see it cascading along her back, over the horse’s flank. A vision of her without clothes suddenly flashed before him. Lady Godiva—he had no doubt Lady Landsdowne would rival her in beauty.
“I would indeed be very much interested in what you believe I relayed to my sister, but alas I have finished with my time in the park and must be home.”
“I’ll escort you.”
“Not necessary.”
“As a gentleman, I must insist. Besides, it is certain to put me in your good graces.”
“Do you not think you are there now?”
“I do not.” He knew he wasn’t. She looked at him like she wished she’d squeezed the trigger. “Please, Lady Landsdowne, in spite of what you might think, I do wish to ensure your sister’s happiness. Knowing what you are telling her about me could aid my cause and in the end, yours, as I believe you want the same thing for her. And I fear we got off on the wrong foot.”
Smart man, the Marquess of Rexton, to understand the influence Tillie had over her sister. “To be honest, I don’t recall your name on my tongue a single time after we returned to Landsdowne Court.”
His darkening gaze dipped to her mouth and she did wish she hadn’t mentioned her tongue. To make matters worse, she now envisioned it parrying with his in physical intimacy rather than with words. She suspected, for reasons which eluded her, that those marvelously shaped lips of his would urge hers into parting so he could deliver a kiss so all encompassing, so deep, that she would feel it in the soles of her feet. Even now, within her boots, her toes longed to curl. She had to be free of him, and quickly. “Escort me if you wish. But I shan’t disclose what I said to Gina regarding you. Musings between sisters are for sisters only.” She nudged her mare forward, disliking that she took satisfaction in his guiding his horse until it fell into step beside hers.
“I suspect you waxed on for some time regarding my handsome features,” he said.
She scoffed. Arrogant man. They always thought—
“I doubt either of you has ever known a man of such perfection.”
Her musings came to a sudden stop as though they’d hit a brick wall. His tone was more teasing than anything, perhaps a bit self-deprecating. Was it difficult to be as good-looking as he, to have women falling at his feet whenever he came near?
“We did have a time of it not swooning in your carriage yesterday afternoon.”
She wished she hadn’t said anything, had kept quiet, because he delivered a smile that very nearly caused her to fall out of the saddle. It wasn’t fair a man of such perfection should exist.
“You were charmed by my wit and exemplary manners.”
Enough of this. She wasn’t going to be enchanted. “I did question why you asked so much of me and not her.”
“No one enjoys an inquisition.”
“Yet you seemed determined to put me through my paces.”
“You seemed the one better able to withstand the attention. Has she never had anyone court her before?”
She didn’t want to be taken in by the true concern she heard in his voice. “You are her first. As I found the waters difficult to navigate at the tender age of eighteen, we decided it would serve her better to wait until she was nineteen.”
The faint light of morning allowed her to see the calculations running through his mind. She was rather taken aback that he was still striving to discern information regarding her—her present age of twenty-five, perhaps—but then she was the more interesting of the sisters, although she recognized that particular fact was not complimentary. It was only her scandal that made her noteworthy. He seemed to have finished his sums, satisfied with his answer. She wasn’t going to inquire regarding his conclusion, because she didn’t give a fig whether he’d gotten it correct or not.
“Did you dissuade her from attending the theater with me this evening?” he asked.
“I did not. I have surmised you are not the correct gentleman for her, but I also sense you will do no harm.”
That devilish grin again. She should hate him for the ease and smoothness with which it arrived. He was a man completely comfortable around women. No doubt because he’d known more than his fair share—intimately.
He opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head. “I was going to say you don’t know me well if you believe any woman is safe with me.” He seemed somewhat abashed. “It is second nature to flirt, but the truth is, you are correct. I would not intentionally cause her harm. She is a delightful girl. I enjoy her company.”
He might have said he was speaking the truth but somewhere within the words he’d woven a lie. She was rather certain of it, although she couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what it was but there had been a slight change in his inflection, something to indicate his guilt. Or perhaps it was simply that her time with Downie had made it so she could never completely trust a man to be wholly honest.
“What sort of chocolates does she prefer?” he asked.
“You should ask her.”
“That would ruin the surprise, would it not?”
What a disloyal sister she was because she didn’t want him sending chocolates, didn’t want him wooing Gina. “Ones with soft centers. Strawberry.”
“And yourself?”
“I don’t fancy chocolate.”
“What do you fancy?”
It was the quietness of the morning that made it seem he was asking something entirely inappropriate, like a preferred position for coupling, or how eagerly she liked a kiss delivered. Why was it that he caused her mind to travel to the gutter? “I don’t see that being knowledge you require to effectively win over my sister.”
“Ah, but you’ve already told me the way to your sister’s heart lies through you.”
“It lies in the way you treat her, in the care you give her.” They’d reached the small stables at the back of her residence.
He had the audacity to wave away the groom who had come out to assist her. He dismounted in a smooth movement of muscles and sinew that caused her clothing to shrink until she could scarcely breathe. Without a word, he placed his hands on her waist. They spanned the expanse of it. Large hands, capable hands. She’d felt the strength in them the day before as he’d assisted her into and out of the carriage. She did wish she wasn’t so taken with them, that she couldn’t imagine them stroking breasts and caressing thighs.
He tilted his head up, his gaze latching onto hers. Against her ribs, her heart throbbed, and she wondered if he could feel the vibrations through his gloved fingers. She curled her palms around his broad, sturdy shoulders. It was like grasping steel. She doubted this man possessed an ounce of fat. He was lean, but firm.
He lifted her down slowly, so slowly she could have counted his eyelashes, the folds in his neck cloth, the buttons of his waistcoat. If she’d been able to look away from the blue of his eyes.
“I do hope you will speak well of me to your sister and will not dissuade her from stepping out with me.”
Her feet were on firm ground now, he
r mind less so. He had yet to remove his hands from her waist. She would have stepped back but her horse was in the way. A little. Not completely. There was room. For some unfathomable reason, she didn’t want to make use of it. “Rest assured, you will at least have her in your company tonight.”
“I ask no more than that.”
His hands fell away. She could finally breathe. Strange how she thought it an unfair price to pay in order to be free of his touch.
“You should have a groom escort you on your morning ride. You never know when you might cross paths with a scoundrel.”
As she had this morning, no doubt. Reflexively, her hand went to her pocket where she kept her small gun. “I can take care of myself.”
“Are you truly skilled with a pistol?”
“Deadly so. Firearms is the family business, after all. My father taught me how to shoot when I was six.”
“Then I shall be grateful you didn’t demonstrate your talents this morning.”
“As you should be because I did consider it.”
He smiled as though he enjoyed sparring with her, liked the challenge of it. That was so very unnerving as it had been a good long while since a man had enjoyed her company—and she his.
He tipped his hat. “Good day, Lady Landsdowne.” He’d taken a mere three steps when he turned to face her. “Will you be acting as chaperone this evening?”
“No. Gina’s maid will serve in the role.”
“Is she young?”
“What does it matter?”
“In my experience, young servants are often intimidated by those of rank.” He slowly lifted a shoulder, lowered it. “I know many a gent who has managed to elude less watchful eyes for a bit of mischief.”
“Yourself included, I assume.”
He merely smiled, the scamp.
“I assure you Annie knows her duties and will see to them,” she said pointedly.
“I’m certain you’re correct.”
An Affair with a Notorious Heiress Page 5