Bankfoot paled, and his hand shook as he laid his cards face down on the table. “And that means what?” His voice wobbled. “I know all about my father’s heir thank you.”
“I’m sure you do. The Ace of Hearts.” He counted up the tricks. “My game, I think. Now about the other matter.”
Bankfoot stood up and his chair crashed to the floor. “You cheated. I had the Ace of Hearts up my…” Several others looked up at them, as his voice faded away. “Damn you, you think you’ve won? You might think you can ruin me, but remember what I know. That, my lord, will scupper your plans.”
Hello, my lord.”
He spun round as if he’d been shot. Mijo and Sybille stood there, side by side.
“Are you admiring my pearls?” Mijo stroked the long, perfectly matched string that caressed her neck and down between her breasts. “I believe you thought them paste?”
Bankfoot gobbled like a turkey. His mouth opened and shut but only a series of grunts emerged.
Mijo nodded. “Exactly so. I rarely wear them, but after your persecution of my daughter I thought to put you straight.”
“These.” Sybille held the string of pearls she wore up to show them to Bankfoot. “These are the paste pearls we all wear to get used to them.”
“I thought that, due to your insistence I didn’t know the difference between paste and real, I’d best show you. Luckily Mr. Sandeman restrung the paste ones in time for tonight. Sybille wore them as is right and correct.”
“Like most young ladies of the ton.” Esme, with Tina, had joined them. “She will practice with paste. Good evening Cornelius. How’s Alfie? And your father? I must pay a visit on them soon.”
Up until then, Thom had never ever seen pure, unadulterated rage and hatred on a face. He was sure if it had been possible Bankfoot would have ground his teeth, and stamped his feet. To say nothing of putting a knife between his, Thom’s, ribs.
“I’m sure they would enjoy that,” Bankfoot said stonily. “If you will all excuse me?”
“If you shake on the fact this is over and done with,” Thom said softly. “All of it. Oh and you best make sure none of us hear of any accident befalling your brother.”
Bankfoot’s eyes widened at Thom’s obvious inference. “I wouldn’t.”
“I’m glad to hear it. So?” Thom held out his hand. Bankfoot took it, and shook it, before he turned to Mijo. “My abject apologies, Madame. I was hopeful of winning your daughter’s hand and I misjudged. No hard feelings, Lady Sybille?”
“Lots,” Sybille said cheerfully. “But I’ll do my best to hide them.”
Bankfoot bowed. “So be it. Will you all now excuse me?”
“Of course.” Thom waved toward the door. “As long as you remember those three words.”
“As if I could forget.” Bankfoot bowed, spun on his heels and walked stiff-legged and with a ramrod-straight back, out of the room.
Thom picked up the cards and shuffled the pack. “Anyone want a hand of whist? Almost new pack, only used once. Fifty-three cards excluding the Jokers. Oh yes and with two Aces of Hearts.”
Epilogue
“I honestly thought Maman would say I needed to return home with her.” Sybille rested on one elbow and played with the hairs on Thom’s chest. She was well and thoroughly loved, sated and very happy. “She never fails to surprise me.”
“She knew we needed to be together.” Thom kissed her nose. “Sensible woman.”
Sybille wrinkled the orifice he paid so much attention to. “What is this fascination you have with my nose?”
Thom grinned. “It’s cute.” There was no answer to that.
“Oh well, all right then.” She looked up at him from under her eyelashes and pressed a kiss to each of his nipples, in turn. They puckered under her touch and she wriggled in happiness. His receptiveness to her touch was oh so satisfactory. “I think the hairs on your chest are cute.”
“Woman, a man is not cute. A man is manly.” He tickled her under her arm and she giggled.
“Manly cute.”
Thom shook his head. “If you say so. Now, about our wedding. I was thinking Tuesday next, St. George’s Hanover Square. I have the license, Mijo and your papa have the wedding breakfast in hand, and Esme assures me Clemente will have your dress ready. So, My Heart, will you marry me?”
Sybille looked at him. “Well maybe… hold on. Right, one moment. Put your trousers on.”
He blinked. “Why? We are in bed, I’m about to make love to you to celebrate our official betrothal.”
“Soon. First put your trousers on. Please, it’s important.”
Thom stared at her for a long moment, and nodded. “If it is so important.” He rolled off the edge of the bed, and tugged on a pair of pantaloons. “Now what?”
“Now propose to me.”
He raised one eyebrow. “I’ve already done so.”
“Not with clothes on. You were naked. I cannot tell our children that their papa proposed to me naked in bed, both after and before we made love.”
Thom rolled his eyes. “Will you marry me?”
She giggled. “Well…”
Thom’s eyes narrowed.
“Of course I will.”
“Good, so now you can tell our children their papa proposed in his pantaloons, standing by the bed, both after and before we made love.”
The End
www.ravenmcallan.com
Other Books by Raven McAllan:
www.evernightpublishing.com/raven-mcallan
If you enjoyed this book, you may also like:
Ember by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime
His Virgin Bride by Sam Crescent
Lipstick by Erzabet Bishop
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Sybille's Lord Page 15