Never Trust a Scoundrel

by Gayle Callen

Chapter 11

  After dinner, when all the guests were reunited in the drawing room, Daniel decided to finish with the family questions by approaching Chris himself.

  When a man talking to Chris saw Daniel coming, he looked between the two and excused himself.

  “You are good at scaring people away,” Chris said dryly.

  Daniel sipped his brandy. “It’s one of the more useful family traits.”

  “Hmm.” Chris eyed him. “Interesting show you put on with both of your dinner partners.”

  Daniel shrugged. “I had to live up to everyone’s expectations.”

  “Then why were you deliberately ignoring Miss Banbury? I understand from certain people that she’s decided to make you her project.”

  Daniel grinned. “So they think.”

  “That’s not the truth? Because if you were ignoring her, it certainly looked like there was tension between you. But then I’m your cousin, and I know you better than others do.”

  “Making me her project is part of the truth, but it’s only her attempt to counter me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Smiling, Daniel eyed him. “You don’t need to.”

  “She seems to have chosen you deliberately, Daniel. I’ve done some investigating.”

  “Aren’t you the thorough duke.”

  Chris ignored his interruption. “Her family has little money, although she does have a dowry. Perhaps she’s targeting you because—”

  “She knows I don’t want to marry her, and she doesn’t want to marry me.”

  “You’re deluding yourself. You have money and connections, and now that you’re attending more of these events, they’re going to see that you’re available. Miss Banbury is simply the most recent to express interest.”

  “Interest?” Daniel echoed with amusement. “I wouldn’t call it that.”

  “Stop being so mysterious.” Chris rolled his eyes.

  “Very well, here’s the answer to some of your questions. Miss Banbury is trying to change me, yes, but only to win back an antique violin that I won from her…family.”

  “Ah, that brother of hers who doesn’t know when to quit.”

  Daniel didn’t correct him.

  “It’s a sentimental heirloom?”

  “An expensive one.”

  Daniel had said too much, for Chris’s eyes lit with understanding.

  “She needs to sell it,” Chris said slowly.

  “So she’s trying to best me. I think the way to counter her is to get her away from her audience. I’m thinking about taking her out of London for several days.”

  “You’d be playing into her hands if she wanted to trap you,” Chris said.

  But Daniel knew he would also have a better chance to win their private challenge if he could get her alone all day—and all night. And he’d be keeping her away from the stranger outside her town house while Daniel had him found.

  He was looking at Grace, who was seated on a sofa with her friend Lady Standish. They were talking together as softly as Daniel and Chris, and suddenly Daniel had to know what they were discussing.

  He inclined his head to his cousin and began to move unobtrusively about the fringes of the drawing room. That was difficult to do when one had a duke in tow, but they managed it. When he’d positioned himself behind the sofa, he pointed to a sculpture there as if discussing it with Chris. Chris frowned at him but dutifully examined the piece of art.

  Grace, intent on her conversation, hadn’t seen them.

  Lady Standish said in a low voice, “You’ve been bringing attention to yourself, Grace. I just heard Lady Cheston say she plans to pay a call on you.”

  “I had hoped to avoid that,” Grace answered.

  Though Daniel wasn’t looking at her, he could hear the weariness in her voice.

  “I didn’t think anyone would want to visit someone of such a low social stature,” Grace continued. “You know how bare the town house is. What will she think?”

  Lady Standish spoke kindly. “Perhaps there are furnishings in other rooms that can be moved downstairs.”

  Before Daniel could hear any more, Chris suddenly took his elbow and pulled him to the next piece of art, a painting on the wall.

  “I told you she was after you for your money,” Chris said quietly.

  “None of this is her fault. Both her mother and brother have a problem with gambling. She’s only trying to save herself and her brother. It’s not about marrying me.”

  “How else does a young lady save her family?”

  Daniel wavered, but only for a moment. Grace could have what she wanted from him by restraining herself for another week. She wouldn’t want to jeopardize that. And she didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who would try to marry a man she didn’t love.

  “Look, I’ve already helped make her a more attractive prospect for any of these young bucks,” Daniel said. “She’s grateful enough.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve shown interest in her, which makes other men notice her. And I could hardly meet up with her at all of these events if she couldn’t prepare herself for them. So I hired two servants for the house.”

  “Her house?”

  Daniel winced and looked about to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “Technically, my house. I won it from her mother. Grace would have been out on the street.”

  “So you’re her savior,” Chris said grimly.

  “Hardly. I’m her challenger. She thinks she can defeat me. I’m letting her think it.”

  “I think you’re deluding yourself and that there’s more to the story.”

  Daniel said nothing. What could he say without explaining private details he had no intention of sharing with anyone but Grace?

  “She could have meant for you to overhear this latest plight of hers,” Chris added.

  “Then it worked. I’m going to hire a decorator to refurbish the town house.”

  Chris winced. “If anyone else finds out, you’ll have ruined her. And then you’ll be forced to marry her. Perhaps that’s her strategy.”

  “It’s not. She knows I would never let anyone force me to marry. But I can’t mount a true challenge if my opponent is weaker than I am. She has to meet me equally, especially in Society. It will make winning all the more satisfying.”

  “So what happens if you win the violin? She’ll have nothing, and you’ll feel sorry for her.”

  “I’m going to give her back the town house. I don’t need it.”

  With a groan, Chris ran a hand down his face.

  “Surely my masterpiece is not so terrible,” said a woman’s voice behind them.

  Daniel turned to find Lady Cheston looking at them both coldly.

  “I did paint this, you know,” she added.

  Chris recovered with his usual good nature. “Lady Cheston, you misunderstand us. My cousin and I were betting on the artist’s identity, and I was insisting we already had something by the artist in Madingley House.”

  Lady Cheston blushed. “Something of mine? You silly young man. I’m not talented enough for the honor of hanging in a duke’s home.”

  And once again, Chris had taken care of another tricky situation. Smiling to himself, Daniel let his gaze drift around the room.

  When Grace later made certain he knew that she’d accepted a ride home from Lady Standish, Daniel felt that everyone seemed to be conspiring against him this evening. He would not be kidnapping her tonight.

  After the dinner party, Daniel went looking for Edward Banbury. Someone at the club told him two of Banbury’s favorite gambling haunts, and Daniel found him at the second one, a gaming house for Society’s fashionables, decorated in rich reds and blacks, with crystal chandeliers gleaming above.

  At least Banbury hadn’t sunk to one of the city’s infamous gaming hells where he could get himself killed if he couldn’t cover his bets.

  Here, among the wealthy, he would only lose his honor. Daniel sensed that Banbury was holding o
n to it by his fingernails.

  He watched Banbury for several minutes as the man stood by the hazard table. Banbury couldn’t seem to stand still—he kept moving to get a better angle to watch someone else rolling the dice, but he didn’t bet himself.

  Daniel finally approached him. “May I speak with you, Banbury?”

  The man stiffened, but finally nodded and followed Daniel to the lavish supper table. They helped themselves to a selection of cheesecakes, and then stood in a corner of the room, eating and watching the play around them.

  “So what do you want?” Banbury finally asked.

  “I’m going to send a decorator to look at the town house, listen to his recommendations for furnishings, and then have those items delivered.”

  Banbury set his fork on his plate with controlled deliberateness. “Until you are rid of us, you need to keep away.”

  “It’s my town house, and I wish it to look just so.”

  Banbury opened his mouth, but Daniel continued talking before he could be interrupted.

  “Your sister is beginning to make calls in Society, and that means they will be returning her calls, some out of plain curiosity.”

  Banbury stiffened, his face slowly flushing red. Daniel felt reluctant compassion, knowing how Banbury and Grace had grown up. And she loved her brother, flaws and all.

  “And that will help her find a good man to marry,” Banbury said with belligerence.

  “I know.”

  Banbury ran a hand through his hair, not looking at Daniel. “What I did with the furnishings never mattered,” he said in a low, hoarse voice. “I was just a bachelor in that house. And then Grace came, and not only has she been hurt by our mother, but by me.”

  Daniel didn’t know what to say. Though he’d thought himself burdened with a crazy, scandalous family, at least they’d always been there, worrying too much about him and giving him a decent upbringing. After their father’s death, Grace and her brother had never had any kind of stability. And now their mother had taken even the safety of a home from them.

  He sensed that Banbury was on the edge of a precipice, and one wrong decision could send him plummeting. And then Grace would suffer even more.

  “I’m not like you, Throckmorten. You seem to control the game. But it controls me.”

  Daniel said nothing for a moment. “Did you think about what I said about the railways?”

  “I read a book,” Banbury said wearily.

  “That’s good. Research is important. I could tell you what I did when I first came of age, the best markets to concentrate in. I have some experience taking a small amount of money and investing it wisely.”

  “You didn’t have much money?” Banbury said, his curiosity obviously reluctant.

  Daniel shook his head. “An allowance. My father may have been famous, and my mother will never want because of that, but for now the money is hers. And there’s the duke, of course, but you know where the bulk of his estate will go.”

  “But you’re his heir.”

  “Only until he has his own child. Poor fellow has to marry.”

  Banbury nodded, still looking so intently at Daniel.

  “Are you offering to tutor me?” Banbury finally asked.

  Daniel met his gaze. “I suppose so.”

  “Then I’ll take you up on your offer.”

  His voice was neutral, controlled, without betraying the surrender that Daniel knew he must be feeling.

  “Good. I have an office at the Southern Railway. Meet me there tomorrow at two o’clock.”

  Daniel handed his plate to a servant and left without a backward glance. He didn’t think Banbury would gamble, at least not tonight.

  Grace paced long into the night. If she didn’t start getting a regular night’s sleep, it was going to show in her complexion. But sleep continued to elude her as she thought over and over again about her conduct toward Daniel at the dinner party.

  She must have been jealous.

  What other explanation could there be?

  He’d deliberately snubbed her, she knew, paying attention to another woman. And that was supposed to be all right with Grace; she wanted him to be a normal Society bachelor looking for the perfect wife.

  But she couldn’t understand why he’d ignored her—surely such a strategy wouldn’t result in her seduction?

  So she’d ignorantly fallen right into his plot; he’d wanted her to notice him, to be the one needing his attention, instead of his always pursuing her.

  And she’d pursued him.

  She’d touched him quite…scandalously, felt the long hard muscles of his thigh. Heavens, if anyone had seen what she’d been doing to him—

  With a groan, she started wandering the darkened house. Every so often, she looked out the front windows but saw no one loitering across the street.

  She opened the door to the master suite, but it was dark and empty. Exhausted, she went back to her room and fell onto the bed, not even bothering to crawl beneath the coverlet.

  And that was how Daniel found her, on her back in slumber, her long braid trailing across the pillow.

  He put an arm around her bedpost and just watched the rise and fall of her breasts, the way her nightgown fell in folds between her thighs.

  He stepped close and whispered her name, but she didn’t stir. He removed the tie from the end of her braid and spread her long brown hair out across the pillow. It was soft and luxurious, and he imagined it sliding across his skin.

  Would she awaken if he touched her?

  He ran his finger from her ankle to her knee, the only thing revealed from where she’d stirred in her nightgown. And although she twitched, she was too deeply asleep to respond.

  And without her participation, he couldn’t enjoy her. She wasn’t just a body he had to possess. She was a spirit, a presence, and he wanted to look in her eyes when he aroused her. He wanted to know that at last, she could resist him no longer, and that she’d taken him with her own free will. He didn’t need her trust; he only needed her passion.

  So he wrote a note at her desk, left it on the bed table, and went to finish his nightly vigil in the master suite.

  When Grace awoke late in the morning, she was flustered and confused—and then she realized that her hair was tangled all around her. She pushed it out of her face as she sat up, sighing over all of the brushing she’d have to do to untangle it. In her sleep, the tie must have come loose.

  And then she saw the note on the table, in a man’s strong handwriting: I resisted.

  She covered her face and, with a groan, fell back among the pillows. Daniel had invaded her room, and she had no memory of it. What had he done, besides release her hair from the braid that annoyed him?

  But…he’d resisted. And he hadn’t awoken her.

  Had he come for what her wandering hand had promised him last night? Did he think she was ready to surrender? He’d find out soon enough that her armor was dented but not broken.

  She tore up his note before anyone else could see it.

  After an early luncheon with Edward—during which he barely spoke to her, so engrossed was he in his book on railways—Grace went shopping with Beverly. She didn’t buy anything but ribbons for her hair, but it felt good to do nothing but talk about lighthearted concerns, fashion and hairstyles and who might become betrothed to whom.

  But when she returned to the town house, Ruby met her in the entrance hall.

  “We had visitors today, Miss Grace,” the maid said ominously.

  “They must have left their cards,” Grace answered. “It was a good thing I wasn’t here, or I would have felt obliged to see them. Have you started moving some of the paintings from my bedroom and the master suite?”

  “I’m not sure that’ll be needed anymore.”

  Grace lifted the bonnet from her head and frowned, even as the maid absently took it. “What do you mean? Lady Cheston says she’s going to call on me—”

  “A decorator visited today. It seems Mr. Banbury h
ired them to fix up the place.”

  “Mr. Banbury?” Grace said faintly, already knowing who was responsible and trying to figure out why.

  “They’re all excited, because they can do whatever they want—long as you approve.”

  “Of course.” Grace plopped into a chair.

  “Did Mr. Banbury win a lot of money?” Ruby asked suspiciously.

  Grace opened her mouth, about to answer with uncertainty, but all she said was, “I don’t think so.”

  “Supposedly Mr. Banbury hired the Woodleys, too,” Ruby continued in a softer voice. “But he didn’t do either of these things, did he?”

  Grace shook her head.

  “That man ye’re challengin’ thinks he can win ye,” Ruby warned.

  “He just wants the house ready because he thinks he’ll take over soon.”

  “Is your quest to make him a better man workin’?”

  Grace remained silent.

  “The decorator said he’d bring his men and start workin’ tomorrow. It’ll be messy for a while.”

  She felt angry and defensive. “So is he trying to remove me from the house early?”

  “No,” said a male voice.

  They both turned around to see Daniel standing in the front doorway.

  “Might I come in?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say that he owned the place, but she only exchanged a meaningful glance with Ruby.

  “Do come up to the drawing room, Mr. Throckmorten,” Grace said, mindful that the other servants might be listening. “I’ll ring for refreshments.”

  Ruby didn’t leave them alone, and Grace was grateful, even though Daniel glanced at the maid impatiently more than once as they waited for tea and iced cakes. Ruby sat in a window seat mending Edward’s shirts, while Grace sat on the sofa, and Daniel paced. He looked too big for the drawing room, filled with energy that couldn’t be contained. When the refreshments had been served, he pointedly took a seat beside her.

  Ruby gave a disapproving sniff.

  Grace stirred her tea and stared as the color lightened with the cream.

  “Can’t look at me?” he asked softly.

  She gave him an arch smile. “How silly. Of course I can.”

  After a long sigh, he glanced at Ruby, then lowered his voice. “I’m looking at you because I’m remembering where your hand was last night.”