Wicked Nights With a Proper Lady(52)

“To start…” Tristan rubbed at his chin pensively, as he stood from the bench they had occupied for too long. “You might as well set the books straight at the club.”

Leo threw up his hands in exasperation. His friend was intentionally trying his patience. “I don’t care about the bloody books. They won’t matter when I’m married.”

“Then you’ll need to pay a visit to the archbishop and obtain a special license.” Tristan slapped him on the shoulder, put his arm around him, and started walking them both back toward his picnic party. “Really, man, you need to screw your head on a little more straight. How are you going to get on for the next day if you can’t see where you’re going?”

“What in bloody hell am I supposed to do to occupy me until tomorrow?”

“Language, Leo. My children are about and they don’t need to hear anything from your foul mouth.” Standing on the edge of the blanket, Tristan said to his sister, “Bea, I have some business that needs to be taken care of right away.”

“Papa,” Ronnie protested. “You promised a day out with us.”

Tristan knelt and put his face level with Ronnie’s. “And just as soon as I’m finished doing something very important for Leo here, I will make this up to you. It won’t take more than an hour. And when I’m done, I’ll take you for ices.”

Ronnie crossed her arms over her chest and turned away with a curt, “Fine. But I want two ices.”

Tristan chuckled and roughed up Rowan’s hair as he stood. “Do you think you’ll have two also, champ?”

He nodded his head fervently. “Yes, Papa.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you back here in an hour.”

“Thank you,” Leo said as they walked back to their houses.

“Don’t thank me yet. I still doubt she’ll agree to marry a lout like you.”

It wouldn’t matter so long as he knew she was safe. “I’ll convince her that she has no choice.”

“How romantic of you,” Tristan said drolly.

“This has nothing to do with romance and everything to do with necessity.”

Tristan slapped him on the shoulder and laughed uproariously. “I see you’ve learned nothing of women in all your years.”

“I know what makes them happy.”

“In bed perhaps.”

“Are you questioning my manhood?”

“Would I dare?”

“Tristan,” Leo said in warning. He had no compunction about rearranging his friend’s face just as soon as Tristan’s rider was sent.

“You deserved it.” Tristan backhanded Leo across the stomach in horseplay. “If you like the chit as much as you say, you wouldn’t have told her the truth.”

“When you are in this position, I will remind you of this conversation.”

“You do that.” They broke apart on reaching the street. Their houses were a block away. “I will see you at the club this afternoon.”





Chapter 24

Oh, sweet revenge, how doth you fare today? Do you remember the much older ne’er-do-weller mixing with the undistinguished much younger type of society I mentioned some weeks back?

One Lady H___ has been caught in flagrante delicto. The gent filling her secret-spilling, reputation-damaging mouth has moved up a notch on my scale for the way in which he handled being discovered with his trousers around his ankles.

The Mayfair Chronicles, August 9, 1846

License obtained and in his breast pocket, Leo walked into his club the next morning. He still didn’t have word from Tristan, but would follow up with his friend just as soon as he finished his task here. Everyone’s head turned toward him and a hush fell over them as he removed his gloves.

Slapping the leather against his hand, he walked to the mahogany pedestal that held the betting book open for all to see the latest on dit bid.

Sure enough, there were more than a handful of speculating names that he recognized. Their bets were on whether he’d seek out another spinster, who she would be, if he would take a virgin wallflower in her fourth and fifth seasons. The list went on in not very favorable directions.

Naturally, his friends had stayed out of the bidding. A shame they hadn’t tried their luck in a more positive direction.

Though it was considered bad form to engage in a wager when you were the one mentioned, Leo called over the steward with a wave of his hand. “Hand me a pen, Brett.”

“My lord,” the man said in a word of warning.

“Hand me a damn pen.” His voice was quiet but as sharp as the tip of a rapier.

No further protest was made as the man went to retrieve the requested writing instrument. Leo’s eyes focused on each and every name written in the ledger. Someone in the club started to protest but was quickly shushed. They would all clamor to know what he would write and whom he would side with so the debts could be settled the moment he left.

When the pen was set up in the inkstand on the edge of the pedestal, Leo nodded his thanks and turned the page to read the rest of the names. There were a number of bets against him not only from club members but other men and a few women who obviously didn’t want to be excluded from the chance to win the hefty sum entered on each line. That they cared to spend this much thought on his private affairs was simply pathetic. On reading the last name, he dabbed the nib on the blotter and wrote his name on the next available line. Estimating his wager based on the tally, he entered his total.

“Wax, Brett,” was his next demand.

Taking up a small handful of sand, he tossed it over the wet ink and waited a minute before blowing it off. And though there were some fifty-odd witnesses to his signing of the wager book, he took the heated wax from Brett, poured a small amount on the ledger, removed his signet ring from his pinky finger, and pressed the griffin fashioned around an old-fashioned letter B into the wax. He left the club without talking to anyone on his way out. He knew they’d rush over to the betting book the moment he was out of sight.

And really, none of them mattered.

It was time to find Genny.

He knocked on Tristan’s townhouse door. Ronnie pulled the heavy door inward. Rowan was next to the footman who stood to the side expressionless. It didn’t surprise Leo that Tristan let his children rule the house and servants much like they ruled his life.

“Papa said you’d come today.” Ronnie’s smile was a welcome sight even in his current gloomy mood.

Leo went down on his haunches and tapped Ronnie on the nose affectionately. “Did he, then?” He looked to Rowan who nodded emphatically. “Where do you suppose I’ll find your father this morning?”

“He’s still in bed,” Rowan said.

Leo pulled out his watch from his vest and flicked it open. “Since when does your father sleep past half ten in the morning?”

Ronnie crossed her arms over her chest with a pout. “I knocked on his door and he told me he’d see me later.”

“Do you think I might come in? I have business with your father.”

“You should eat lunch with us. He might come down for that.” Ronnie suggested, taking his hand to invite him in.

“I can’t refuse your kind offer, my lady.”

He stood, patted her head, and put out his hand for Rowan to take.

“Alberts, would you mind notifying his lordship that I am here? He is expecting me.”

Alberts, a young footman of average looks, bowed to him. “Yes, my lord.”

He hurried to do as Leo bid while the children led him farther into the house. The breakfast room was where they took their casual meals. There was an array of dishes set out in buffet style for the children. A kitchen maid, wearing a French uniform, stood by to help the children with their dishes. He nodded to her. What was going on in the Castleigh house this morning? Everything seemed … off.

“Where is your aunt?”

Rowan bounced in his chair, chewing a strawberry openmouthed. “Papa sent her out on errands.”

Why would Tristan have his sister, albeit half sister, run errands for him? Leo focused on the maid again. “Has his lordship been down from his room today?”

“No, my lord.”

“Has food been sent up?” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.

Her eyes went wide, so he was on the right train of thought. “Yes, my lord.”

He leaned in close and whispered, “One or two dishes?”

“Two,” she mouthed so the children wouldn’t hear their conversation.

“An unusual occurrence,” he mused aloud.

The maid put her head down. He hadn’t meant for her to feel bad for betraying her employer’s trust but he had all the right questions. Though he had no answer as to why Tristan would have a woman here when he had a townhouse three streets over for his liaisons.

“What’s unusual?” Ronnie asked.

“Oh, these eggs here have double yolks,” Leo quickly said.

“Cook has a special hen that lays those. She says it’s double the luck and she lays more eggs than the others.”

“Very odd.” Leo turned his attention back to the children at the table to make sure they were settled in to their lunch and grabbed a sausage and ate it off a fork just as the butler walked in.

The man bowed again. “If you’ll follow me, my lord, I’ll take you to his study.”