Marquess of Menace

by Tammy Andresen

  Menace shrugged. “I agree except the shooter swore it was an accident and where there was no death…”

  She frowned. “No wrongdoing.”

  “Nope,” he replied, leaning his backside against the wall and kicking out his feet. “I know he sold your house. But that’s it and that was completely legal. Are we done now?”

  She moved closer still, making certain to add a bit of sway to her hips. He noticed. “Nearly.” She gave him her most angelic smile. The one she used when she needed something. “The mystery man who keeps appearing. Do we know who he is yet?”

  A man had raced in and rescued her and her sisters when their uncle had attacked their carriage, but no one knew who he was. They did know that their father had a secret partner and they’d wondered if their mystery man was one and the same but so far, they’d gotten no proof.

  “Why are you asking me all of this?” He gave her a level stare.

  “Because,” she started, then paused. She was close now, close enough to touch him. Her fingers flexed. She shouldn’t want to reach out. She should only be calculating whether or not she should touch him to get the information she needed. “Bash is under the misguided impression that he needs to protect me.”

  Menace raised his brows. “How foolish.”

  “Exactly,” she replied. “I don’t need protection. I—”

  “You practically threw your sister at him in order to gain his protection, if I recall.”

  He had her there. But Eliza had noticed the attraction between the two when she’d suggested her sister get involved with the duke. “Isabella did need help. Emily and Abigail need him too.”

  “But not you…” he murmured.

  His voice had dropped so low the sound made her shiver. He’s a rake, she reminded herself. “Not me.”

  “But you need my help now?”

  Her chin notched up. “Not help. Just information.”

  He quirked a one-sided smile that did strange things to her insides as he let out a chuckle. “An important distinction to be certain.”

  “What is the harm in giving me a few facts?”

  “I don’t know you well enough to know if there is harm in it or not. You seem like you could be dangerous.”

  She raised one shoulder. Female pride coursed through her. “I take that as a compliment.”

  He pushed off the wall, which brought him closer to her body. So close that she could feel his heat. Her dress came off her shoulders exposing a fair bit of skin including her rather ample cleavage. Which was currently covered in goosepimples.

  He brought his hand to her shoulder, large and warm, his fingers fanning out so that his pinky rested just about the swelling flesh of her right breast. She shivered at the touch despite herself.

  He dropped his chin lower, angling his sharp green eyes to meet hers. “You shouldn’t.”

  Eliza did what she knew she shouldn’t. She’d manipulated a fair number of men, but none were as dangerous as this one. He was confident, in control, and he made her forget her principles every time he drew near. Still, she moved closer, allowing her breasts to just graze his chest. “There must be some way I could convince you.”

  Chapter Two

  Minx.

  Dylan stared down at Eliza. Her eyes tilted at the corners, giving them an almond shape that could make a man beg. He’d like to beg…

  Her lips were softly parted, and the brush of her skin made him hard and hot.

  She knew exactly what she was doing.

  “What are you offering?” If she wanted to play this game, he’d see her bluff and raise her. He owned a gaming hell after all.

  The softest sweetest smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Let me think. I want regular updates about what’s happening in my own life. And you want…” She paused, raising one of her hands and brushing a finger on the plump flesh of her bottom lip.

  His trousers grew achingly tight. This woman was going to be his undoing.

  Dylan had dallied with a few of society’s elite. He didn’t discriminate when it came to women. The only exception was marriageable maidens.

  But Eliza had been without a chaperone for months. Had she been with a man? Her demeanor certainly suggested she had. She knew things. Things a debutante should not.

  And he’d take her up on her offer in a second. Hell, he’d pull her into the shadows and lift her skirts right here if he thought he could get away with it but…Bash would kill him.

  Then again, might be the way to go. The title and all its debt could go to the next cousin while he died doing what he loved best. “I want—” he started, wrapping a hand about her waist and pulling her body tight against his.

  “My lord,” she softly purred. “Someone might see.” She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the room.

  He relaxed his hold, easing back. She was right.

  She placed her hands lightly on his chest. “I’m offering information in return.”

  He gave her a confused stare, as his brows drew together. That was not at all what he’d expected. “Information? What knowledge could you possibly give me?” Her tongue darted out, licking along her top lip. He followed the movement, his brain barely working.

  “Let me think. You’re here, even though you’ve never come to one of these parties before. What’s more, you were flirting with those ninny heads, surrounded by debutantes. That can only mean one thing. You’re looking to marry.”

  He startled and took a step back, bumping his legs into the rock wall behind him. “How did you…” But he couldn’t finish. She’d taken him completely off guard.

  She rolled her eyes, stepping back. “Please. I can read you like a book.”

  Wait? Had she just been pressing against him in invitation or had she been manipulating him? “Did you just brush against me because you were offering me…” He trailed off again. He wasn’t usually at a loss for words, but tonight, he just couldn’t seem to make them come out.

  “I am offering to help you if you help me,” Eliza quipped. “I have spent the last month learning every lord and lady and who has influence and who has money.”

  His jaw dropped down and he snapped it closed again. “So why touch me?” If he were being honest, his pride had been wounded. He’d thought for a moment she wanted him as much as he desired her.

  One of her brows quirked. “You’re awfully fixated on that.”

  Because it had been delightful. His mind had become blank as… Damn. “You did it on purpose.”

  “You were being very resistant.”

  He shook his head. “You’re a she-devil. A curse to men,” he hissed.

  She shrugged. “I just happen to understand the male mind. Not that it’s difficult. Which is why I know what you’re doing here. And how you need help.”

  He scrubbed the back of his neck. “How is that?”

  “Let me think. You’re looking for a wife. Not because you wish to marry. I know your type.” She tapped her chin. “Is it money or connections? I’m guessing money.”

  Minx. A wave of frustration washed over him. He wished she were wrong. It disconcerted him how right she was. “So you’re suggesting that I keep you in the loop and in return, you help me with my search.”

  “Exactly.”

  He shook his head. Every part of him warned him against her proposal. “Besides the fact that Bash would actually end my life, and the information could be dangerous for you. You are the last woman who should be helping me to find a bride.”

  “Why?” Her chin notched up again and he had the urge to run a finger along her jaw. Trace its outline and test the texture of her skin. Was it as silky as he imagined?

  “Because you are far too smart and far too beautiful.”

  To his complete amazement, she blushed. It might have been the most honest and vulnerable thing she’d done since he’d met her, and it stole his breath how stunning she looked with her cheeks stained, a pale pink that only enhanced her coloring. “Thank you.” She swallowed, her eyes casti
ng toward the ground. She crossed a hand over her front, grabbing the other arm. She’d gone from confident to vulnerable in a moment and he wondered if this was a trick again. But the tremble in her voice told him she meant her next words. “I’ve worked very hard to keep my sisters safe. I can’t just turn the feeling off that I need to protect them. I need to know what’s happening. Bash has been wonderful, and he wants to help but…”

  He understood. “There is no word on the mystery man.”

  “Will you tell me if you learn anything?”

  Maybe. Probably not. “I’ll consider it. Now...” He drew up. “I’ve given you two important bits of information. Point me in the direction of a rich and eligible young woman.”

  She gave a single nod. “See the punch bowl? There is a lady in a particularly interesting shade of tangerine orange.”

  He looked over to the far side of the ballroom. Sure enough there was a girl in layers of orange lace and piles of matching hair ribbons. “I see her.”

  “She’s the Earl of Westerly’s daughter. Richest man in England. Lady Carmella Dumbly.”

  He swallowed. She was exactly the sort he was looking for and she was absolutely awful. Even from here, he hated her dress, her hair, the exaggerated way she drew attention to herself.

  He looked down at the classic beauty in front of him. Eliza was the sort of stunning good looks mixed with intelligence and grit that could melt a man like him. And yet…she wasn’t for him. He’d have to repeat that a hundred more times before this ball was over.

  Eliza wasn’t for him.

  “Our bargain is done,” he said and then he walked away. Toward Lady Carmella Dumbly.

  Eliza watched Dylan cross the room with her head held high. But inside, she shrank a bit. She’d just taken some big risks to learn very little.

  Her uncle was forcing her hand. Drat the man.

  She’d practically offered herself to a rake. In her defense, she had no intention of actually allowing him liberties. But that didn’t mean it had been a good idea. Women had been ruined for less.

  She’d just been looking for a way to slip past his defenses and get what she’d needed from him.

  Information.

  She sighed as she watched him slide next to Carmella. Instantly he drew the girl’s attention away from the other men surrounding her. Eliza allowed herself another long sigh as she slipped back into the ballroom. Of course he had. The man was distractingly dashing.

  There had been a moment where she’d brushed up against him that she’d nearly forgotten herself. She’d wanted to slide her arms up around his neck and touched her lips to his.

  She shook her head. Despite her bluff that she had all sorts of experience, in truth she had very little. And a rake was no man from whom to learn such things.

  She didn’t want to marry so she was less worried about her own reputation, but her sisters needed to wed, and she’d not allow a foolish crush on a rake to ruin their futures.

  Once they were taken care of…she shrugged. Perhaps she’d never go near a man again. Or perhaps she’d take to the stage and become an actress, or mayhap she’d travel to America and visit the wild west.

  She laughed despite herself.

  Such adventures sounded exciting and a welcome change from worrying and work. Not that Eliza regretted caring for her sisters. She loved them more than anything. But once they were safely matched and her mother and father’s assets were back in her hands, the world was her oyster.

  Her gaze darted to Menace again. Somehow, Carmella was already hanging off his arm as though he were the most fascinating man in all of England.

  Perhaps he was.

  Eliza would never admit this to anyone, but she might find him fascinating as well. She’d lied when she’d said he was simple. He was such a mystery that he sometimes stole her breath. How could one man create such a riot inside her body?

  The warm air of the room made her shiver after the cold of the outside as she slipped next to Abigail.

  “There you are,” her sister whispered. “Don’t worry. Aunt Mildred didn’t notice you were gone. She’s too busy with Emily. Yet another man is completely smitten with our youngest sister.”

  Eliza smiled. As kind as she was lovely, it was easy for everyone to like Emily. “Don’t be jealous. Is that baron still seeking you out regularly?”

  Abigail rolled her eyes. “You know he is. He came to calling hours yesterday. Aunt Mildred says I should marry him but I’m just not…”

  Eliza stopped listening. Because just behind Menace, she’d spotted another man. Tall and dark-haired, he stared back at her with a knowing smirk on his face. He was their mystery man from their carriage rescue. Here. Tonight.

  His gaze held hers and he gave a single sideways nod of his head, gesturing toward the door to the hallway. Then he pushed off the wall and began to slowly make his way in the direction he’d indicated.

  Her breath caught. Should she go? Should she tell Abigail?

  But just then Baron Rumples arrived, requesting a dance even as Aunt Mildred, the major, and Emily continued to converse.

  She let Abigail go, giving a smile of encouragement. This was what her sisters were supposed to do. Meet men they might marry. And she would continue to investigate their father’s disappearance and their uncle’s involvement.

  Taking a deep breath, she started for the door.

  The crowd was thick, and she lost sight of him several times but finally found him leaning against the door jamb leading out to the hallway.

  Meeting with Menace had been one thing. Though he was a rake, she also knew he was her brother-in-law’s dear friend. His relationship with Bash would keep him in check. Not only that but she inherently trusted him for some reason.

  But this man…

  There were no rules here.

  She swallowed down a lump, her steps faltering. Should she continue to follow?

  It was foolish.

  But then again, she needed to make some progress toward a future for all of them.

  Drawing in a fortifying gulp of air, she started for the door again.

  Chapter Three

  Carmella’s hand had slid from Dylan’s elbow to his back and if he weren’t mistaken was slowly making its way to his backside.

  Had he avoided these parties? They were far more interesting than he’d ever imagined.

  Not that he wished for Carmella’s hand on his rump. In fact, he decidedly did not want her touching him anywhere.

  Why didn’t he just let the indebted title slide to the next heir? He could make enough to stave off the creditors and allow the rest of it to go to the devil.

  And be the failure everyone assumed he would always be.

  He frowned. What did he care?

  They were right. He was a waste.

  Carmella laughed, loudly, at her own joke and he joined in, not having heard a word. What did it matter?

  He could propose tomorrow, and she’d likely say yes. It made him tired. This was going to be his life?

  He sighed as Eliza passed by, her simple silk gown of cream shimmering in the candlelight. She was alone again and headed for the doorway, looking rather singular in her purpose. He pulled back his chin as he watched her. What was she up to?

  He followed her gaze and then nearly cursed out loud.

  Standing in the doorway, rakishly leaning against the jamb, was a man who was...well bloody hell if he wasn’t just as tall, dark, and handsome as Dylan. And that man, whoever he was, was looking right at Eliza. Watching her progress across the room.

  Dylan straightened, his back expanding as Eliza made her way through the crowd.

  For a moment he wondered if he was mistaken.

  She had some sort of pull over him. Perhaps he was imagining the entire thing. Surely, she wasn’t attempting a second clandestine meeting within a half hour?

  But as she drew closer to the fellow, he pushed off the wall.

  And just like with Dylan, she stopped four feet away from t
he man.

  Was he talking? It looked like he was conversing with her.

  “My lord?” Carmella cut in. Her hand had come back up to the small of his back, but she was pulling on his coat, flapping it away from his skin, causing puffs of air to travel up his back. “Are you listening?”

  He cleared his throat and looked down at the woman to whom he was supposed to pay attention. The one who had the potential to right his title and make him the hero of his family rather than the wastrel. “Of course, I am, my lady,” he gave her a winning smile. “How could I not? Your story about…” He paused. What had she been talking about?

  “My cat, Tulip,” she huffed.

  “Yes, of course. Fascinating.” And then he placed a hand over hers, the one tucked in the crook of his arm.

  She blushed. But it was nothing like Eliza’s. Poor Carmella. Her skin turned blotchy with her spotted cheeks and neck.

  Unable to help himself, he glanced up to see Eliza again, as he remembered the perfect pale hue of her cheeks.

  But as he looked toward the door, he didn’t see her.

  He quickly scanned the room. She wasn’t with her family. Wasn’t crossing the ballroom. Where the bloody blue blazes had she gone?

  “Anyway,” Carmella cut into his thoughts again. “Tulip is the most perfectly behaved cat. Anyone who meets her declares her so. You should visit tomorrow for calling hours and see her. She’s as beautiful as she is good.”

  “I see,” he answered, barely listening. A jealous knot tied up his stomach. If that ass, whoever he was, touched Eliza the way Dylan had just touched her he’d...

  “Will you?” Carmella leaned closer, her bosom brushing his arm. He resisted the urge to pull away. As if the difference in the two women needed such a definite comparison. And the truth was, Carmella didn’t compare.

  The problem for poor Carmella was a woman had just scrambled his mind with the same trick. “I’d be delighted,” he answered, attempting to smile. “But if you’ll excuse me, Lady Carmella, I’ve spotted an old friend. Until tomorrow?”

  She beamed with triumph as he slipped his arm from her hand. He tried not to run as he made his way to the door. What if they’d slipped off to a room? What if that man was touching Eliza?