He’d wager she tasted of whisky and honey. He took a step toward her, his trousers straining against the bulge of his manhood. Honor stopped him from continuing down that particular path, and he glanced out at the gaming floor through the large window. Hannah had to remain his focus. He pinned Lady Narissa beneath his gaze once more. “This is a female gaming hell.”
“Well done, Your Grace. Welcome to Fortuna’s Parlor.” She held a tumbler out, offering it to him. “Now, do have a seat.”
He scowled, rejecting the drink. It would be a cold day in hell before he sipped liquor with the vixen. “I would prefer to collect my sister and take our leave.”
Her eyes rounded as she sat the tumbler down. “Then what?”
He smirked. “I believe you are intelligent enough—”
She waved a hand through the space separating them. “Let us cease with this game, it has grown tiresome.” Nodding toward a chair, she said, “Do sit and let us speak frankly.” Then she situated herself in the chair opposite the gold brocade armchair she’d offered him.
He hesitated for a moment before taking the seat she’d indicated. Perhaps there was something to gain here. “I should tell all of society what you have been doing. It would serve you right to be brought to ruination.” He leaned in, heart pounding. “However, I may be persuaded to hold my tongue.”
He studied her as a myriad of emotions flashed through her striking whisky eyes. Anger, frustration, determination. When they softened, he relaxed a measure, certain he had her where he wanted her.
She notched her chin. “Very well. Name your price.”
“It is not coin I seek, and you well know it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What then?”
The lady may be many untoward things; however, he did not believe her to be addle-brained. He had asked her twice for what he wanted. She well knew the price for his silence. What he could not be certain of was her willingness to accept his terms. “Again, I am quite certain you can figure it out.”
Lady Narissa placed her elbows on her desk and leaned forward. “You want me to ride for you at Epsom in exchange for your silence.”
“Bravo, my lady.” Seth smiled with mock sincerity. He was enjoying her discomfort. She well deserved it after the way she had dismissed him at Newmarket then drove up the price on Banshee. Not to mention, allowing Hannah inside of this godforsaken den of impropriety.
“I will not,” Lady Narissa answered, coolly.
“Then we have nothing left to say.” He stood and turned toward the door.
“Wait.”
Seth pivoted to face her, one brow arched.
“Is there nothing else I can do?”
If he did not want to win Epsom so badly, he would make an indecent proposal. Surely the fiery hellion would be delightful under the sheets. His gaze lingered on her plump lips for a moment before trailing his gaze down to her rounded breasts. No, he needed her to ride his horse—not him, as delightful as he imagined it would be.
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I will allow you twenty-four hours to ponder your fate. In the meantime, I intend to collect my sister. You will assure me that Hannah’s membership is henceforth revoked?”
“Doing such may lead to more trouble. Think about it, Your Grace, if Hannah is barred from my establishment, she’s bound to seek entertainment at other venues.” Lady Narissa came to stand before him, she leaned in close. “Less secretive ones.”
Ignoring the intoxicating scent of her perfume, he replied, “That is not your concern.”
She notched her chin. “The ton is already gossiping about her. How do you think I learned of her inclinations toward gaming? At least here you know she is safe. The same cannot be said of other establishments that may allow a woman entrance.”
He hated to cede to this annoying woman, but something told him she cared for Hannah, and he could not argue the validity of her words. In fact, she could well have challenged him by using Hannah against him. Refused his terms out of hand and countered with revealing Hannah’s involvement here. He’s admiration for the vixen grew. “Very well, she may remain a member, but you are charged with protecting her reputation…both within these walls and outside of them.”
“As I do all of my members,” Lady Narissa said, with a confident smile.
“Then it is settled. I will call upon you tomorrow evening to get your final answer.” He leaned in close. “I caution you to think real hard before rejecting my offer as I do not bluff.”
When he pulled back, he found himself arrested by the passion flaring in her eyes and the slight flush of her cheeks. The desire to kiss her, to hold her in his arms slammed into him afresh.
“Good day, Your Grace.” Lady Narissa turned her back to him, retrieved her tumbler, then took a long drink.
Blood warming with indignation at yet another dismissal, Seth turned on his heels and marched from the office. She could pretend indifference all she wanted. The turmoil in her gaze gave away her true feelings. He had her trapped, and they both knew it. More than that, she felt the attraction between them.
NARISSA SANK into the leather chair behind her desk with a loud sigh. The duke had her by the throat. Fortuna’s was her baby; she’d worked hard to build the club into what it was today. Countless hours of hard work and sweat, sleepless nights, and scarifies went into making Fortuna’s profitable and turning it into the sought after establishment it had become.
She had a duty to protect her club and its members. She owed it not only to herself, but to Josephine who’d believed in her dream, and all of the ladies who trusted her to keep their secrets. On the other side of her conundrum, winning at Epsom with Merlin was her dream too—the last one she shared with Papa. How could she let him down? Stomp on the last dream they shared together? It would be a terrible disservice to Papa’s memory and her own ambition.
She retrieved the scotch decanter and a crystal tumbler, then returned to her desk intending to drink copious amounts of scotch. Truly, she had only two choices and neither appealed to her. Topping off her tumbler, she took a gulp. What would Papa have her do?
With tightness in her chest, she dropped her head into her hands. Lose Fortuna’s, or give up on her and Papa’s derby dream—all of their hard work. Either way, she would lose something dear to her. No matter what she chose to do, she would be selling a part of herself and have to live with the regrets her choice caused.
The door swung open and Narissa jumped, the scotch in her tumbler splashing over the side. “Bloody hell,” she said, setting the drink aside as she looked to see who had entered her office.
Josephine and Brooke strolled in, matching looks of concern upon their faces. Brooke closed the door in their wake, while Josephine strolled across the office to sit near the desk.
“That bad, is it?” Josephine reached for the decanter, then poured herself a drink.
“The scoundrel demanded I ride for him. If not, he will tell all of England about Fortuna’s.” Narissa drained her tumbler then slid it across her desk for Josephine to refill.
“Did you agree?” Brooke asked with rounded eyes.
“No.” Narissa drained her scotch. “He gave me until tomorrow night to change my mind.”
“How dare the scoundrel blackmail you!” Josephine shook her head.
Brooke stared out at the gaming floor, her shoulders slumping. “What are you going to do?”
If only Narissa could answer that question. She needed to think, for there had to be a way out of this. ‘There is no problem too big to solve when one engages their wit’, Papa’s words drifted through her mind. “Is Hannah still here?”
“I saw her playing faro on my way in,” Josephine said.
Narissa straightened in her chair. “Go get her.”
She grinned as Josephine left the office. Perhaps Hannah would be the key to solving her problem with the duke. Leastwise, she would provide much needed insight. Narissa should have used the lady for leverage against her brother. She’d had t
he inclination to do that very thing, but in the end could not bring herself to threaten Hannah in any way. The two of them had become friends of sort, besides, doing so would be a direct violation of the clubs rules—her own rules.
“What do you hope to gain from Hannah?” Brooke asked, turning from the window for the first time since entering the office.
“I’m not certain, but I suspect that she may help me come up with a way to both protect Fortuna’s and ride Merlin at Epsom.” Narissa’s stomach fluttered with anticipation. Heaven help her if she were wrong.
Josephine returned with Hannah in tow and closed the door behind them. Hannah frowned as she approached Narissa’s desk. “I am eternally sorry for leading my brother here. I swear I had no idea that he followed me.”
“I do not hold you accountable. Though, I find myself in need of your help. Do sit.” Narissa angled her head at a leather chair near the desk. Sympathy welled up in her as she studied Hannah. Regret and embarrassment radiated from her gaze. Narissa had no doubt that the lady was truly regretful.
“Of course, I will do whatever you require.” Hannah sat, then accepted a tumbler of scotch from Josephine.
“The way I see it, there are two possibilities here. One, I ride for the duke at Epsom as he has demanded. Two, I call his bluff, and hope he does not make good on his threat of outing me and Fortuna’s.” Narissa studied Hannah, taking her measure. “What are the odds that your brother is bluffing?”
Hannah swallowed hard, a bloom of pink shading her cheeks. “I’m afraid my brother does not bluff. I have never known him to say he will do something and then fail to carry through.” She averted her gaze. “I am truly sorry.”
Narissa rubbed her chin. “I see no way around it then. I simply have to find a way to beat him at his own game. There has to be a way for me to ride his mount and Merlin to still win the derby.” She tapped her nails on the desks hard surface as she tried to find a solution. Damn the whiny had gone straight to her head. She could hardly think at all.
“I’ll ride Merlin.” Brooke jumped up, her eyes sparkling. “You well know my skill, and Merlin is a born racer. I need only become familiar with him.”
“If it looks as though Brooke will lose, you can hold the duke’s horse, ensuring Merlin’s victory,” Josephine added.
“I am no black-leg. I want a legitimate race. Merlin must win because he is the better bit of blood. And because Papa and I worked hard training him.” Narissa wanted little more than to beat the duke and see Merlin as the victor, but she’d not taint herself or her papa’s memory by cheating.
Considering Papa, Narissa let out a small laugh. He would no doubt enjoy Josephine’s idea, encourage it even, but she could not.
“My brother detests losing. When he does, it drives him to do whatever possible to win the next time around. Had you not beat him at Newmarket, he’d not be half as determined as he is to win at Epsom.” Hannah sipped from her tumbler. “I adore my brother, truly, but watching him get his comeuppance will prove delightful.”
Narissa snickered. “I could not agree more.”
“And so long as we keep the upper hand, the odds will remain in our favor,” Josephine said.
Brooke paced the length of the office. “It is imperative he not learn of our plan before we enter Merlin in the race. If he were to discover what we are about…”
“Absolutely.” Narissa looked at Hannah. “Promise you will not speak of any of this.”
“I would not dare.” Hannah’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she drank the last bit of her scotch.
CHAPTER 6
NARISSA DISMOUNTED in front of the Duke of Blackmore’s residence. She saw no reason to wait for the odious man to come to her, not now that her mind was made up. Therefore, she’d procured his address from Hannah and now stood before his residence. What she would give for another solution, a way to avoid all of this. Alas, she had no other recourse; she had to accept his terms.
With her head held high, shoulders back, and spine straight, Narissa marched up the wide marble steps that led to his front door. She grinned as she lifted the knocker into her gloved hand. There was something for her to gain despite not being able to ride Merlin at Epsom.
Training the duke’s mounts would give her firsthand knowledge as to its condition. Far better than learning about the horse from a racing program. Narissa could, and would, use what she learned to beat him at his own game.
She thumped the brass knocker against the massive oak door, then took a step back to wait.
The door opened, revealing a grey-haired servant in perfectly pressed livery. “Good morning,” he greeted with a bow.
She smiled and handed him her calling card. “I am here to see the duke.”
“Do come in.” He stepped aside allowing her entry. “Allow me to take your cloak, my lady. Then I will show you to the receiving room.”
“Thank you.” Narissa handed the garment to him, then glanced around the impressive foyer. A double staircase laid straight ahead, its mahogany banisters curving upward to the landing. The polished marble floor shone like a mirror beneath her slippers. Intricately carved wood trimmed the room’s cream and gold papered walls. And a large crystal chandler hung from the ceiling.
She wondered if the off-putting duke ever entertained within these walls, and for a fleeting moment, imagined herself coming for a grand ball. A crush of elegant lords and ladies would fill the entry, their finery illuminated by the grand chandler as their voices filled the space. She’d wager it to be a marvelous scene.
“This way, if you please,” the servant said, interrupting her thoughts.
Narissa nodded, then followed him across the grand foyer to an open door just beyond. She entered the receiving room, which was turned out with just as much grandeur as the foyer. Taking a deep breath, she positioned herself on a blue settee trim with silver piping to await the duke’s audience.
“My Lady, Would you care for some tea and biscuits while you wait?”
She glanced at the butler. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you.”
“If you have need of anything, the bell pull is right over there.” The servant angled his head toward the far corner of the room before backing out and leaving her alone with her musings.
Narissa fidgeted with her skirt, wishing she’d worn trousers instead before settling more comfortably against the settee. She let her gaze roam about the room, from the plush carpeting to the marble hearth and stylish furnishings. Either the duke had exemplary taste, or his sister had taken charge. Either way, the residence was a perfect blend of good taste and comfort. She imagined it would be quite comfortable to live in such a residence. Not that her own residence was shabby, but this scale of grandeur would be hard to match.
Rising, she strolled over to a floor-to-ceiling window and peered out, her hand resting on the molding. Bright sun illuminated the garden beyond where cobbled trails wound their way through flowers and bushes of every variety. Her attention caught on a large stable that stood off to the back side of the vast yard. Next to the stable was what could only be a race track, two in fact. A large oval turf made of dirt and a straight run of grass both bordered by white fencing.
Excitement thrummed in her veins. She, too, had a track on her property, though it was not turned out so expertly. Perhaps this deal of theirs would prove enjoyable to some extent for she was already itching to try out the amenities.
“I can only assume you have brought me an answer?” The duke’s voice slid across her thoughts like honey—warm and smooth.
Caught off guard, Narissa turned toward the entrance, her heart beating a crescendo. The duke strolled toward her with long, confident steps. His black day coat and buff breeches hugging his masculine form. She forced her gaze to meet his and swallowed in an effort to clear her throat. “I have.”
He came to a stop in front of her. So close that his body heat radiated into her even though they did not touch. “And?” He drew out the word, arching a dark brow as he
stared into her gaze.
Narissa experienced a moment of doubt. Something about this man signaled danger. Perhaps his devilish good looks? More likely his confidence. Most likely of all, her reaction to him whenever he came near.
Devil take it, he was only a man. An insufferable ass of a man at that. Surely she did not desire him. Narissa averted her gaze, attempting to gather her wits. She’d not allow the devil to unsettle her.
He reached out, touching her shoulder. Heat spiraled through her, warming her body further. She took a step back desperately needing space. “You have left me no choice other than to agree.”
“Perfect. You will start today.” He smiled, a bone melting roguish grin that probably had most ladies swooning into his arms.
Not her. There would be no swooning, no fantasizing, no anything. She’d do what was required of her then forget she’d even crossed paths with the Duke of Blackmore.
Narissa nodded. She would rather do almost anything other than spend time in his presence, even suffer the loss of most of her possessions. Nonetheless, she’d not risk her club. Surely, she could keep from making a cake of herself and control this situation. She had to.
“Very well. I will return this afternoon.” She started for the door in a rush to get away. Not because she found him unpleasant or detested his touch. How she wished that were the reason for her actions. But no, she found his company all too pleasant, too tempting. And far too intimate. What the devil was wrong with her? A light touch to the shoulder should not have any effect on her, but his had left her spinning.
Even now.
TIRED OF WAITING, Seth made his way to the stable. He ordered both Banshee and Highflier saddled, then went to the tack room to await Lady Narissa’s arrival. He wanted the horses ready so that she could get straight to work. As charming as her attributes were, he had no wish to waste time in her company—no desire to be further irritated by her sharp tongue either.
Dashing Rogues: A Historical Romance Collection Page 16
