Even as she had the thought, she understood Gina’s desire to marry. Not every woman flourished in solitude. There was something to be said for being part of something, of someone. But only if it was the right something, the right someone. Otherwise, one was guaranteed naught but misery.
The door to her bedchamber burst open and Gina flounced in, spread her arms wide, and spun in a circle. “Isn’t he wonderful!”
She flopped onto the bed and smiled up at the canopy as though it represented heaven. “He’s so remarkably handsome and charming. And one day he’ll be a duke and I shall be his duchess. How lucky I am!”
Tillie wasn’t quite so certain. She crossed over, sat on the edge of the bed, and took her sister’s hand. “Sweeting, you have to search beneath his chiseled nose and strong jaw—”
Gina bounced up into a sitting position. “You noticed?”
His features had been engraved into her brain as effectively as they’d been carved into his face. “How could one not?”
“His eyes are such an incredible blue. I could become lost in them.”
“That’s the thing, Gina, you don’t want to become lost when you’re with a man. You need to keep your wits about you. With clever questions, you need to dig into his past, his present, his likes, his dislikes in order to determine what he’s really about. Men put on a false façade when they’re courting, especially when the lady in question is in possession of a fortune. At some point, you even need to make him angry.”
Hard lessons learned.
Shock washed over Gina’s delicate features. “Why ever would I do something as unpleasant as all that? If I’m not biddable, he’ll move on to someone else.”
“If upsetting him causes him to take his affections elsewhere then they never were yours to begin with.”
“Is that what happened with you and Downie? You never talk about it.”
And she never would. Marriage to him had been horrendous. He’d never struck her with his fists, but words sometimes cut deeper. “The man who courted me was not the man I married. It’s important for you to discover all you can about the person you’re marrying. Take this afternoon for example. He spoke very little to you. It’s as though you were a prize he was showing off.”
“I think he just didn’t know what to say because we don’t know each other very well.”
That wasn’t it. He and Tillie knew each other even less and yet he never seemed to lack for words where she was concerned. He hadn’t settled for something as mundane as the shape or hue of a petal when he spoke with her. “Which means he should attempt to get to know you, all aspects of you, and I just didn’t have the sense he was striving to do that.”
All the exuberance drained from Gina, and Tillie hated that she’d burst her sister’s bubble of happiness, but she couldn’t stand the thought of her marrying a man who didn’t appreciate her, who wouldn’t treat her as kindly and as well as she deserved. Her mother had guided Tillie toward a title and nothing else. She’d never sought to counsel her on the ways of men, on how to best determine what lurked within their souls—whether it was for good or wicked.
“Do you think it’s possible you made him uncomfortable?” Gina asked. “I did catch you glaring a few times.”
“I doubt anyone makes the Marquess of Rexton uncomfortable.”
“He does seem rather strong, doesn’t he? Very sure of himself. I was left with the impression he wanted to be driving the horses himself.”
Tillie smiled encouragingly at her sister. “Yes, I think you’re correct there. He didn’t seem to have the patience for just sitting. I actually think he would have preferred to be out riding.”
Gina perked up. “I’ll suggest that next time, that we go riding instead of in the carriage.”
Again that tightening in her chest when she thought of her sister with Rexton. It was damned irritating. She wanted her sister to find happiness, and it was quite possible that Tillie had misread the marquess and his intentions.
“Just don’t become so infatuated with the notion you’ll become a duchess someday that you forget you’ll be married to the duke. Pay very close attention to the way he treats you, to the things he says, look for little signs that he’s not being honest with you.”
“Such as?”
So many things. Where to even begin? “His attention diverting to other women when he’s with you. Talking at you and not with you. It’s difficult really to explain.”
Gina shifted around on the bed, took Tillie’s hands, and squeezed. “You’re so much wiser than I am, Tillie. You’re right that I get so caught up in being with him that I don’t pay as much attention as I should. I’m not objective because he makes my stomach do all these crazy somersaults. But you, you’re objective.”
Not so much. Not really. Especially as he made her stomach feel queasy.
“He’s invited me to go to the theater tomorrow evening. Will you come with us? We’ll tell him you’re serving as my chaperone, which you will be, but you can also analyze him. Help me determine if he’s the one.”
Tillie shook her head. One afternoon in his presence was enough. “No, I don’t think that would be wise.”
“Why not?”
Because he caused her to grow warm, to wonder what his kisses might be like, if his lips were as soft as they appeared. He made her wonder what his hands looked like without gloves, what his chest looked like without a shirt, what his backside looked like without trousers. What his front side looked like as well. “I don’t think I made him uncomfortable, as you insinuated earlier, but I do think I might be a distraction.”
“Because he’s drawn to you?”
Tillie shot off the bed and began pacing. “No, of course not. But he does know I’m judging him. I said as much before you joined us in the parlor.”
“Then he’ll probably expect you to accompany us. I need you, Tillie. I need your guidance. I don’t want to make an awful mistake like you did.”
Tillie brought her pacing to an abrupt halt.
“I’m sorry,” Gina said quickly. “I didn’t mean to say you made a mistake.”
Tillie smiled softly at her. “But I did. Then I made it worse.” And tainted her sister in the process. “Rexton requires a wife who is not stained by scandal. The reception we received at the park had nothing to do with his horses, and everything to do with my presence. In public, we must be separate and keep a distance between us if you are to have any hope at all of snagging a future duke—or any lord for that matter.”
“That’s hardly fair.”
“But it is the way of things.” Returning to the bed, she took Gina’s hands and squeezed. “I want you to find happiness. Nothing matters more to me.”
“I want you to be happy, too.”
“And I will be. Once you are well situated.”
Some minutes later, when Gina returned to her bedchamber, she rang for her maid. While waiting, she removed her hat and gloves before glowering at her reflection in the mirror. “Not as clever as you thought, are you?”
The rap on her door was faint. Her servant come to call. “Enter.”
Annie came in and closed the door behind her. “Yes, miss?”
“Should Lady Landsdowne ask after your megrim, tell her it’s fine now and thank her for her concern.”
“My megrim, miss?”
Gina sat on the bench in front of her dressing table. “It is as I suspected, Annie. His interest in me is feigned.” She had a feeling her uncle had put him up to it, although she wasn’t certain what Rexton hoped to gain with his actions. Perhaps he was simply a kind man helping a friend. But he wasn’t at all like the heroes in the romance novels she read. He didn’t make her feel light-headed or grow warm or tingle anywhere that she ought not.
She was rather certain the same couldn’t be said for Tillie. When she had met the marquess, she’d suspected that might be the case. And his interest in her sister wasn’t feigned. That was obvious. Although Tillie might deny it, when Gina had walked into t
he parlor, she’d been nearly scalded by the heat generated between Rexton and Tillie. That’s when she had decided that rather than sending for her maid to function as chaperone, she would ask Tillie to serve in the role.
It had been quite fascinating to watch the two of them verbally sparring, striving to get the better of each other. But if a man looked at Gina with a gaze as smoldering as Rexton’s when his eyes settled on Tillie—
Well, Gina certainly would encourage his suit.
She knew Tillie well enough to know she would not do any encouraging when it came to the man, so it was left to Gina to guide her along. Her sister had been gravely hurt, suspected all men of being up to no good. Perhaps she was right. Or perhaps she needed someone like the Marquess of Rexton to help heal her damaged heart.
But because of Tillie’s stubbornness, Gina was going to have to think of another ruse to get her sister to accompany her to the theater. It was going to take a great deal of ingenuity because she couldn’t have her maid fall ill again. She feared when all was said and done, she was going to turn out to be a very poor matchmaker.
Chapter 3
If one truly wanted to know what was going on in aristocratic circles then one went to the Twin Dragons, a gaming hell whose members were both male and female. Oddly the men gossiped far more than the ladies, but Rexton knew in order to discover if his courting of Miss Hammersley had been noticed and was being taken seriously that an evening at the card table in the main grand salon was likely to provide the answer.
He preferred playing in a private room where the stakes were higher, but for tonight he settled at a table with one lady and four other gents, one of them being the Earl of Landsdowne. He told himself he’d chosen that particular group because he wanted to get a sense of how Downie might react to his courting his former sister-in-law, wanted to ensure the man wasn’t going to undermine Rexton’s efforts to get Gina married to someone. But he had to acknowledge he was curious regarding what Downie might reveal about the woman he’d divorced. Maybe he’d even know why she’d taken up with the blasted footman.
He couldn’t deny love was an odd thing. His family and circle of closest friends were a mixture of nobility and commoner, of the upright, the staunch obeyers of the law, as well as pickpockets, thieves, and swindlers. Therefore he understood the heart controlled destinies more than the head or social position. Still he could no more envision Lady Landsdowne with the butler than he could imagine himself with a Whitechapel whore. He had discerning tastes and he suspected the countess did as well. And here he was thinking about her again when he should be concentrating on her sister, on ensuring he met the terms he’d agreed to with Hammersley so he had access to the stud he wanted.
Or at that precise moment, considering he’d lost three hands in a row, perhaps he should focus on the cards he was dealt. Or ensuring Downie won. The earl tended to get a bit more verbose when Lady Luck was smiling down on him, so perhaps Rexton should continue to play haphazardly. In private, he tended to gamble with those who were very skilled at manipulating cards, at judging odds, and at reading the deck. So although it went against the grain, he began tossing away cards he shouldn’t.
“Not having much luck tonight, are you, Rexton?” Downie finally crowed.
Rexton had forgotten how quickly the earl grated on his nerves. “No luck at cards tonight, it seems, but I have been having luck elsewhere. With a lady at least.”
The solitary female at the table, Lady Edith Leland, to whom he’d been introduced the night before, lifted her twinkling brown gaze from her cards and smiled at him. “With Miss Hammersley, it would seem. I noticed her in your carriage at the park this afternoon.”
He took a quick glance at his cards, tossed away two jacks. “Indeed. She honored me with her presence. She’s quite a delight.”
That two of the other unmarried gents at the table perked up with his comment gave him a sense of satisfaction. By night’s end, he’d have the girl’s dance card filled at the next ball she attended.
“Gina?” Downie scoffed. “I’d be careful there, old man. If she’s anything at all like her sister, she’ll be naught but trouble. You’ll barely have her dowry in hand before she’s sneaking off with a footman and doing her best to bring you down.”
Rexton was tempted to tell him one night in his bed would be enough to convince her no footman, no other man, would satisfy her. But he was rocked with the realization he wasn’t envisioning Gina in his bed but rather Lady Landsdowne. When he thought of her with Downie, he had a sick churning in his gut as though he’d eaten something rancid. “I’m quite certain I can keep her content.”
Although when it came to Gina, he had no interest in keeping her at all. She was like a small fish to be tossed back into the pond for someone else—and now guilt was niggling at him for that unkind thought. He was not in the habit of being mean to women, thinking ill thoughts toward them, or taking advantage. He would redouble his efforts to find her someone more worthy than he was.
Downie exposed his cards, gave a satisfied smirk as those of the other players were revealed, before taking the chips from the center of the table with hands that appeared too soft. Rexton didn’t want to think of them caressing Lady Landsdowne’s stomach, shifting up to cup her breasts, circling around to cradle her backside. The man himself was handsome enough, even if his lips were so thin as to be nearly nonexistent. As the dealer began passing out the cards, Rexton heard himself ask, “I can’t recall, Downie. How long were you married?”
“Three years before we separated and I petitioned for divorce. Although the time required to see me completely free of her seemed to pass as slowly as an eternity. These American girls are deuced spoiled, Rexton. Mark my words: you are better off with an English lass who knows her place and understands tradition.”
Even from where he sat, he sensed Lady Edith teeming with indignation—or maybe it was himself bristling. He was accustomed to being surrounded by the strong women in his family. Their places had always been at their husbands’ sides, if not a step in front of them. He imagined Lady Landsdowne—Tillie—as young and innocent as her sister, her blue eyes wide and filled with hope and promise, her smiles coming easily. It bothered him now to realize he’d not seen her smile, not a true smile. She’d given him a few sardonic twists of her lips, but nothing genuine, nothing joyful.
He exchanged only two cards. He was going to ensure Downie didn’t win this hand.
“If I might be so bold, Lord Rexton,” Lady Edith whispered, although her voice carried over the table, “I noticed the other lady in the carriage. That wouldn’t have been the notorious heiress herself, would it?”
He gave her a hard look, one he’d practiced in his youth when he’d wanted to intimidate his younger brother, who had once told him his narrowed eyes reminded him of a finely honed rapier.
The poor girl blushed. “Lady Landsdowne, I mean.”
“Indeed it was. She was serving as chaperone for her sister.”
“Ha!” Downie exclaimed, loudly enough that people at other tables looked over at them. “Mathilda is hardly suitable for the role of ensuring a young lady behaves. She knows nothing at all about proper behavior.”
“She served well enough,” Rexton said. “Kept me on a short leash.”
“Don’t be a fool, Rexton. My former wife had no idea how to conduct herself in order to make me proud. To be quite honest, I was glad to be rid of her.”
And I’m glad she’s rid of you. The sentiment came fast, without thought, the protectiveness accompanying it surprising him. No, it was more than that. He felt a low simmering rage, slowly becoming cognizant that his free hand had fisted on the table so tightly it ached.
“I’ve never seen her before,” Lady Edith said pensively. “She’s quite beautiful.”
“Beauty is as beauty does, my girl,” Downie insisted. “I assure you nothing about that deplorable woman comes close to beauty. She is a conniving, vindictive whore.”
Lady Edith gasped.
>
“Watch your language, Downie,” Lord Somerdale said before Rexton could deliver a scathing retort while giving his clenched fist the freedom to deliver a solid blow to the offending man’s jaw. “We have a lady present at the table.”
“This is a gambling hell, not a parlor where tea is served. She can move elsewhere if she’s offended.”
“You can move elsewhere, Landsdowne,” Rexton said in a low voice that shimmered with threat. Although in truth, he didn’t want the man to leave the table, as it would make it more difficult to take his last farthing if he did. “Or you can remember that Drake Darling expects his members to behave with civility and good manners. Apologize to Lady Edith or take yourself elsewhere.”
“You can’t order me about, Rexton.”
Rexton knew the smile he bestowed upon the man was somewhat chilling since Somerdale moved back slightly as though he expected a fist to come flying in his direction while the other gent began studying his cards as though they might run off if they weren’t watched carefully. “Have you forgotten Darling is my brother?”
“Not by blood.”
“By all that matters, so I’m compelled to remind you of the rules of this club. All I have to do is snap my fingers to have two gents come over and escort you out. Lady Luck might not smile on you as beneficently elsewhere. Now apologize.”
Landsdowne glared at him for all of a heartbeat before turning his attention to the young woman. “Lady Edith, my sincerest apologies. Talk of my former countess always brings out the worst in me, because it was a very difficult time in my life. I hope you will forgive my slip of the tongue.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Being a generous sort, Rexton let Lady Edith win that hand. Then he took Landsdowne for every penny he’d brought to the table. The thing about being a member of a family of pickpockets, thieves, and swindlers was that one became very skilled at cheating without getting caught.
An Affair with a Notorious Heiress Page 4
