Page 48 of The Fortune Hunter’s Gamble

The other man chuckled. “I prefer fortune finder. They seem to simply tumble into my lap. Developed a fondness for the arts, have you?”

Delaval was a rogue and a rakehell, but somehow his antics were never quite enough to get him cast out of Polite Society. The allowance might be due to his being the son of the previous Duke of Hunsdon. Bastard son, as His Grace made a bigamous marriage and only later did the truth come out, bestowing the ducal title and inheritance on an elder son that everyone had assumed was the bastard.

Delaval was on good terms with the legitimate side of the family, to all reports, and anyone who dared snub him would likely turn up on the wrong side of the current Duke of Hunsdon’s temper. Delaval circulated through the Albion with regularity, winning and losing thousands at a throw, but he somehow managed to keep himself shy of utter disgrace. He and Rowden were genial acquaintances, but Rowden would not call them friends.

“Or perhaps you’re here to indulge someone else with a fondness for the arts.” Ned’s roving eye went straight to Sophronia, who at that inopportune moment chose to tip back her head, exposing her lovely throat and décolletage to full view, and let loose her beguiling laugh.

“My cousin Giles is the artistic one,” Rowden said. Delaval had no business looking at Sophronia, and certainly not with such an appreciative eye.

“Ah, yes, the scion and pride of Lord Denford’s house, as Denford will let you know within a moment of meeting him.”

Ned’s gaze found Giles, who stood with his arm entwined with Lily’s before an enormous oil of a deer being caught in the jaws of hounds, while an imperious goddess looked on. Diana and Acteon, Rowden would guess, another example of a man destroyed by a woman.

“He doesn’t look well, Rowden,” Delaval remarked. It took Rowden a moment to place that Ned was referring to Giles, who indeed looked pale and peaked, though his eyes shone bright as he gestured with animation at the painting. Unnaturally bright, as a matter of fact. Rowden squinted at his cousin. Had Giles managed to find a supply of opium Rowden didn’t know about?

“He’s been in better spirits since our friends came to town. They’ve given him new diversions,” Rowden said.

“I’d feel improved too if I had such a lovely ornament for my arm.” Delaval studied Lily with approval, but there was something avuncular in his appraisal of the younger girl—nothing like the flare of interest in his eyes when he beheld Sophronia.

Rowden curled his hands into fists so he didn’t lunge at the other man and try to throttle him. Delaval had a few extra years on Rowden; he was also lean and not quite as tall, but anyone who challenged him to a fencing bout at Angelo’s or an exhibition round at Gentleman Jackson’s, which shared Bond Street premises, felt the effects of a beating the next day.

That wouldn’t stop Rowden from tackling him right here in the Great Room if the man made a play for Sophronia. Splendid image that would make for the caricatures.

“And here I thought you were courting one Mary Kemp.” Delaval looked about the room. “But I see her there under Queen Charlotte, escorted by that rascal Gibbs.”

“I was never courting Mary Kemp,” Rowden said through gritted teeth. “Hold a moment—Gibbs?”

Delaval winked at Rowden. “Your visitor has been gaining quite the reputation as a matchmaker. I’ll take care not to put m’self in her way or end up with a leg shackle.”

“Ro? She’s only been in London a handful of weeks.” Rowden stared at the sight of Miss Kemp blushing on the arm of Rowden’s faithless friend. No doubt Sophronia had a hand in this, putting Mary ever so gently in the way of Gibbs, who was on the hunt for a wife, and thus clearing the path for Miss Westall.

Meddling, interfering, infernal woman. If she won this bet, she would be selecting candidates for his bride, which was intolerable. He had to win, so he could make his own demands about her future partner.

Which would be him.

Rowden charged past a family group that stood contemplating one portrait, the mother describing the picture in detail to a young woman who stood arm in arm with her, a cap pulled low over her brows. The man reared and blinked at him, and Rowden recognized the Squire Eatwell but did not pause for introductions. Who knew what Eatwell had told his wife about his adventures at the Albion, or what the wife would think of being introduced to the club owner.

“Miss Kemp. Gibbs.” Rowden’s greeting was barely polite. “Have you located Mrs. Hinton in this crush? I am sure she will want to see you.”

“Hello, Mr. Rowden.” Mary Kemp blushed, but then, she always blushed in Rowden’s company. “Mrs. Hinton sent a note inviting us to meet her here. We thought we might, since we have some joyous news to impart.”

“Joyous?” Rowden raised his eyebrows. Miss Kemp turned a shade of cherry, embarrassment mingled with alarm.

“Yes, I— We—” She looked with appeal to her companion.

Gibbs patted her hand, which rested on his forearm. “Miss Kemp has made me the happiest of men.” He gave Rowden an outrageous wink. “It’s all due to you, my friend, and your delightful Mrs. Hinton. I could never have persuaded Mary to accept me without her help.”

Rowden made every effort to unclench his teeth into a genuine smile. “Felicitations, I am sure. Does Soph—Mrs. Hinton know of the good turn she has done you both?”

“Will you tell her for us?” Mary shot a covert glance at Sophronia’s group. “She is currently engaged with Lady Payne, and I—well, I am not sure I ought to be introduced to her.” The girl’s voice dropped. “Her marriage to the Earl Payne, when he was heir to the Marquess of Arendale, was not altogether…proper.”

Rowden blinked at her. This was the girl he had thought a fit for Giles?

“My Mary is so delicate,” Gibbs said proudly. “Such a sense of the niceties. I know she’ll keep me on the straight and narrow, for a certain.”

Mary’s color changed to a becoming pink. “Oh, George,” she simpered. “It will be the honor of my life to be guided by you.”

“I’ll convey your happy news,” Rowden said shortly. “I’ve no doubt Mrs. Hinton will be effusive in her congratulations.”