Page 13 of Saving a Scoundrel
“How can you say that after the scandal your sister caused last year?”
Lucius shrugged. “She ended up married to the right man.”
Danvers shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about my sister. Let’s talk about your widow, Comstock. She laughs like a bloody hyena; how can you stand it?”
Everyone laughed. But Comstock was nonplussed. “She makes for a good swive, but she is a bit worn. Hardly a challenge with the lady so eager to please.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Lucius noticed Mercer had moved to stand behind Mr. Fischer at the dice table. The man silently watched the play from ten feet back. Lucius wondered if the discrepancy he found in the books could be noticed by Mercer. How could Mr. Fischer be manipulating the dice?
“What I need is a good challenge, a girl so pure she would be a pleasure to ruin.”
Once again, he tried to ignore his friend’s conversation. If they weren’t betting on cards or horses, they were betting against each other’s prowess with women. Once upon a time, he thought it hilarious, but it mostly made him roll his eyes these days. Lucius took a swig of his beer. Perhaps he was just getting too old for their games of intrigue.
Mr. Fischer slid a hand under the table quick as a wink. Lucius wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been observing the man closely. With his other hand, the dealer passed the dice to the next roller. Lucius glanced sharply over at Mercer. The man nodded once, then turned on his heel and walked toward the back of the hell. He would report what he saw to Castell. Fischer would be dealt with later.
“What about Susanna Dearborn? She’s back from exile,” Quincy said.
“She’d never give you the time of day. She’s only interested in horseflesh,” Danvers replied.
“What about her new friend? The one with the bubbies.”
Lucius swung his gaze back to the conversation. “What are you talking about?”
“You know the lady in yellow with big…” Comstock brought his hands up to cup the air in front of his chest.
“I heard she’s a vicar’s daughter,” Danvers said. “Can’t get any more pure than that.”
They were talking about Eleanor. Lucius scrambled through his memory of this evening, trying to find another girl to suggest to steer away their interest. Damn, if he didn’t remember anyone else. Ever since he spotted her on the balcony like some damn damsel in distress, Eleanor had been all he saw tonight. “What about Miss Perkins?” Lucius threw out casually. She was pretty enough.
Quincy shook his head. “Are you mad? She has four older brothers! Four! I say the vicar’s daughter.”
Danvers nodded, and both men looked to Comstock. They were like sharks that had scented blood in the water.
“She’d never give you lot the time of day.” Lucius scoffed before realizing his mistake.Never give them a challenge, you idiot.He attempted to backtrack carefully. “Besides, she’s awfully plain, hardly a catch if you ask me.” Lucius took another swallow of beer, trying to quench his parched throat.
“So, what’s the bet, lads?” Hartwick asked the table.
“First one to seduce the vicar’s daughter wins. No bad-mouthing the other lads to the lady in question—one thousand pounds.” Comstock slapped a hand on the table.
Lucius watched as each of the men took turns writing out a marker on scraps of paper provided by the club. One thousand fucking pounds? Just to tumble an innocent girl? They were real bastards. Not that he didn’t already know that. How had he missed what was going on?
Fuck.
Lucius pushed his winnings across the table. “I’m in.”
Varying degrees of surprise flashed around the faces at the table. Hartwick went as far as to raise his eyebrows. Lucius shrugged in return. It was the only way he could protect her from the others. If he were part of the bet, then he’d have a reason to keep close to her. And he would play dirty; rules be damned.
“The pretty boy is in? Why? Won’t Rosemary be angry to share you?” Comstock smirked.
Lucius ran a coin up and over each knuckle and back—a trick he knew drove Danvers nuts. He never could master it. “I’m finished with her. Planned on sending her back to her husband anyway.”
“I saw you dancing with the vicar’s daughter tonight.” Danvers narrowed his eyes. “Do you know her?”
“No. Just lucky, I guess. I got first crack.” He would never admit to these sharks he knew her. It would only make them more invested in beating him out. Stupid assholes and their fucking bets. Lucius channeled all his anger into the coin. Back and forth, he manipulated the gold piece from one knuckle to the next.
Hartwick broke the tension. “All right, gents. I’ll keep the pot. You lot get me the funds for these markers by the end of the week. No filching. And I’ll match all of your bets. Four thousand says none of you can seduce her.”
The crown he’d been playing with clattered to the table. Lucius gaped at his friend. That brought the winnings to eight thousand pounds. A bloody small fortune.
