Never Trust a Scoundrel (11 page)

Daniel didn't need to look up to know when Grace entered the room. To his surprise, he felt it, as if a lavender-scented current moved through the room. She was with her friend Lady Standish, and though they didn't look his way, a path seemed magically to appear between them. Various guests looked back and forth as if waiting to see what would happen.

How had one waltz with Grace made them of such interest?

Well, it wasn't just a waltz. She'd made it seem like he'd rescued her from a runaway horse. She'd dragged him to work at a meal for the poor. Some might have thought a marriage pending, but most understood the sort of man he was. They all probably believed that Grace was deceiving herself about him. And that made him feel the first twinge of guilt, which was ridiculous.

Grace understood their relationship. He just had to stop thinking about her so protectively. He had spent last night in her parents' suite, watching for a man in the shadows of the street who had never appeared. Feeling ridiculous, he had vowed to hire an investigator and find out what was going on once and for all.

Lord Cheston harrumphed and rocked back on his heels. Daniel realized that he'd completely forgotten about the old man. Sometimes it was hard to read his expression beneath his heavy muttonchop whiskers and thick mustache, but for once, Daniel knew sympathy when he saw it.

“Never thought it would happen to you, Throckmorten,” his lordship said gruffly.

“And what would that be, my lord?”

“You're being manipulated by a woman.”

Daniel smiled, almost wishing he could explain that it was really the other way around, that Grace was doing her best to keep him off guard so that she wouldn't have to admit how much her control was really slipping.

“I saw you waltz with her,” Lord Cheston continued.

Daniel arched a brow at him. “Your point?”

“You were far too intent on her. And then that meal at the park in Bethnal Green—how did you let yourself be talked into something that is a woman's domain?”

Daniel realized he could hardly explain that he'd been tricked. But then all the pieces seemed to fall together, and he finally realized how all this was connected.

Was Grace's plan to make him appealing to the
ton
once again? Was she trying to change him, to make him better in their eyes? He almost laughed aloud.

Daniel was directed to escort Grace into dinner, and the seating plan had them dining beside one another. Lady Cheston—and everyone else—obviously thought that Grace was manipulating him for herself and were going to go along with the plan. Or at least see what sparks flew, satisfying their insatiable demand for gossip.

So Daniel decided to give them a show. Instead of occupying himself with Grace, as they all expected, he monopolized the dinner conversation of the lady on his left and the gentleman across from her.

If everyone thought he needed improving, let them all give it a try.

When several courses of the meal had gone by, and he hadn't even looked at Grace, he saw the whispers and the disapproving stares sent his way. They all thought that he owed Grace his attention. But he was still faintly annoyed that he'd taken so long to discover her plan.

To his surprise, he suddenly felt Grace's hand on his right thigh. Plenty of women had done such a thing clandestinely, but somehow, knowing that it was innocent Grace, whose delights he'd only just begun to taste and explore, made him go instantly hard, instantly tense.

He laughed a bit too loudly at something Miss Alton said on his left and received even more curious stares for it, although the lady herself blushed and batted her lashes at him.

Grace's hand began to move, fingers lightly trailing a sensuous path down to his knee, then up again, all at a slow, deliberate pace.

He began to perspire.

What was wrong with him? Plenty of women had thrown themselves at him.

But not innocent young ladies who talked enough to their friends to know what drove a man wild.

He wasn't going to give in to her bid for attention. He asked Miss Alton to meet with him again after dinner, when the ladies and gentlemen rejoined one another in the drawing room.

Grace's fingers did not go all the way to his groin, and he was only partly relieved, the other part frustrated. He could have laughed at his own dilemma.

He whispered his most devilish suggestion in Miss Alton's ear. She gave a little gasp, her face went white, and she began to cough, as if she'd swallowed something the wrong way.

Grace's fingers slid down between his thighs, and he closed them on her hand.

The man on Miss Alton's left patted her back as she got herself under control. The stares he received were appalled yet unsurprised, as if he'd done what they all expected. Miss Alton's stare was both unsettled, which was only natural, and…curious.

“Mr. Throckmorten,” she said in a soft voice, “there's no need to say such an outrageous thing simply to prove to Miss Banbury that she can't tame you.”

“Tame me?”

But she'd already turned away, and he was left staring at her upswept blond curls. He turned to Grace, who'd finally pulled her hand free and was now frowning at him as much as everyone else.

He leaned toward her. “Forgive me for not going along with your plans for me.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she said softly, then lifted a glass of wine to her mouth.

Had she meant to improve him for all the women? Surely then she couldn't be upset by his conversation with Miss Alton. Wasn't that the whole point of Grace's plan? Or was she just trying to drive him crazy wondering what she was up to?

But her hand didn't return to his lap. If he had just gone along with the game, who knew what she might have done to get his attention?

A
fter dinner, when all the guests were reunited in the drawing room, Daniel decided to finish with the family questions by approaching Chris himself.

When a man talking to Chris saw Daniel coming, he looked between the two and excused himself.

“You are good at scaring people away,” Chris said dryly.

Daniel sipped his brandy. “It's one of the more useful family traits.”

“Hmm.” Chris eyed him. “Interesting show you put on with both of your dinner partners.”

Daniel shrugged. “I had to live up to everyone's expectations.”

“Then why were you deliberately ignoring Miss Banbury? I understand from certain people that she's decided to make you her project.”

Daniel grinned. “So they think.”

“That's not the truth? Because if you were ignoring her, it certainly looked like there was tension between you. But then I'm your cousin, and I know you better than others do.”

“Making me her project is part of the truth, but it's only her attempt to counter me.”

“I don't understand.”

Smiling, Daniel eyed him. “You don't need to.”

“She seems to have chosen you deliberately, Daniel. I've done some investigating.”

“Aren't you the thorough duke.”

Chris ignored his interruption. “Her family has little money, although she does have a dowry. Perhaps she's targeting you because—”

“She knows I don't want to marry her, and she doesn't want to marry me.”

“You're deluding yourself. You have money and connections, and now that you're attending more of these events, they're going to see that you're available. Miss Banbury is simply the most recent to express interest.”

“Interest?” Daniel echoed with amusement. “I wouldn't call it that.”

“Stop being so mysterious.” Chris rolled his eyes.

“Very well, here's the answer to some of your questions. Miss Banbury is trying to change me, yes, but only to win back an antique violin that I won from her…family.”

“Ah, that brother of hers who doesn't know when to quit.”

Daniel didn't correct him.

“It's a sentimental heirloom?”

“An expensive one.”

Daniel had said too much, for Chris's eyes lit with understanding.

“She needs to sell it,” Chris said slowly.

“So she's trying to best me. I think the way to counter her is to get her away from her audience. I'm thinking about taking her out of London for several days.”

“You'd be playing into her hands if she wanted to trap you,” Chris said.

But Daniel knew he would also have a better chance to win their private challenge if he could get her alone all day—and all night. And he'd be keeping her away from the stranger outside her town house while Daniel had him found.

He was looking at Grace, who was seated on a sofa with her friend Lady Standish. They were talking together as softly as Daniel and Chris, and suddenly Daniel had to know what they were discussing.

He inclined his head to his cousin and began to move unobtrusively about the fringes of the drawing room. That was difficult to do when one had a duke in tow, but they managed it. When he'd positioned himself behind the sofa, he pointed to a sculpture there as if discussing it with Chris. Chris frowned at him but dutifully examined the piece of art.

Grace, intent on her conversation, hadn't seen them.

Lady Standish said in a low voice, “You've been bringing attention to yourself, Grace. I just heard Lady Cheston say she plans to pay a call on you.”

“I had hoped to avoid that,” Grace answered.

Though Daniel wasn't looking at her, he could hear the weariness in her voice.

“I didn't think anyone would want to visit someone of such a low social stature,” Grace continued. “You know how bare the town house is. What will she think?”

Lady Standish spoke kindly. “Perhaps there are furnishings in other rooms that can be moved downstairs.”

Before Daniel could hear any more, Chris suddenly took his elbow and pulled him to the next piece of art, a painting on the wall.

“I told you she was after you for your money,” Chris said quietly.

“None of this is her fault. Both her mother and brother have a problem with gambling. She's only trying to save herself and her brother. It's not about marrying me.”

“How else does a young lady save her family?”

Daniel wavered, but only for a moment. Grace could have what she wanted from him by restraining herself for another week. She wouldn't want to jeopardize that. And she didn't strike him as the kind of woman who would try to marry a man she didn't love.

“Look, I've already helped make her a more attractive prospect for any of these young bucks,” Daniel said. “She's grateful enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I've shown interest in her, which makes other men notice her. And I could hardly meet up with her at all of these events if she couldn't prepare
herself for them. So I hired two servants for the house.”

“
Her
house?”

Daniel winced and looked about to make sure they weren't being overheard. “Technically, my house. I won it from her mother. Grace would have been out on the street.”

“So you're her savior,” Chris said grimly.

“Hardly. I'm her challenger. She thinks she can defeat me. I'm letting her think it.”

“I think you're deluding yourself and that there's more to the story.”

Daniel said nothing. What could he say without explaining private details he had no intention of sharing with anyone but Grace?

“She could have meant for you to overhear this latest plight of hers,” Chris added.

“Then it worked. I'm going to hire a decorator to refurbish the town house.”

Chris winced. “If anyone else finds out, you'll have ruined her. And then you'll be forced to marry her. Perhaps that's her strategy.”

“It's not. She knows I would never let anyone force me to marry. But I can't mount a true challenge if my opponent is weaker than I am. She has to meet me equally, especially in Society. It will make winning all the more satisfying.”

“So what happens if you win the violin? She'll have nothing, and you'll feel sorry for her.”

“I'm going to give her back the town house. I don't need it.”

With a groan, Chris ran a hand down his face.

“Surely my masterpiece is not so terrible,” said a woman's voice behind them.

Daniel turned to find Lady Cheston looking at them both coldly.

“I did paint this, you know,” she added.

Chris recovered with his usual good nature. “Lady Cheston, you misunderstand us. My cousin and I were betting on the artist's identity, and I was insisting we already had something by the artist in Madingley House.”

Lady Cheston blushed. “Something of mine? You silly young man. I'm not talented enough for the honor of hanging in a duke's home.”

And once again, Chris had taken care of another tricky situation. Smiling to himself, Daniel let his gaze drift around the room.

When Grace later made certain he knew that she'd accepted a ride home from Lady Standish, Daniel felt that everyone seemed to be conspiring against him this evening. He would not be kidnapping her tonight.

 

After the dinner party, Daniel went looking for Edward Banbury. Someone at the club told him two of Banbury's favorite gambling haunts, and Daniel found him at the second one, a gaming house for Society's fashionables, decorated in rich reds and blacks, with crystal chandeliers gleaming above.

At least Banbury hadn't sunk to one of the city's infamous gaming hells where he could get himself killed if he couldn't cover his bets.

Here, among the wealthy, he would only lose his honor. Daniel sensed that Banbury was holding on to it by his fingernails.

He watched Banbury for several minutes as the man stood by the hazard table. Banbury couldn't seem to stand still—he kept moving to get a better angle to watch someone else rolling the dice, but he didn't bet himself.

Daniel finally approached him. “May I speak with you, Banbury?”

The man stiffened, but finally nodded and followed Daniel to the lavish supper table. They helped themselves to a selection of cheesecakes, and then stood in a corner of the room, eating and watching the play around them.

“So what do you want?” Banbury finally asked.

“I'm going to send a decorator to look at the town house, listen to his recommendations for furnishings, and then have those items delivered.”

Banbury set his fork on his plate with controlled deliberateness. “Until you are rid of us, you need to keep away.”

“It's my town house, and I wish it to look just so.”

Banbury opened his mouth, but Daniel continued talking before he could be interrupted.

“Your sister is beginning to make calls in Society, and that means they will be returning her calls, some out of plain curiosity.”

Banbury stiffened, his face slowly flushing red. Daniel felt reluctant compassion, knowing how
Banbury and Grace had grown up. And she loved her brother, flaws and all.

“And that will help her find a good man to marry,” Banbury said with belligerence.

“I know.”

Banbury ran a hand through his hair, not looking at Daniel. “What I did with the furnishings never mattered,” he said in a low, hoarse voice. “I was just a bachelor in that house. And then Grace came, and not only has she been hurt by our mother, but by me.”

Daniel didn't know what to say. Though he'd thought himself burdened with a crazy, scandalous family, at least they'd always been there, worrying too much about him and giving him a decent upbringing. After their father's death, Grace and her brother had never had any kind of stability. And now their mother had taken even the safety of a home from them.

He sensed that Banbury was on the edge of a precipice, and one wrong decision could send him plummeting. And then Grace would suffer even more.

“I'm not like you, Throckmorten. You seem to control the game. But it controls me.”

Daniel said nothing for a moment. “Did you think about what I said about the railways?”

“I read a book,” Banbury said wearily.

“That's good. Research is important. I could tell you what I did when I first came of age, the best markets to concentrate in. I have some experience
taking a small amount of money and investing it wisely.”

“You didn't have much money?” Banbury said, his curiosity obviously reluctant.

Daniel shook his head. “An allowance. My father may have been famous, and my mother will never want because of that, but for now the money is hers. And there's the duke, of course, but you know where the bulk of his estate will go.”

“But you're his heir.”

“Only until he has his own child. Poor fellow has to marry.”

Banbury nodded, still looking so intently at Daniel.

“Are you offering to tutor me?” Banbury finally asked.

Daniel met his gaze. “I suppose so.”

“Then I'll take you up on your offer.”

His voice was neutral, controlled, without betraying the surrender that Daniel knew he must be feeling.

“Good. I have an office at the Southern Railway. Meet me there tomorrow at two o'clock.”

Daniel handed his plate to a servant and left without a backward glance. He didn't think Banbury would gamble, at least not tonight.

 

Grace paced long into the night. If she didn't start getting a regular night's sleep, it was going to show in her complexion. But sleep continued to elude her as she thought over and over again about her conduct toward Daniel at the dinner party.

She must have been jealous.

What other explanation could there be?

He'd deliberately snubbed her, she knew, paying attention to another woman. And that was supposed to be all right with Grace; she wanted him to be a normal Society bachelor looking for the perfect wife.

But she couldn't understand why he'd ignored her—surely such a strategy wouldn't result in her seduction?

So she'd ignorantly fallen right into his plot; he'd wanted her to notice him, to be the one needing his attention, instead of his always pursuing her.

And she'd pursued him.

She'd touched him quite…scandalously, felt the long hard muscles of his thigh. Heavens, if anyone had seen what she'd been doing to him—

With a groan, she started wandering the darkened house. Every so often, she looked out the front windows but saw no one loitering across the street.

She opened the door to the master suite, but it was dark and empty. Exhausted, she went back to her room and fell onto the bed, not even bothering to crawl beneath the coverlet.

And that was how Daniel found her, on her back in slumber, her long braid trailing across the pillow.

He put an arm around her bedpost and just watched the rise and fall of her breasts, the way her nightgown fell in folds between her thighs.

He stepped close and whispered her name, but she didn't stir. He removed the tie from the end of her braid and spread her long brown hair out across the pillow. It was soft and luxurious, and he imagined it sliding across his skin.

Would she awaken if he touched her?

He ran his finger from her ankle to her knee, the only thing revealed from where she'd stirred in her nightgown. And although she twitched, she was too deeply asleep to respond.

And without her participation, he couldn't enjoy her. She wasn't just a body he had to possess. She was a spirit, a presence, and he wanted to look in her eyes when he aroused her. He wanted to know that at last, she could resist him no longer, and that she'd taken him with her own free will. He didn't need her trust; he only needed her passion.

So he wrote a note at her desk, left it on the bed table, and went to finish his nightly vigil in the master suite.