The Art of Ruining a Rake (26 page)

Carson laid down the bit of mending she’d been working. Lucy stayed her lady’s maid with a raised hand. “Don’t trouble yourself. I need to stretch my legs.”

She opened the door to find another maid waiting patiently in the hallway. “Lord Darius Alexander to see you, Miss. I can tell him you’re not at home if you like.”

Lucy cheered at the opportunity for distraction. “Not at all. I’ll be but a moment.”

She entered the drawing room just as Lord Dare tossed his hat onto an empty chair and slid onto the couch. He opened his arms across the back squab and cocked his head curiously. “Are you expecting someone? You’re looking at the door as if someone else might walk through it at any moment.”

She looked back at him. “I thought Trestin might join us, that’s all. Perhaps I should send for him.”

“Why?” Dare leaned forward, his arms still outstretched. “Do I make you nervous?”

She’d been lying—she’d hoped to see his brother, not hers. But now that he’d asked, she did feel uneasy. He seemed more reckless than Roman. More overconfident.

But that was silly. Deep down, he must be the towheaded little boy she’d known as a girl, one who liked troublemaking and strawberry tarts.

“Not in the least,” she said, and glanced again at the door.

“Then you won’t mind that your brother stepped out. I saw him enter Gentleman Jackson’s not a half hour ago. I thought this would be the perfect time to catch you alone.”

She turned back to him. “You did?”

He grinned and indicated the empty cushion beside him. “Sit. Otherwise, I might think I’m being rude.”

“You
are
being rude.” She was beginning to become annoyed with him. How brash of him to call on her when her brother was away.

“Sit with me,” Dare commanded evenly. “There’s no harm in renewing an old acquaintance, is there? Surely, you’re not afraid.”

Of course she wasn’t afraid. She could handle herself. Didn’t she want to reside here without her brother peering over her shoulder every time a man came to call?

“What you fail to realize, my dear,” Dare said the moment Lucy’s weight settled into the cushion, “is that I’m no longer a lad. You, assuredly, are not a little girl.” Before she could respond to
that,
he somehow managed to relocate himself a full body’s width closer to her. “And you have something I want.”

She wouldn’t allow him to intimidate her. “I do?”
 

He seemed to slide even closer toward her, until his voice vibrated down the length of her body and their thighs touched from hip to knee. “There’s this business of the wager, you see. I very much need to win.”

Oh, the wager again. What silly rot. “Then you must be
charming,
Lord Darius. Those are the rules of the game.”

“Rules,” he mocked disdainfully. “I don’t play by rules.” He touched her cheek with the tip of his finger. “Pick me, Lucy.”

She jumped. Those whispered words…his nearness… Her mouth suddenly seemed dry. Dare’s masculine scent reminded her too much of Roman’s. His touch felt like Roman’s.

She shook herself. Logically, he smelled like his brother because their clothes were laundered together. He felt like Roman because they shared a similar build. They were both blond and blue-eyed. They had the same chiseled jaw and prominent, straight nose.

“Good girl,” Dare whispered. Gently, he rested his thumb on her chin and brought her lips toward his. “Good girl.”

She turned more forcefully into him, suddenly needing more from this man who smelled like Roman, who felt like Roman. Her hands searched out his lapels and she tugged him toward her, until his body collapsed over hers and his right hand caught on the arm of the sofa—

He tore away from her grasp. Pulled back so suddenly, her lips pursed toward air. She blinked in surprise.

“Blast it, Lucy! What are you
doing?”

She released his lapels. Heat spread across her as she squeezed her eyes closed. Dear gods, dear gods above, let her sink through this couch right
now
.

“Blast it all, Lucy!” he exclaimed again. “We can’t kiss like that. I’m not my
brother
.”

She could have died then and there. Dear Zeus.
Please.

A
whoosh,
then Dare was no longer hovering over her. She drew a few jagged breaths, then braved a peek at him from beneath lowered lashes.

He gave her a droll look. “You cannot possibly be that impassioned by me.”

She drew up hotly, incensed and embarrassed by his statement. “As if
you’re
innocent! I merely responded to your—your seduction!”

He turned halfway toward her, looking comically aghast. “My chaste little attempt at a peck was hardly
seduction
. I’d say it was going to be more like kissing my sister. Except you were obviously envisioning my brother. How’s that for vengeance?” He looked like he wanted to retch.

“Vengeance!” Now she was thoroughly confused.

Dare shivered as if truly repulsed. “It seemed the perfect plan. Charm you, irritate Montborne, win two thousand quid in the process. I had no idea you were so keen on him. You’re at least halfway in love with him, when he’s led us all to believe you’re just friends!”

In love with him? Oh, if only Dare hadn’t said
that
!
“We
are
friends!”

If she didn’t sound convincing, Dare didn’t seem to notice. And if she didn’t feel convincing, it was because she hadn’t forgotten what it had been like at Vauxhall, where Roman had swept her into his arms and stolen her very breath away with his kisses.

No, she supposed they weren’t
friends.

Lord Dare rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. His fists gripped his blond hair. He groaned, then shook his head. “You
have
to like me. I’m a dead man if I don’t win this wager.”

“What?” She couldn’t have heard him correctly. “It’s just a nonsensical game.”

He rubbed his eyes. “But it isn’t. They’re at Tattersalls choosing their studs. The pot is life or death for me, but to them it’s a new horse.” He laughed darkly. “If I
don’t come up with the ready, I’ll
be buried. No, actually, they’ll leave my body to rot.”

“Who will?” she said asked, her lack of understanding frustrating her.

“The bullies chasing me. I owe ten times the pot of this wager, but it’s more ready money than I’ll see in a month. I’ve put two hundred down in my own name. I
need
to win, Lucy. I certainly can’t afford to lose my ante.”

She didn’t think, but blurted out, “Then you shall have the money!”

She didn’t have time to withdraw her spontaneous offer before he leapt from the couch and beamed at her. “You’d do that for me? You’re a gem. Yes, tell everyone I’m the best. Today, if possible. I really, really need that blunt.”

“Well, I—” She clasped her hands in her lap and looked down. “I don’t know.”

“Just say the words, ‘Lord Darius is most charming. I select him as the winner.’
 
You can do it tonight at the theater. No one will expect it.”

“Yes, but…” It
felt
wrong. Especially after that ghastly mistake of a near kiss. When he’d said she loved Roman…

How could she choose anyone else?

Dare chucked her on the shoulder as he turned to leave, as if they were indeed siblings. “You’ll come around. Just remember you’re doing it for me. Your childhood chum.” He bowed to her, then wasted no time striding to the door. “I’ll see you tonight. Don’t forget! I can’t afford to lose.”

ROMAN SQUEAKED HIS finger against the polished surface of his desk. Pristine. Highly unusual for this time of year. Even a little disconcerting.

He forced his attention to the sheaf of papers piled at his elbow. Contracts and pricing information, mostly. A newspaper article he was supposed to read, but hadn’t yet.

The crisp ink on the topmost document reminded him he
ought
to be doing more than inspecting for dust. Trouble was, he didn’t know what. How the devil did Tony do it? Did he have some kind of natural ability Roman hadn’t been afforded?
 

Sometimes it seemed he wasn’t
meant
to understand these things.

With a sigh of resignation, he slid the first page into his line of sight. It was signed by Mr. Shaw, the chief engineer in Devon. Scrawled across the header Tony had written, “Suggest Immediate Approval.”

Roman spun the signet ring on his finger. Why did Tony even pretend to solicit his opinion?

The last lines were helpfully underscored by his brother:

A new plateway will enable movement between the quarry and the canal. However, its construction will delay the estimated completion date. More importantly, it will divert resources and funds. I await your decision.

Yours,

Mr. Shaw

Roman raised his pen. He dipped it into the inkwell and, at the bottom of the page, wrote
Approved
. Then, to feel as though he’d
done
something, he retrieved a pellet of signet wax. After liquefying the red bead over the fireplace, he poured a small amount onto the page. Having successfully managed to accomplish this much, he pulled off his signet ring and pressed it down. There, signed.

Tony walked into the library at that precise moment, despite the fact he was supposed to be in Devon. Oddly, he was the one who looked surprised to see Roman.

“I didn’t expect to find you here,” Tony said, stopping just inside the doorway.

Roman studied his signet for flecks of wax, then rubbed it against a rag stationed at his desk. “You’re keeping the mail coach in business, from what I can tell. I’ve hardly had a moment to myself all week.”

Tony laughed. “That’s why I’m here. Well, one of the reasons. These delays caused by the post are untenable. You should come home with me.”

Roman slipped the ring back onto his finger. “You sent me here.”

Tony entered the room. “I know. And you’ve done a fine job. Mr. Barton-Wright is the enthusiastic investor we needed, and the others are doing their part, too. But that’s just it. We don’t need more investors. You should come home so we can finalize the details. I encounter too many decisions that can only be approved by you.”

Roman tapped the underscored section of Mr. Shaw’s letter. “We have at least a few more weeks until the next step can occur. I see no reason to return to Devon now.”

Tony shrugged. “Then come in two weeks.”

That wasn’t the answer Roman wanted.

Tony turned on his heel. “The other reason I came is because we need a shift manager. Our agency has arranged interviews. I’d like you to come with me tomorrow, if you’re available.”

This time Roman didn’t try to conceal his pique. “In all this correspondence, you couldn’t have asked me to do this for you? It’s not as if I have so much responsibility I can’t afford an afternoon away.”

Tony’s look of confusion seemed genuine. “You just told me you’re shackled to your desk.”

Roman slammed his fist on said desk, narrowly missing the warm wax seal. “Signing things you’ve already approved!”

Tony looked genuinely perplexed, even a little hurt. “I’m only trying to help.”

Roman had never been good at feigning calm. “I
know
.”

“I want nothing more than for you to act like the head of this family.”

“Then trust me!” Roman exploded.

Awkward silence strained between them. At last, his brother shifted his feet. “Join me tomorrow. I’ll show you what it’s about.”

“I suppose.” The last place he wanted to be was hanging on Tony’s coattails, yet he couldn’t really go alone. He didn’t know the first thing about hiring a shift manager.

“What do you have left to read?” Tony asked. “I can summarize it. Then we can go to your club and imbibe a much-deserved whisky—or three.” A grin split his handsome face. “Premature to celebrate, but I never thought I’d see the day our family succeeded at anything.”

Perhaps Roman shouldn’t have felt resentful at that, but he did. It smacked of a left-handed compliment when what he craved was praise. Their family’s fortune was on the verge of turning. More than anyone else he wanted to feel pride in the accomplishment.