Authors: The Charmer
TheCharmer (3 page)
To have Ethan in your game was to experience the height of the manly art of gambling. He never stole estates from lordlings too young to know they were out of their league. He never targeted desperate men out to restore fallen fortunes. He was a most ethical, honorable cheat. Most importantly, one could never prove the fact.
Collis never, ever played opposite him.
But the dashing and handsome youth from Collis's past had become a jaded, world-weary man, though he was no older than Collis. Ethan's eyes were flat, his gestures mechanical as he toyed with the deck of cards.
"How are you these days, Damont?" Collis leaned forward. "Really."
Ethan didn't look at him. "Better than you."
Rebuffed, Collis sat back with a snort. "True. At least you still have both wings."
"That is I. Fully fledged and nowhere to fly."
The words were quiet, almost inaudible, but they rang in Collis's head like a bell. Nowhere for an intelligent, wily, adventurous fellow like Ethan to fly? Excitement twined through him. Oh, had his friend come to the right club!
Still, nothing could be done without clearing the notion through
And admittedly, it had not been very comfortable being with Ethan last night. His old friend's presence had brought back far too many memories. Recalling the boy he'd once been, the man he'd become for a while… until that day on the battlefield when the cannon fire had blasted him from his horse, breaking several ribs and shattering his left arm so badly it had nearly been declared hopeless and amputated.
If not for one very observant surgeon, who had seen that the pulse in Collis's left wrist was still strong and had ordered the arm set and left to heal on its own, he would indeed be without one wing.
But healed did not necessarily mean recovered, so his soldiering days were over almost as soon as they'd begun. No more war, no more battles, no more music—
Don't think about it. Think about this day, this work
It was worthy work, or would be as soon as he became a Liar in truth. He couldn't wait.
On the few missions he'd taken part in, he'd not been a real operative. He'd once helped James Cunnington attempt to locate an elusive prostitute named Fleur. Those had been interesting days, combing every place from the finest establishments, like Mrs. Blythe's elegant house of entertainment, to the lowest and filthiest corners of the stews—educational in itself, to be sure, but he'd only been along for the ride. He'd not even been told why they were searching for the girl.
Another time he'd donned the red vest of a Bow Street Runner to search for a traitor's daughter—but again, errands, not missions.
For now, Collis's mission was to graduate the Liar's Academy—and to enjoy provoking Rose, with her flashing eyes and snug breeches that showed entirely too much length of leg—
Rose turned just then and caught him looking. Collis blinked innocently under her questioning glare, until his grin turned to laughter. She was so much fun to rile.
He crossed the room to lean one hip against the wall near where she sat with her firearms class. "That was good work on the mat. You're going to be as good as me someday."
Rose sighed, then put down her pistol and cloth. She folded her arms, tucking her fingers beneath her rolled-up sleeves, and eyed him with raised brows. "Flirting again? It won't work, y'know. I'm immune."
He grinned at her, that easy smile that sent tiny shivers through her. "Flirting is so passé. I'm… beguiling."
She stiffened her spine against its traitorous tendency to melt. "Well, go beguile somewhere else. I'm busy."
"Oh, but I love to watch you work." He stepped closer. "You're so very… nimble-fingered." His voice went husky and his eyes seemed to go darker, from smoke to storm cloud. He moved a step closer, until her elbow was so close to his… um, hip… that she could feel the heat of his body on her bared arm. She ought to get up and move away. She ought to say something sharp, a rebuke for such ridiculous maneuverings.
Too bad her mouth was so dry.
She always could feel him near her, as if he were surrounded by a wall of heat that seeped through her clothing to warm her skin. For once, he seemed to feel it too. The teasing gleam in his eye faded, to be replaced by something darker and much, much more intense.
Breathing was becoming a problem. She parted her lips for more air to her lungs. His eyes flashed at that small, moist sound. Oh, God, she could fall into those cloudy-sky eyes forever—
A sound came from nearby, a not-so-subtle clearing of a raspy throat.
The spell over Rose popped like a soap bubble. She spun toward Kurt in relief. "Yes, sir?"
With a grunt, the trainer jerked his chin toward the dismembered pistol before her.
Rose blinked. Right. The pistol.
She picked up the pistol, refusing to notice how her hands had that tendency to shake again. She was immune to blarney-bleating toffs with more looks than honesty. Immune.
Completely.
And as soon as her body stopped quivering with unreleased heat, she was going to prove it.
Collis watched Rose handle the pistol, unable to take his gaze from her quick, skilled fingers. Her hands were actually quite elegant, despite the short, practical nails. She cleaned the barrel, her touch almost caressing as she stroked the cloth up and down.
He was quite sure he was choking. What would it feel like to have those hands on him, stroking him in just that skillful way?
Rose never fluttered her hands like some women he knew. Every movement she made had a purpose, with grace and economy combined. She had very sensible hands.
Collis found himself suddenly convinced that anything else was just plain silly on a woman. Who wanted a female who couldn't keep a grip on her own fan, for pity's sake? Who wanted to be touched with weak, flaccid fingers when he could be held fiercely tight by a woman who meant it?
Elegant, sensible hands.
How intriguing.
Through the opening into the hall, Collis caught a glimpse of the proprietor of the
Collis smiled and strode forward. Just the men he'd wanted to see.
When Rose returned from helping Kurt lock away the pistols and kit—she suspected Kurt of using any excuse to accustom her to handling cold iron—she found that Collis was still in the arena talking to Lord Etheridge and Sir Simon. Sir Simon Raines had been the spymaster of the Liars before Lord Etheridge and now ran the Academy with his wife, Agatha. With a nod, Sir Simon exited the room, leaving the Etheridge men in deep conversation.
Collis had only thrown a bit of toweling over one broad naked shoulder. He looked entirely delicious. Rose forced herself to look away. The fighting dummies were looking very smart this evening.
She looked back at Collis. Yes, still delicious.
Side by side, he and Lord Etheridge seemed more like brothers. Dalton Montmorency the elder, more sober brother, and Collis Tremayne the younger, more dashing one.
"Rotter," the young ladies of the aristocracy whispered of Collis Tremayne with fascinated longing. "Rake. Heartbreaker."
"Charmer."
There were, unfortunately, many opportunities to watch Collis in the act of charming any and every woman in his path. Even her.
The first time had been when he'd first joined the Liar's Club a few weeks after her own arrival. Rose shook her head, thinking of the diffident creature she'd been only months ago. He'd been standing by his uncle, much as he was now, who was showing him about the place. Collis had turned to her with a smile that had transformed her knees to water, and had beckoned her closer with one lazy finger.
She'd obeyed out of habit and out of the deepest enchantment she had ever experienced. His cloudy-day eyes twinkled warmly at her, and his smile spoke of sweet intimacies she'd only dreamed of. He was so fine and handsome, so elegantly rugged, so—
"Fetch me some tea, won't you, ducky?" He'd smiled that patented melt-away grin at her.
Icy comprehension had doused Rose's thrall in a moment. She'd stood frozen, too indignant to turn and walk away. She'd only been in the club for a few weeks, yet already she had begun to expect the treatment of an equal. The bloomin' gall!
Lord Etheridge had won her heart and loyalty forever when he'd frowned at his nephew. "Rose is not the help. She is a trainee-second grade." His lordship's lips had quirked. "One grade higher than yourself, actually."
The grin had drained from Collis Tremayne's handsome face. The moment had been sweet indeed. She'd dipped a saucy curtsey and walked away, leaving Collis Tremayne slack-jawed and quite without his tea.
Unfortunately, Collis had soon caught up with her in rank. She began so far behind, after all. Now with both Rose and Collis standing at trainee-first grade, they ran neck and neck to achieve full induction into the club.
Rose had never struggled so hard in her life, not even for the demanding Mr. Wadsworth. Collis, however, seemed to hardly need to work at all, except for hand-to-hand training. There she surpassed him, at least defensively.
No matter that her new spectacles had allowed her to advance quickly through the reading and writing courses that Milady Raines had created. No matter that she had excelled at both subject identification drawings and mapmaking. No matter that even Kurt had difficulty laying hand or blunted weapon on her in the arena. Collis was always there, coming up behind with ease and that lazy teasing smile.
Now, seeing Collis with his lordship, she hesitated. She'd hoped to get in a few more hours of practice with the weapons before bed, especially after her backsliding cower earlier. She hung back in the doorway, waiting for Collis to leave.
"He was here last night playing cards," Collis was saying to his uncle with sure urgency. "And winning. He lives not far from here, in High Street. He's the perfect recruit, I tell you. Imagine the places a professional gambler can go—the people he can associate with all over
The man Collis spoke of must have been spotted in the public rooms of the club, which actually stood on the opposite corner. The school was connected to it by a damp and unpleasant stretch of tunnel, so most trainees and Liars seemed to regard the two structures as one establishment.
Rose detested the tunnel. Give her a drafty old attic any day. Despite her freshly applied education, there were still a few cracks where her common upbringing showed. Underground was where bodies were buried. That was that.
Lord Etheridge noticed Rose hesitating in the doorway of the arena and beckoned her in. Collis was half turned away and didn't notice in his zeal.
"I've known Ethan Damont since school,
need
more men like him."
Etheridge nodded, obviously considering the matter. Then he smiled at Rose as she came closer. "What do you think, Miss Lacey?" He always addressed her as a lady. "Do you think I ought to consider a gambler for the club?"
Rose didn't think the idea sounded profitable at all. Even she knew who the Diamond was. The Voice of Society news column mentioned him regularly and with great relish. "I wonder if someone so public would be a good recruit, my lord. Milady Etheridge and Milady Raines are hoping you'll be bringing in more girls for training, like me. After all, a chambermaid can go right into a suspect's unmentionables drawer in the middle of the day with no questions asked."
"Hmm." Lord Etheridge tilted his head and cocked a brow at Collis. "When your gambler friend can do that, I'll recruit him." Then he turned away with an approving nod to Rose and left. Rose stared after him. Was his lordship
chuckling
?
Rose began to remove the shawl she'd donned earlier against the cellar dampness. She looked up from untying the knot in front to see Collis, still half-naked, still delectable, gazing at her with his arms folded over his gleaming chest.
"I can't suss you out, Briar Rose." Disappointment was plain in his voice. "Ethan Damont could be a true asset to the club. One would think you were afraid of some competition once I graduate."
"You graduate before me?" Rose lifted her chin and crossed her own arms. "That's amusing, considering that I was here first. And who sent me here?… Why, I believe it was his lordship!" She smiled sweetly. "I would think it all depended on whom one knows… except I didn't know him at all, did I?"
She hit the mark with that arrow, she knew. Collis was very sensitive about being "qualified" by no means other than nepotism.
There was no reason to think that, of course. Collis was everything the club needed—brilliant and brave. But challenge flashed in his gray eyes all the same. Oh, no. Now she'd done it.