Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel) (7 page)

Good for her. At least she knew a
devil disguised in gentlemen’s clothing. Alex narrowed his eyes as he studied
Mallorian. What was that weasel up to? Alex swept his gaze over the gathered
party. Sally stood beside a woman whose pale, drawn face did not bode well for
whatever transpired. He recognized the woman as Lady Davenport, the Duke of
Kingsley’s sister-in-law. That answered the mystery of who the older man was.

Alex moved close.

“What are you doing?” Sutherland fell
into step beside him. “Do you see your sister?”

“No, but there’s Lady Gillian.”

“You said she was passably pretty.
She’s gorgeous,” Sutherland accused.

Sutherland was right. She was
beautiful, even more so when angry, and there was no doubt the lady was livid.
She shook her dark head at her father, anger visible in her rigid shoulders,
jutted chin and deeply pinked skin. Mallorian, on the other hand, appeared
smug.
Too smug
. “What do you think Mallorian is up to?”

“Maybe he’s trying to buy something
else out of his reach,” Sutherland quipped.

Sutherland was jesting, but there
could be some truth in the matter. And while he hoped the lady failed in her
plan to hoodwink Sutherland into marriage, that didn’t mean he wanted to see
her thrown to the sharks. Or shark, as it were.

Someone latched on to Alex’s arm,
breaking his focus on the scene. He glanced to the left. “Lissie.” He drew his
sister close to him.

“Alex! Thank goodness. I cannot find
Mother and Father in the chaos.”

Her white face alarmed him. “Are you
unwell, Lissie?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Just
overly hot.”

“Then let’s go on the terrace.”

“No!” Lissie reared back out of his
reach, her brown-eyed gaze widening. “I have to hear the announcement.”

“Why do you care what the Duke of
Kingsley is going to announce?”

“I…I don’t
care
.” Lissie bit
her lip. “I simply would be up on the latest news as everyone else.”

Her twitching upper lip gave her lie
away. Alex studied his sister. She had never lied to him, as far as he knew,
but he did not doubt she was lying now. “Lissie—”

A bell rang from the front and the
crowd fell silent.

The Duke of Kingsley stepped forward
and grasped Lady Gillian by the arm, drawing her near.

As Mallorian stepped to her side,
Lissie inhaled sharply. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask his sister what
was the matter, but tearing his gaze away from Lady Gillian proved impossible.
The color drained from her face. Her gaze darted, searched. For what? An
escape?

Kingsley raised a glass. “It’s my
pleasure to announce the betrothal of my daughter to Mr. Harrison Mallorian.”

Lady Gillian took the glass proffered
to her with a trembling hand. Alex turned away from the spectacle and glanced
at Sutherland. “Well, I suppose the lady has been outwitted by her father.” He
clasped Sutherland on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, my friend, the
ton
is
full of hundreds of beautiful debutantes who will want to marry you.” He
swallowed, his mouth suddenly filled with a bitter taste.

“Now, Lissie―” Where the devil?
He glanced around them. What was wrong with that girl? “Where’d she go?” he
grumbled more to himself than Sutherland.

“Your sister fled when they announced
the betrothal.”

“Odd of her to disappear like that.”

Sutherland shrugged. “No stranger
than you staring at Lady Gillian during the entire announcement and not
noticing your sister fleeing from your side.”

Alex sighed. Rising to his full
height, he scanned the crowd once more but still did not see his sister.
Blasted
unreasonable women
. He’d hoped that with her odd behavior she might be
agreeable to go. Now he had no choice but to stay among this rabble until he
found her. Maybe even then she’d want to stay for hours. “Damn,” he muttered
under his breath as he motioned to Sutherland to help begin the search.

Alex couldn’t understand why he still
felt so tense. His sister had been found and safely sent home with their
parents after begging a headache. His chaperone duties were over for the night.
He had a full glass of whiskey in front of him, and he was with his friend and
brother, yet his shoulders bunched with tension.

And he couldn’t get his bloody mind
on the bloody
Vingt-et-un
game. Something was bothering his sister, and
he intended to get to the bottom of her problem tomorrow.
Headache his arse
.
Her eye had twitched with her second lie of the night.

After a moment’s contemplation he
knew what was bothering him, other than his sister, he just didn’t know why.
Lady Gillian had clearly not wished to become someone’s soon-to-be bride
tonight. But why the hell should that be on his mind? The woman was not his
concern.

He shifted in his seat but still
could not get comfortable. He had to get out of this place. White’s hummed with
an excited undercurrent he normally thrived on, yet tonight the buzz of
business, drink and bets annoyed him. He needed a woman’s soft touch to make
him forget the tart-tongued Lady Gillian. Of course, he had no mistress now
since he’d had to break things off with Bess. And he was not in the mood to try
out a new woman tonight. These things took time and careful consideration.

“Lionhurst? Have you heard a word we
said?” Sutherland demanded.

Alex glanced up. He was only just
aware he had been staring mindlessly at the crowd of men gathered around the
betting book at the front of White’s. His brother and Sutherland watched him,
no doubt expecting an answer.

“Not a word. Sorry.” He picked up his
drink and drained the liquid with one gulp before setting the glass down. The
last thing he was prepared to do was spill what was on his mind. “The ball drained
my ability to think clearly,” he said as way of explanation since they appeared
to still want one.

Cameron chuckled. “That sounds
exactly like something Robert would have said.”

Alex twitched at the mention of their
dead older brother. He stared at Cameron in stony silence, until color flooded
his brother’s face.
Good
. His brother needed to be reminded of a few
things. Alex leaned forward. “I will never be Robert. I never could be, even if
I wanted to.”

“Thank God,” Cameron mumbled. “But I
didn’t mean to imply that.”

“Whatever you meant, if you want me
to take you seriously about buying into the company with Sutherland and me, then
don’t ever compare me to Robert.”

Cameron leaned back in his chair, his
embarrassment replaced with a frown. “Forgive me. I wrongfully thought the
subject less prickly for you. Consider the matter dropped.”

“Perfect.” Alex forced a smile. His
polite façade wasn’t quite where it needed to be tonight. And getting it there
seemed impossible. His face twitched with the effort to appear bored.

Damn Cameron for mentioning Robert.
Keeping the demons away was easy as long as he didn’t think of his older
brother. Melancholy seeped over him. He was a betrayer. Whether he thought
about it or not, the fact remained the same.

He grasped Cameron’s full whiskey
glass and chugged the liquid down to wash away the sour taste filling his
mouth.

Cameron didn’t say a word. His eyes
expressed concern, but after a second his gaze slid away from Alex. He turned
to Sutherland and asked him something Alex could not hear.

Alex signaled the waiter, got a
refill of whiskey and swirled the honey-colored liquid around his glass. He’d never
settle into being the marquess. It was hopeless. For everyone. Father was
disappointed. Mother. No sense going through the whole bloody list.

At a commotion behind him, he glanced
back toward the betting book, eager to turn his thoughts. “Do either of you know
what the great interest in the books is tonight?”

Sutherland and Cameron exchanged a
look.
What was this about
? “It’s unusual for either of you to be mute on
any subject.”

Sutherland stilled with his glass to
his lips, then slowly put it down. “There’s a new bet on the books.”

“You don’t say. Well, from the way
you two are gaping at me, I assume my good name, or lack thereof, is somehow
the object of the bet.”

Cameron grinned. “You’re rather
smart, old man.”

“What is it now? Did I ravish a
virgin? Split up a perfectly happy marriage?” It always amazed him the tales
people concocted. If he’d done half the things he’d been given credit for he’d
be dead from exhaustion.

Sutherland leaned toward him. “Personally,
I put my money on you, but then I don’t know this woman Lady Staunton, so I may
be on the verge of losing a good deal.”

Alex narrowed his eyes to control the
twitch of anger. “You’d better give me all the details so I can ensure you keep
your blunt.”

Cameron scooted his chair closer. “I’ll
give you the details. It’s the least I can do as your brother.”

“Your concern warms my heart.” A
twitch in the side of his jaw joined the one in his right eye. This night was
never ending. “Get on with it,” he bit out.

“It seems Primwitty placed a bet
against Randall and Franklin yesterday. They say you and Lady Staunton will be
embroiled in an affair by the end of the season. Primwitty, smart chap that he
is, bet against them in your favor.”

Irritation washed over Alex. Was he
not to find any peace tonight? He raised his glass and motioned toward the same
servant who had just served him. The man appeared at the table and poured him another
shot of liquor. Alex tapped the glass. “More.”

“That’s a lot of liquor,” Cameron
said.

Alex eyed his brother. “If you had my
memories you’d need just exactly this much,” he snapped and downed the liquid.
He didn’t bother to say that no amount of liquor wiped away the memories of
Lady Staunton and Robert. But the whiskey did take the edge off when the
memories were at their worst, and tonight was one of those nights.

“I’ll need to thank Peter later for
taking up my cause.”

“It wasn’t Primwitty,” Cameron said. “It
was Sally. Primwitty told me he placed the bet in your favor for her. She’s
your champion. Primwitty thought it would be better to ignore the matter, turn
a blind eye, but Sally insisted your honor had to be defended.”

Alex laughed at the news that his
champion was none other than the petite blonde duchess. He could see her, now
rosy with anger, blue eyes flashing and pushing her husband, Alex’s dearest and
oldest friend, out the door to play the defender. “Sally’s daft. I don’t give a
damn about my honor. People will believe the worst no matter what.” And the way
Lady Staunton had been chasing him around despite her ill husband’s presence
was bound to make tongues wag.

Alex swirled the
remaining liquor in his glass before setting the glass down. He’d had his
limit, and he knew better than to have any more.

“Interesting that
Lady Staunton has set her cap on you again,” Cameron said.

“Not really. She knows I’ll be duke
someday.”

Cameron’s face relaxed visibly.

“Were you worried for me, little
brother?” Alex asked with a laugh.

“She is beautiful.”

“And vile,” Alex retorted. “Don’t
worry. Besides, Father will probably outlive us all.”

“That’s not what Catherine says.”

“What has our dear sister been saying
now?” Alex jerked his hands through his hair at the reminder of the duty he’d
left untended. He had to get to Sheffield soon and speak to Catherine’s husband
about her constant gossiping and need for drama. He would stop in on his way to
the hunt in Yorkshire. “Why isn’t Forrester controlling her tongue?”

“You know as well as I Catherine
cannot be controlled. She’s taken it into her head Father’s going to drink
himself to an early grave, and she’s apparently been lamenting about it all
over Sheffield.”

“Well that explains
Lady Staunton’s renewed interest in me.” Alex glanced away from Cameron and
toward the front door. He wanted to get out of here and forget everything, just
for an hour. Catherine was right to worry about Father―he had been
drinking too much. But he’d been doing it since the day Robert had killed
himself and the old codger appeared none worse for the liquor.

The front door to White’s slammed
open, and Alex’s friend Dansby loomed in the doorway. Alex raised his hand to
wave him over. Judging by the way Dansby shoved through the crowd of men around
the books and strode toward Alex, the visit must be urgent. He stood to greet
Dansby.

“What brings you out at this late
hour?”

“Your father sent me to find you and
your brother.”

Alex’s gut clenched. His father never
involved anyone in family affairs. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s your sister, Allysia.”

“Damnation.” He grabbed his coat and
jerked it on. “I knew something was wrong with her. Is she ill?”

Dansby shook his head.

“Well, what is it?”

Dansby’s gaze shot to Cameron and
then Sutherland.

“Spit it out,” Alex demanded, barely
containing his temper.

“She’s dead.”

* * * * *

“I wish I were dead!” Gillian fell
backward onto her bed. She pulled the covers up over her head and stared into
the darkness.

“Gillie, don’t say such a thing, even
in jest.” Whitney plopped onto the bed and tugged the covers away from
Gillian’s face. “You know I couldn’t get on without you. I’ve every confidence
you’ll manage to avoid marrying Mr. Mallorian.”

Gillian struggled into a sitting
position at the note of desperation in Whitney’s voice. Whit needed her. “Don’t
fret, Whit. I’m just allowing myself a moment of pity that Father wants to rid
himself of me so badly that he would betroth me to Mr. Mallorian.”

Whitney shook her head. “Father loves
you. He just…” Whitney gave Gillian a pleading look. “You know Father. He
doesn’t think things through when he’s imbibed too much.”

Gillian pressed her lips together on
her retort. Father
had
thought things through, and that was the point,
but Whitney needed to cling to her hope that Father adored them both. There was
no point in trying to make Whit see the truth now when they were hopefully
escaping soon.

A shudder ran through Gillian as she
pictured herself posed for a Westonburt family portrait flanked by Lady
Westonburt and Mr. Mallorian. The idea of Lady Westonburt being her
mother-in-law was enough to make her ill, without even bringing the woman’s son
into the picture. As usual, Gillian got that funny creeping sensation over her
skin when she thought of the baroness. When they happened to cross paths in
church, the woman always looked at her as if she knew Gillian’s secret. Lately,
it had gotten worse. Lady Westonburt’s sly stares had become scathing, direct
looks. It was impossible the woman could know anything.
Completely
impossible
. Even still, Gillian breathed deeply to calm her jangled nerves.

Whitney propped herself onto her
elbows and kicked off her shoes. “I saw Lady Westonburt in Town yesterday when
I was purchasing ribbon. She gave me the evil eye and turned away. She didn’t
even acknowledge when I said hello to her. Isn’t that funny? She had to have
known you were becoming her daughter-in-law. Why would she act so odd?”

“I don’t know, Whit, but just try to
avoid her if I’m not with you.”

“Gillie, you cannot play mother to me
forever. At some point, you have to let me take care of myself.”

Gillian rested her hands underneath
her chin. “Don’t worry. The minute our feet hit American soil, you won’t have
me hovering over you anymore.”

Whitney screwed up her face. “I don’t
understand your fascination with America. Do you really fancy yourself in love
with Mr. Sutherland?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure I will be.
He’s perfect for me.”