One Rogue Too Many (2 page)

His grin returned. Damn, he couldn’t wait to be domesticated himself.

He spotted Lords Corby and Ledbery sitting away from everyone else with the betting book lying open on the table before them. Corby elbowed his companion and nodded in Anthony’s direction. Anthony scratched the back of his neck and looked away.

There was a reason the two men sat apart from everyone else. Corby and Ledbery were young, wealthy, and bored. No better combination for trouble existed. More than one gentleman of Anthony’s acquaintance believed the gents fed information to the gossip rags. He didn’t know if it was true, but one thing was certain—often when he had a problem, those two were involved.

Turning on his heel, he pretended not to see them and headed for the billiard room. The clack of balls knocking together greeted him as he entered. He grabbed a stick and claimed one of the crimson tables to practice, since everyone else was already in pairs.

Lining up his shot, he leaned over the table, his concentration keen. He drew back his cue, bumped into something, and sent the ball careening to the left.

“Bollocks,” he muttered.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder. “Bad luck that, Ellis.”

He gritted his teeth. “Corby.”

Ledbery circled the billiards table like a mongrel preparing to attack. Anthony moved to line up his next shot, hoping they would take their leave if he pretended they didn’t exist.

Corby plopped the betting book on the felt and tapped the page. “You’ll want to get in on this wager.”

“I’m not interested.” Anthony lined up the next shot. “Kindly remove the book.”

Corby scooped it up with a frown. “Aren’t you curious as to the terms?”

“No.” He slammed the cue stick into the ball. It dropped into the pocket.

“We’re taking bets on Lord Thorne’s wedding,” Ledbery said.

So Thorne had gotten caught in the parson’s noose. Anthony grinned. He wasn’t a betting man on most occasions, although Thorne—aptly named given he was a pain in Anthony’s side—had a way of goading him into taking the most ridiculous bets. He looked forward to a little friendly goading himself when they next crossed paths.

“What are you betting on?” Anthony drawled. “How many steps his bride takes down the aisle before she comes to her senses and runs?”

Ledbery scratched his head. “Yes, I suppose that
is
a scenario we hadn’t considered. It happened to his sister, only it was the groom to escape in the nick of time.”

Anthony waved him off. “No need to drag his family into this discussion. The lady was misused, and she didn’t deserve it.” He laid down the cue stick and retreated to a table along the wall. Pulling out a chair, he slumped into it. He knew he was going to regret this. “What is the bet?”

The men exchanged matching leers, and Anthony cursed his curiosity.

Corby slid the book in front of Anthony and sat. “We are betting on how long it’s going to take for Thorne to woo the lovely Lady Gabrielle.”

“Foxhaven’s sister?” Anthony snatched up the book. He blinked several times in case his eyes were fooling him then glared at Corby. “You said four days?”

“I think he’ll never win the lady’s heart,” Ledbery piped up.

Anthony thumped the table and pointed at him. “Never is the correct answer. This is balderdash. Lady Gabrielle Forest wouldn’t give Thorne the time of day.”

Corby smirked. “She allowed him to take her for a ride down Rotten Row today. They seemed cozy from my point of view. In fact…”

A loud buzzing in Anthony’s head drowned out the rest of the gent’s comment. What did Corby mean Gabby had gone for a ride with Thorne? She was engaged to Anthony. Even if nothing had been formally settled between them, she had given her promise.

“This is a mistake. You have the wrong lady in mind.”

Corby shook his head. “I know Lady Gabrielle when I see her. She stands out like an orchid among roses. Thorne’s a lucky gent.”

“No, he isn’t.” In fact, the baron’s luck had run out if any of this was true. It was one thing to steal the affections of Madame Beaudry—the prima donna had become too demanding for Anthony’s tastes anyway—but Gabby was another story.

Anthony sank against the seat back with a mild smile. Corby and Ledbery were trying to rile him. Thorne had no interest in courting a lady. “And what does one carriage ride prove?”

“It wasn’t the carriage ride as much as the dancing,” Ledbery said as he took up position beside his friend, his expression grim.

Corby nodded, his lips set in a thin line.

Perhaps they weren’t joking after all. He sat up straighter. “What dancing?”

“Thorne claimed the supper dance and a waltz at the Finchley ball last night, and he is sure to try the same at Lady Chattington’s tonight.”

Anthony slammed his palms against the table and surged to his feet. “The hell he will!”

The gentlemen exchanged a glance. Corby smiled slyly as he grabbed up the quill and began to scribble something in the book.

“What are you doing?” Anthony spotted his name scrawled across the page. “Stop writing at once. What do you think you’re doing?”

Corby passed the book to his companion and displayed every tooth in his head. “Welcome back, Ellis. London was dull with you away.”

“I’ll take this bet,” Ledbery said.

Devil’s bollocks!
There had to be some mistake. Gabby wouldn’t toss him over like that.

Spinning on his heel, he stormed toward the door.

“Where are you headed, Ellis? Don’t you want to take the bet?”

“I have yet to call on Lady Chattington since my arrival. I’m certain she will be pleased to see me.”

“Offer our regards to Lord Thorne.”

“Go to hell.”

***

If Lady Gabrielle Forest had learned anything in her twenty years on this earth, it was that her heart couldn’t be trusted. Her parents’ happy union had filled her head with silly nonsense.

There were no such things as perfect matches, true love, or destiny for everyone. And if by chance there were love matches for the undeserving, she had proven a poor judge of who that person was for her.
Twice.
She wouldn’t make the same mistake a third time.

Her only destiny involved a smart marriage to a decent fellow so her two younger sisters could finally have their coming out. Liz and Katie had been more than patient with her, but the delay had become a heavy burden to shoulder.

She suppressed a sigh. Here came her destiny now, his dark gaze focused on her. Gabby forced a smile, for no matter how certain she was that the handsome Baron Sebastian Thorne would make a suitable husband, she didn’t know whether she could accept a proposal if he offered one. Her heart still belonged to Anthony, even if she’d given up hope of him returning to claim her.

“Anthony,” she muttered. His name was a bitter taste upon her tongue.

Lord Thorne reached her, his grin dazzling. “It’s almost time to collect the waltz you promised.”

Her brother Drew took up position by her side with his arms crossed. “Not until the next set. Move along.”

Gabby shot him a scathing look then smiled politely at the baron. “How lovely to see you again, my lord. I can’t recall if I thanked you for the drive this afternoon.”

“You did, my lady, but I should be the one offering my gratitude. Your company was most pleasant.”

Drew grumbled something insulting under his breath about insincere popinjays, but she ignored him. Her brother was of a mind that she was a ninny for considering a rogue like Lord Thorne, but if she wanted his guidance, she would ask for it.

Her brother didn’t understand her decision to make a match based solely on a list of qualities she deemed important for a gentleman to possess. Drew believed the heart should guide these types of affairs, but Gabby had followed her heart in the past and it had gotten her in trouble. This time she would apply logic.
Reliability, steadfastness, frankness
. These were the traits she sought, and Lord Thorne had all three.

Besides,
he
was in London courting her while her betrothed had yet to return after months out of the country.

She faked a happy smile. A compliment for her suitor was on the tip of her tongue, but a slight commotion at the ballroom entrance distracted her. Her gaze locked on the new arrival as he ignored the footman’s protest that he wasn’t on the guest list. Her heart tumbled end over end.

Blast her heart! The dreadful thing always led her to trouble. And trouble’s name was Anthony Keaton.

His face lit as he spotted her and headed in her direction, but his step faltered and his eyes narrowed on Lord Thorne at her side. The baron was still speaking, his voice droning on and on, but she couldn’t hear a word he was saying. Her thoughts skittered around in her head like ants caught in rain.

Anthony was back. Her hands shook as elation coursed through her. She turned her back to him to gather her thoughts. Why hadn’t he returned at Easter as he’d promised? She’d heard nothing from him for months, and here he was as if he’d never left.

Her brother’s rigid stance shifted, and he grinned. She knew Anthony was approaching.

“Ellis, I didn’t expect to see you at the Chattingtons’ ballroom this evening,” Drew said.

“I only just arrived to Town.”

Gabby glanced at him, quickly assessing his dress. His coat was free of dust and his boots polished to a high shine, but he was inappropriately attired for a ball. She didn’t know how she had missed it upon his arrival. “Only arrived as in moments ago?” Her voice hitched slightly, betraying her hope he had come straightaway to see her.

“I returned a bit earlier,” Anthony said pleasantly.

She silently berated herself. Of course he hadn’t contacted her the moment he’d arrived in London. Those were the actions of a man in love, and nothing in Anthony’s behavior since the day of his proposal had suggested he loved her. Doubt crept into her thoughts again. During his absence, she’d begun to suspect he had asked for her hand out of duty that day rather than any sense of affection for her.

“I didn’t know I would be attending Lady Chattington’s ball until I had a chat with Lord Corby.”

Lord Thorne crossed his arms, the beginning of a smile making his lips twitch. He nodded to the far side of the ballroom. “There is our hostess now. Please, don’t allow us to deter you from a reunion with the lady.”

Anthony’s cool-as-winter eyes assessed the baron. “You’ve never deterred me from anything that matters, Thorne.”

The baron arched a brow, his dark gaze assuming a feverish gleam. “Is that so?”

“That it is.” Anthony squared off with him, mirroring Thorne’s challenging stance.

It was the oddest exchange she’d ever seen. She looked to Drew to translate.

Her brother rolled his eyes. “Behave yourselves, gents. My sister is here to dance, not watch you two peacocks arguing over who has the prettier tail feathers.”

Gabby’s face was suddenly too hot as her mind conjured an image of Anthony’s backside from the time she’d stumbled upon him swimming one summer. He winked as if he knew the path her thoughts traveled. Embarrassment consumed her.

Lord Thorne scowled. “When was the last time you were in the presence of a lady, Ellis? You have the manners of a goat. And you’re no better, Forest, with your talk of peacocks.”

Drew just shrugged, flashing his dimpled grin.

The baron bowed toward her. “Forgive us, Lady Gabrielle. I’m afraid all three of us have been absent from the ballroom long enough to forget how to behave like gentlemen.”

She took a deep breath to calm her jitteriness and smiled. “Apology accepted, my lord, and thank you. I look forward to seeing you again when the next set begins.”

The muscles at his jaw shifted and his returning smile was tight. Still, he bid her a gracious farewell then went to speak with another guest.

Anthony was watching her, his eyelids hovering at half-mast. When she was younger, she’d thought his eyes gave him a bored air, but she had once overheard a widow refer to them as bedchamber eyes. She hadn’t understood the reference until after their steamy encounter months earlier. An image of his mouth tenderly at her breast set her body afire again.

She cleared her throat. “Was your journey pleasant, Lord Ellis?”

“I accomplished my aims.”

“Oh? And what aims would those be?”

A hardness set in his jaw. “Do you really look forward to dancing with that scoundrel?”

Drew nudged her with his elbow. “See? You won’t listen to me, so listen to Ellis.” He turned toward Anthony, likely pleased to have found an ally. “I don’t care for Thorne sniffing around Gabby’s skirts.”

“Neither do I.” Anthony had an edge to his tone. “How long has he been bothering her?”

They were speaking around her as if she had no say in the matter. “I’m not bothered.”

Drew ignored her. “He danced with her last week, then sent flowers thanking her the next day. Every day since, he has been underfoot. I don’t know his aims, but you can bet his intentions are not honorable.”

Her hands landed on her hips. “Really, Drew. You know nothing about the man or his intentions.”

“But I do,” Anthony said. “I’m well acquainted with Sebastian Thorne, and he is not honorable. It shouldn’t take much to shoo him away.”

“Now wait one moment—”

“Splendid.” Drew clapped Anthony on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you back in Town. Lana and I would be pleased if you joined us for dinner this week.”

“My pleasure.”

Insufferable
oafs!
This was just like when they were children. Drew and Anthony would join alliances and tell her what to do. Well, she was no longer a child.

“I have something to say.”

Drew chucked her on the chin. “Later, princess. I’ve finally spotted Lana. You’ll be in good hands with Ellis while I dance with my wife.”

Her brother sauntered off without waiting to see if she consented to being left in Anthony’s care. She stared daggers at his back before swinging toward Anthony, daring him to try to run roughshod over her now.

He offered an enigmatic smile in return. The air crackled with awkwardness as silence dragged on. He had never been one to engage in polite chitchat, but after four months apart, did he have nothing to say? Frustration brewed in her chest, the pressure building inside her.