Ruined by Moonlight (7 page)

A day and a half, he reflected with savage vehemence. Her parents were not the only ones who would be concerned. “I have a meeting with the prime minister this morning,” he said more tautly than he intended. “One
does not skip that particular appointment without the courtesy of a note. My absence will also be remarked.”

“Then people will be looking for us.”

Then people will be talking about us
. He was more realistic, more versed in how society worked.

“I suspect they already are.” Though he was allowed to live his own life, whatever could be said of his personal activities, he didn’t shirk his responsibilities by disappearing whenever he wished. Maybe his family would wait tolerantly a day or two but they would soon realize something was wrong.

As for looking for them…where the hell were they?

He had the feeling their captor was too clever for an easy rescue, unless it was a deliberate attempt to have them discovered half-dressed in bed together.

Unfortunately, even in the gloom she seemed to sense the reserve in his tone. “But you have no faith that it will do any good, do you?” Elena’s mouth might have trembled. It was hard to tell.

At least she was intelligent as well as beautiful. Honestly, he stated, “As I have no idea where we are, I can’t answer that question.”

“So all we can do is wait?”

He rubbed the stubble on his jaw and then shook his head. “Rest assured I have been thinking about this and if a solution comes to me, you will be the first person I share it with, my lady.”

Her spirited reply surprised him. “And I vow the same, Lord Andrews. If
I
arrive at a viable plan first,
I
will share it with you.”

Elena leaned forward in concentration, brushing the curtain of her hair back when it obscured her view of the
table. The dappled light colored the faces of the upturned cards and she considered them, mentally counting, and then smiled triumphantly. “You should concede the game, my lord.”

The man lounging across from her lifted his ebony brows. With his glossy dark hair and the shadow of a beard, he looked rather like a romantic pirate, just slightly dissolute and a touch dangerous. This time, with the hot water delivered after breakfast, they each had been given a robe, much to her relief. His dressing gown was black silk and enhanced the rakish persona that was so well-known, his masculinity flagrant and distracting.

She was very much—to her dismay—coming to realize just what it meant to be locked in a room with him for any length of time. There had also been a pack of cards on the tray next to the scones, some writing paper, and an inkwell and pen. It didn’t bode well for an expeditious release. It seemed more a ploy to help them pass the time.

He told her, “You should never warn your opponent but instead raise the stakes. If he or she hasn’t been paying very careful attention, that challenge will be accepted and then your winnings are increased.”

“I see.” Elena laid down her cards so he could see them. “But in our case we are not wagering anything, but just keeping score of how many games we each win.”

“True.” His answering smile was wickedly attractive. “However, there is much more to the strategy of playing card games than the hand you receive by chance. It looks like we will have the time for me to teach you all I know.”

All I know
.

It was an unfortunate choice of words and she had the impression that even the sophisticated Lord Andrews
regretted putting it quite that way. It was made all the worse when Elena, who could feel her blush, murmured, “I am sure you are quite accomplished.”

Oh, dear
.

“I certainly hope so.” The uncharacteristic disconcerted look on his face was replaced with amusement almost at once. “I have practiced quite often.”

“I feel certain that’s true.” Elena glanced down self-consciously to make sure her own robe, a pale blue silk, was still decently covering all it should.

He simply laughed, his gaze touching on where she more firmly knotted the sash at her waist before it returned to her face. “Your name…it’s unusual for an English lady.”

“My mother is half-Castilian. It was her mother’s name.”

“Elegant Elena,” he murmured.

She made a face. “I have to admit the propensity of the
ton
to give silly nicknames is something I find irritating.”

“I couldn’t agree more. The Raven isn’t precisely flattering when you think about it. Being likened to a bird who is primarily a scavenger is hardly a compliment.”

“I think they are more referring to the color of your hair, my lord. It is very dark.”

And deliciously thick.
The wayward thought invaded her mind. At the moment a curling ebony strand fell over his brow, giving him a boyish look that was hardly in keeping with his formidable reputation. She wondered what it would feel like to touch those ebony strands, to run her fingers through it…Would it be warm? Or like cool silk…

“Is it?” His tone held a subtle silky texture of its own.

With each passing moment, even in her inexperience she was beginning to understand more and more how all those women ended up in his bed. His charm was no doubt deliberate but it wasn’t deceptive. He had a sense of humor even in their less than perfect circumstances, and, yes, perhaps a certain innate arrogance, but at such short acquaintance she’d already discovered it was tempered by intelligence. While he was certainly aware of his good looks—by all accounts women had been throwing themselves into his arms for the past decade—Elena doubted he was vain. He might be cognizant of his attractiveness but wasn’t like the other handsome fops she knew at all.

“Extremely dark,” she said with a slight lift of her chin. “Surely you’ve glanced in a looking glass a time or two.”

“Your father’s estate is in Berkshire, is it not?”

She blinked at the change in subject. It wasn’t surprising he’d know, for London’s elite society was a limited circle. “Yes.”

“Do you prefer the country to the city?”

Was his interest genuine? The better question, she decided a moment later, was, what did it matter if sincerity was the motivation? They had nothing better to do but talk and play cards, and the inquiring look in his eyes was compelling.

“It is hard to say,” she answered, considering it. “They are quite different. Back at Whitbridge Manor the pace is slow and the servants more like friends than just people my father employs. On the other side of it, London is much more exciting. I have spent most of my life anticipating my debut.”

What she didn’t add was that the endless rounds of
balls and teas and tedious luncheons bored her more than anything else, but she simply had no choice. Her recent engagement had been more a compromise than a coup as far as she was concerned, but at least it kept her mother from dragging her to every single event.

Engagement.
Odd; up until now, she hadn’t thought about how Lord Colbert would react to her sudden unexplained absence. She really didn’t know him well enough to guess either, which was a disconcerting revelation. He was suitable and her father had been delighted when he’d proposed, so Elena had acquiesced. In a world where so many marriages were business arrangements, at least she’d had some measure of choice and her future husband was both pleasant and nice-looking.

“Siblings?” Lord Andrews was saying. “I’m afraid your father and I are mere acquaintances so I do not know too much about your family.”

Her father, if she had to guess, hardly approved of the licentious viscount. He wasn’t a puritan, but even she would concede he was a bit on the lofty side and a man with a reputation as notorious as the viscount’s would not meet with his approval. She hadn’t lied when she’d said that Randolph Raine was not someone whom she’d choose as a husband. Her father would not be pleased in the least.

Obligingly, she told him, “Two younger brothers. Edgar, the heir, is only fifteen.”

“I have a sister just a year older than your brother. I am her guardian.”

For whatever reason she found that incongruous. The disreputable Andrews was the guardian of a charge he must launch into society in just a few years? As diplomatically as possible she murmured, “I didn’t know, but,
then again, though people do talk about you, they don’t mention those sorts of details.”

His mouth twisted a little. “I can only imagine what kind they do mention.”

“Actually, not too much in front of me, but it is easy enough to get the gist of it.”

“Wicked is as wicked does. Is that it?”

She didn’t flinch from looking him in the eye. “Just about right, my lord.”

“Some of it might even be true. How is,” he said with idle inflection, “the season so far?”

How come she got the impression that question wasn’t idle at all? And yet the switch in topic was welcome. “I’m engaged.”

“I thought I saw the announcement recently. Colbert, is it? We’ve crossed paths but we really are not well acquainted. Tell me about him.”

The jeweled light through the windows gave sapphire tints to his dark hair and slanted a ruby streak across one lean cheek, touching the corner of his mouth. Cautiously she asked, “Could you be more specific?”

“I am still trying to make sense of this.”

“How could Lord—”

“Indulge me. What can it hurt? As I said, we have nothing but time.”

That seemed to be unfortunate but true.

Elena regarded him thoughtfully. “You still believe this is directed somehow at me.”

He shrugged, broad shoulders moving under the black silk. “As I said, I don’t know, but we both must admit that someone has gone through a great deal of trouble. For instance, that whiskey”—he pointed to a decanter that had been brought with their luncheon—“is
actually rather hard to obtain and a particular favorite of mine. It isn’t a secret, but, also not necessarily common knowledge. Why would our captor bother when I have been deemed replaceable and threatened with bodily harm?”

“I don’t know.” When she remembered the man with the pistol pointed straight at Andrews’s heart, she could hardly disagree. Casting back, she tried to recall anything she could that might be related to their current incomprehensible state of imprisonment. “The season has seemed rather uneventful, if you ask me. I’ve had suitors whom I would deem truly serious in that they seemed more determined than the others, but quite a few eligible gentlemen have sent flowers and called. It happens every day. Lord Colbert had the advantage of my father’s approval. We’ve only just become affianced, and, in truth, I can’t tell you anything remarkable about him. He’s very…pleasant.”

How inadequate it sounded when put that way.

Lord Andrews didn’t comment but something flickered in his eyes. “Can you think of anyone who might resent your choosing him?”

“Another suitor? As you’ve mentioned before, would they lock me in with you as retaliation?”

If the tart tone of her voice bothered him, he didn’t show it. “A valid point, but perhaps if there was another young lady angling for Colbert’s title and fortune, there might be an interest in removing you from the fray, as it were.”

She hadn’t thought of that, but there were flaws in the theory. “Please explain to me,” Elena said with all due practicality, “how a young woman my age could possibly orchestrate something so elaborate and costly. I certainly
couldn’t. My allowance doesn’t include funds for rare whiskey or armed guards.”

“What about one of the ambitious mothers that usually make me run in the other direction when in their company?”

That hadn’t occurred to her either, but neither did she subscribe to the possibility that she was the focus of this absurd abduction. Slowly she shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone who is a rival in the sense you mean.”

“It might not have been obvious. But jealousy is a powerful emotion.”

Elena considered him with a hint of wry humor. “Are trying to tell me you’ve experienced it firsthand? I somehow assumed that as London’s premier rake, constancy was not your preference; therefore jealousy would be pointless.”

“We are not now discussing my personal preferences,” he countered mildly. “I am speaking as a man who has a title and enough wealth to have been the quarry of more than a few scheming matrons eager to gain an aristocratic husband for their insipid daughters.”

No doubt he was right, for while his reputation might cause some pause, he was still undeniably a coup in the marriage mart. That is, if he had the slightest inclination to choose a wife.

A certain part of her was envious, actually. She was betrothed to a man not necessarily of her choosing but who pleased her parents and could provide well for her and their children.

The patently unfair restrictions against her gender were frustrating, but not limited to the rich and aristocratic either. “How very vexing for you,” she said coolly.

“Ah, the haughty tone indicates disapproval, I assume.
You play the outraged lady very well. Yes, I find it uncomfortable to be coveted for my money and position. That is why I much prefer my relationships to involve nothing but physical satisfaction for both parties.”

He said it matter-of-factly and she believed the detachment to be sincere. It was somewhat startling. “Is that why you don’t wish to marry? Are you afraid when a woman shows interest it might be mercenary?”

Apparently he wasn’t interested in answering questions about his personal life. Instead he changed the course of the conversation again. “My sister and aunt are in the country so they won’t be alarmed yet, but my valet and my secretary will both know this is not my usual behavior. I suspect also our mutual absence will start to raise eyebrows, unless your father handled your sudden disappearance with the utmost discretion.”

Though he was sometimes a bit stuffy Elena knew her father would be beside himself with worry. “He would not wish a scandal and would do his best to avoid one.”

“I’m sure you’re correct, but, unfortunately,” the man sitting across from her said with grim conviction, “I don’t think that is going to be possible.”

T
he big roan thundered around the corner, still going easy, his neck wet and his breathing audible as he went by, but he wasn’t winded even though Gibbons had been pushing him and that was very encouraging indeed.