The Danger of Desire (45 page)

McAlden perused the crowd. “Shall we pick now? I warn you, Del, this isn’t London. There’s plenty of virtue to be had in Dartmouth.”

“Why not?” Del felt his mouth curve into a lazy smile. The town may have been full of virtue, but he was full of vice. He cared about only one particular woman’s virtue.

“You’ll want to be careful. Singularly difficult things, women,” McAlden offered philosophically. “Can turn a man inside out. Just look at Marlowe.”

Del shrugged. “Captain Marlowe married. I do not have anything approaching marriage in mind.”

“So you’re going to seduce and ruin an innocent without being named or caught? That
is
bloody-minded.”

“I didn’t say innocent. I said untried. In this case, there is a particular difference.” He looked across the room at Celia Burke again. At the virtuous, innocent face she presented to the world. He would strip away that mask until everyone could see the ugly truth behind her immaculately polished, social veneer.

McAlden followed the line of his gaze. “You can’t mean—That’s Celia Burke!” All trace of jaded amusement disappeared from McAlden’s voice. “Jesus, Del, have you completely lost your mind? As well as all moral scruples?”

“Gone squeamish?” Del tossed back the last of his drink. “That’s not like you.”

“I
know
her. Everyone in Dartmouth knows her. She is Marlowe’s wife’s most particular friend. You can’t go about ruining—
ruining
for God’s sake—innocent young women like her. Even
I
know that.”

“I said she’s
not
innocent.”

“Then you must’ve misjudged her. She’s not fair game, Del. Pick someone else. Someone I don’t know.” McAlden’s voice was growing thick.

“No.” Darling kept his own voice flat.

McAlden’s astonished countenance turned back to look at Miss Burke, half a room away, smiling sweetly in conversation with another young woman. He swore colorfully under his breath. “That’s not just bloody-minded, that’s suicidal. She’s got parents, Del. Attentive parents. Take a good hard look at her mama, Lady Caroline Burke. She’s nothing less than the daughter of a duke, and is to all accounts a complete gorgon in her own right. They say she eats fortune hunters, not to mention an assortment of libertines like you, for breakfast. What’s more, Miss Burke is a relation of the Marquess of Wid-combe, in whose ballroom you are currently
not dancing
. This isn’t London. You are a guest here. My guest, and therefore Marlowe’s guest. One misstep like that and they’ll have your head. Or, more likely, your ballocks. And quite rightly. Pick someone else for your challenge.”

“No.”

“Delacorte.”

“Bugger off, Hugh.”

McAlden knew Del well enough to hear the implacable finality in his tone. Hugh shook his head slowly. “God’s balls, Del. I didn’t think I’d regret so quickly having you to stay.” He ran his hand through his short, cropped hair and looked at Del with a dawning of realization. “Christ. You’d already made up your mind before you came here, hadn’t you? You came for her.”

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