Page 21 of A Duke Makes a Deal
He tossed the paper back on the table, where Gavin quickly snatched it back up.
“It’s a crock and you know it,” Silas said, his voice strained. “You saw her at that card table. She wasn’t some shrill banshee. She was calm and collected. Furious too, as she had every right to be, but she wasn’t hysterical.” He nodded his head towards the paper in Gavin’s hand. “Dilworth must have paid for this article. Or perhaps his new fiancée footed the bill, knowing he doesn’t have two pence to rub together.”
“Perhaps the writer owed Dilworth a favor. Either way, it was a shame I couldn’t make it to that card game,” Gavin said, his eyes scanning the paper as he spoke. “I should have very much liked to witness Miss Woodvine’s speech.”
“Yes, why didn’t you make it?” Silas asked, ignoring Derek’s disgruntled face. “You never miss a Trembley ball.”
“I had to visit my uncle,” Gavin said, shaking his head as he looked down. “The old fool wanted me to attend some dreary house party this summer, but I informed him that I was going to be away.” He waved his hand in the air. “It doesn’t matter.”
Silas eyed Gavin for a moment, wondering if he was being vague on purpose when he turned to see Derek glaring.
“You told him what Miss Woodvine said?”
“He was going to find out anyway apparently,” Silas said, nodding to the newspaper. “That article is rubbish. You know as well as I Dilworth is to blame. This writer is compromised.”
“It doesn’t matter. This is now what everyone will see as the truth. What does it matter that a dozen or so people witnessedsomething else? Now hundreds of thousands of people have read what they will take to be the real story,” the earl said, shaking his head. “What are you going to do?”
Silas frowned.
“About what?”
“About all of it,” Derek said, gesturing to the paper. “Your honor is in question.”
“That is certainly true,” Gavin said, returning his attention to his map.
“My honor was signed away with my divorce, if you recall,” he said, exasperation boiling up. “I’ve no say of how people think of me, and I do not care.”
“That is certainly not true,” Gavin added.
“Don’t you have a boat to catch?” Silas snapped at Gavin.
“Not until the end of the month,” he answered, his white teeth flashing.
“So that’s it?” Derek asked. “Dilworth wins?”
“Wins what?” Silas asked honestly. “Some second-rate wife who will soon find out that the only reason the blackguard married her was because of her money? Why should I care about that?”
“You cared when Miss Woodvine was Dilworth’s victim.”
Silas stilled. Derek had him there. Hehadcared when Clara had been involved, but for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. The mention of her set Silas’s extremities tingling. The kiss they had shared had set his blood on fire and he had been hard pressed to remember a time when he had felt such need. He had thought of little else since then and now that it seemed she was in a bit of a public scandal, he had to beat down the masculine urge to come to her rescue.
“And see what trouble it’s brought me. Believe me, I will not repeat my mistake,” he said coolly. “Let these fools cry foul and be entertainment to the masses. I will not participate.”
It was Silas’s greatest aggravation to be written about, but he had learned the last time that the more he protested, the more the gossip came. He knew now that it was wisest to ignore such fodder.
Silas could feel both men watching him and while it aggravated him greatly, he remained quiet until Gavin spoke.
“A shame about poor Miss Woodvine. She’ll likely not have any peace now.”
A moment of silence followed before he spoke.
“Why not?” he asked in spite of himself.
“Well, she’s an heiress and a poor judge of character it seems.” Gavin shook his head as he leaned forward. He picked up a crystal glass, half full of amber liquid and took a sip before continuing. “She’ll likely be sought after by ever indebted man in England now that Dilworth doesn’t have a claim to her.”
“Her family should take her out of London then,” Derek said. That earned the earl a contemptuous glare from Silas. “She obviously doesn’t fit in to town life. She’d probably be better suited as the wife to some country squire or a vicar.”
“With her coin?” Gavin said, disbelieving. “Not likely. No, she’ll probably be married within the month to some poor, enterprising peer. He’ll find her, comfort her, tell her that she has been wronged—”
