Page 10 of My Kind of Scoundel
He saw Aaron speaking to the glum Lord Deacon. The peer stood on shaky legs and almost swooned when Aaron gestured to the study across the hall—a formidable place where men signed away their souls to settle their debts.
Aaron caught Theo’s gaze and gave a nod of recognition. He warned Lord Deacon not to move a muscle before crossing the room. “Back so soon? I trust the evening went as planned.”
“Wrotham arrived with Mrs Dunwoody. Wiping the smug grin off his face brought immense satisfaction.” Not wishing to dredge up the ghosts of the past, Theo made no mention of Lucille Bowman. “I assume Deacon’s debts are mounting and you’re about to give him an ultimatum.”
Aaron glanced at the lord and muttered a curse. “Until Deacon’s affairs are in order, he’s barred from the club. Had I not intervened tonight, the fool would have staked his Mayfair abode on one game of whist.”
A sudden cheer at the Hazard table stole their attention. The Marquess of Rothley—a devilish gentleman in his own right—wrapped his arms around the mountain of coins and vowels on the table and gathered it to his chest like a beloved child.
Aaron called a footman to fetch a bottle of their best Burgundy and deliver it to the marquess’ table, then faced Theo. “Watch the croupiers while I have a private word with Deacon. I’ll not have these devils accuse us of cheating.”
“Is Christian not here?”
Their brother lived with his wife in Ludgate Hill and usually remained at the club until the last patron staggered over the threshold.
“He left half an hour ago. I can manage these profligates on my own. Most deserted the tables when Rothley announced he would empty everyone’s purse.”
“No doubt the marquess needs the funds. They say he keeps a harem at the aptly named Studland Park.” If anyone needed advice on how to embrace bachelorhood, they should ask the Marquess of Rothley. “Perhaps that’s how he gained the fresh scratch on his cheek.”
Suspicion lurked in Aaron’s dark eyes. “Rothley is hiding something at Studland Park, but I doubt it’s a harem.”
Theo pulled his watch from his fob pocket and checked the time. By his estimation, he had an hour at most until his nemesis arrived. “Do you have any objection if I close the club? I’ll persuade the players they have a better chance of recouping their losses if they return tomorrow.”
Aaron narrowed his gaze. “As few men will sit down with Rothley tonight, your suggestion has merit, though the shifty look in your eyes says you have an ulterior motive.”
He gave Aaron a brief account of the night’s events, omitting the part where he had traded information for a lingering kiss and lied about being betrothed to Miss Darrow.
“I expect Miss Darrow will come tonight,” he said, dismissing the pang of excitement as simple anticipation. “Like Rothley, the lady has something to hide. I’m determined to discover what.”
“Why do you care?” came Aaron’s direct reply.
The question stumped Theo.
The wager had nothing to do with the contents of the box.
Besides, how interesting could the modiste’s secret be?
“Delphine credits Miss Darrow with helping her findhappiness,” he said, struggling to think of another answer. “Though I have a personal gripe with the woman”—which had vanished into the ether when they’d kissed—“I respect their friendship. I would hate to think Miss Darrow is in trouble.” Particularly since he had been treating their verbal spars like a game.
Aaron did not dismiss the notion as folly. “Although Miss Darrow expressed regret over the shooting outside her shop, I found it odd she abandoned her work to nurse you. When she comes for the box, I suggest you ask her directly.”
He had every intention of doing just that. “I’ve given Miss Darrow a key. She should arrive within the hour. All I ask is that you remain in the study and allow her to reach my chamber unchallenged.”
Witnessing Lord Deacon edging covertly towards the door, Aaron said, “I need to deal with that reprobate. I’ll ensure Sigmund knows not to wrestle Miss Darrow to the ground. Come to my study once she’s left. I expect a full explanation.”
Theo nodded, though he doubted Miss Darrow would tell him her darkest secret. They had forged their bond in the fires of distrust. Every wary glance and guarded word was a testament to their fragile relationship.
Besides, there was nothing sinister in the box. Perhaps the threads concealed small gems, the simple cotton wrapped around her life’s savings. Perhaps she was toying with him, keen to rouse his concern and teach him a lesson.
After ushering the last gambler out of the club and securing the door, Theo could not shake the suspicion that he was a mere pawn in her intricate game.
Should that be the case, his next move would be seduction.
At the very least, he would claim another kiss tonight.
That thought kept him warm as he stripped off his clothes, washed and climbed into bed. He looked inside the box and studied the wooden appliqués on the sides and lid but found nothing of interest.
Then he waited in the gloom.
