Page 64 of The Danger of Desire
She grinned up at him. “She got the best of you, did she?”
“She did. But I didn’t mind. Given that I landed us in this situation, it was no more than I deserved.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You didn’t intend any of it. You were asleep and hardly knew what was going on. I don’t for a moment blame you for what happened.” She glanced away. “I blame myself.”
“You mustn’t.” Taking her hand, he tucked it in the crook of his elbow. “I am well pleased with the result.”
She darted a look up at him. “So am I.”
They continued in silence another long while, content to enjoy the waning sun and chirping birds in the trees. Then they rounded a bend in the path and came suddenly upon the folly.
She gasped. She’d expected some somber tower of weathered granite. Instead, it was a fanciful edifice of white-painted stone, with arched Gothic Venetian windows and grand crenellated turrets. Three stories high, it looked rather like a medieval wedding cake.
“That is more than a folly,” she said in awe. “It’s magnificent.”
“It is, isn’t it? Clarissa, Niall, and Yvette used to play in it when they were young.”
“Niall?”
“Clarissa’s brother, the Earl of Margrave, who owns the neighboring estate. That’s how Edwin and I came to be friends—from all my visits to see my cousins at Margrave Manor.”
“Lord Margrave is the one who’s been abroad for years, right?”
“Not anymore. He returned to England a couple of weeks ago, though he went straight to Margrave Manor, where he and Edwin have been trying to put the place to rights. You’ll probably meet him tomorrow at the wedding.” He took her hand. “Come, you must see the inside. The view from the rooftop is spectacular.”
They entered through an elaborately carved door into a scene of serene beauty. With ornate plasterwork, mahogany floors, and other elegant flourishes, the tower reminded her of the tale of Rapunzel.
Except that Rapunzel’s only means of exit was her hair. In the center of this tower was a lovely spiral staircase leading to the upper floors. The windows faced the woods on two sides and the fields on the third, and though Delia and Warren were only on the first floor, the views were amazing already.
“Clarissa thinks we should have the ceremony here tomorrow,” Delia said as they looked out at the forest. “What doyouthink?”
“Makes sense. If you want that.”
“I believe I do. It’s really lovely, if a trifle warm.” She took off her bonnet. “I suppose that’s to be expected with the sun beating down on all these windows. Perhaps we could have them open tomorrow. Would that be all right with you?”
“Anything you want is fine. I don’t care about the wedding preparations.” Warren turned toward her, looking suddenly serious. “There’s something more important we need to discuss.”
“Oh?”
“During my time in London dealing with your harridan of an aunt, certain information came to light. About your brother. And Camden Hall.”
Her heart began to pound. “What sort of information?”
“Well, your aunt had already told me that Camden Hall is heavily mortgaged because of his gambling losses. I’d assumed that they’d happened over time, that he was the usual young and reckless buck gambling his life away. But in the course of our negotiating terms for my helping keep the manor running until it could recoup, I learned more details about that. In short, I found out that your brother lost the funds in one night, apparently while playing in a gaming hell.”
She sighed. The truth had been bound to come out eventually. And she was relieved it had. Because if she and Warren were to marry, she needed him to know that she intended to continue her search. More discreetly, of course.
It galled her that the card cheat who’d brought her and Brilliana—and her brother—to this pass should get off scot-free. “Yes, that’s what happened.”
“I take it that the gaming hell was Dickson’s?”
She nodded.
“And the tattooed lord you’ve been seeking was the one to trounce him.”
Facing him, she said, “Not trounce him. Cheat him.”
Warren gazed steadily into her face. “How do you know your brother was cheated?”
