Page 34 of One Night with a Prince
“You can’t blame her,” Christabel said stoutly. She’d met Mrs. Fitzherbert only once as a child, but that meeting remained branded in her memory. The woman was the noblest she’d ever known.
“I don’t blame her—I blamehim . Putting his mistresses aside did not mean he had to leave them destitute. Yet he conveniently waited until Mother’s claim that I wasn’t his had spread, then cut off her annuity.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “After that, it was just a matter of a word here and a nasty statement there, until he had everyone believing I was some product of my mother’s many supposed customers. She lost her job as an actress, and he didn’t even care. Bastard.”
She said nothing, her heart in her throat. No wonder he’d had to run with the blacklegs at eight. Was that why the prince had suggested that she turn to Byrne, of all people, for help? Did His Highness now feel guilty for what he’d done? Perhaps he’d thought to make amends by offering Byrne an easy chance at a barony.
But that was also why the prince had made it clear that Byrne should only be asked to get her the invitation, nothing more. Because involving him further in her mission was dangerous.He was dangerous. Panic gripped her. She’d brought him into the thick of it by suggesting she pretend to be his mistress and even his partner! Yes, she’d had no choice, but still…Oh Lord, what had she done? If Byrne found out what was in the letters, he wouldn’t hesitate to use them against His Highness. Never mind that he would cost the prince his throne in the process. And destroy her and her family. Well then, she must never let him know what was in them. Never.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
“So that’s why I never went to school,” he went on. “We couldn’t afford it. I’m what is popularly termedself-taught . Although Mother taught me to read, I learned the rest on my own.” He flashed her a ghost of a smile. “And luckily I inherited my actress mother’s gift for mimicry. It has served me well.”
Of course. That’s why he used such overly precise and formal language. He’d had to work at it, had to learn proper speech and manners and behavior by watching his betters, so he was more conscious of it than those born to it.
Hiding the pity that she knew he’d loathe, she said lightly, “Consider yourself fortunate to miss school. I hated it, particularly mathematics.”
“I’m surprised you were even taught it.” He eyed her over his hand. “Isn’t that unusual for a woman?”
She shrugged. “Papa wanted a son. Mama died before he could have one, so he pinned his hopes on me. He taught me how to shoot and ride and hunt…and solve equations. That’s why I’m completely inept in the feminine arts.”
“Not completely inept,” he said with a faint smile. “You kiss very well.”
Absurdly, that pleased her. “Do I?”
He chuckled. “Play, damn you, play.”
She sloughed off a low card in another suit to save her trumps, knowing it would lose her the trick but hoping it might win her the next few.
“You should have trumped while you had the opportunity,” he murmured, then proceeded to lead her out of her trumps, thus winning the rest of the tricks.
As he gathered up the cards, she fidgeted in her chair. “Give me another chance. I’ll try harder this time.”
“Bloody right you will.” He shuffled the cards. “This time we’re playing a real game. With real stakes. You’re never going to make an effort unless you have something tangible to lose.”
She scowled. “Like what? You know I have little money.”
“I’m not talking about money.”
When her gaze shot to him, he wore that hooded look that would turn any woman’s heart to mush. Even hers. Her pulse began to race. “Then what are you talking about?”
He rose and went to the door, which he closed and locked, sending a frisson of alarm down her spine.
“Risking the clothes on your back.” Coming up behind her, he bent to set the deck on the table before her. Then he pressed his mouth to her ear, and added in a heated whisper, “I’m talking about Whist for the Wicked.” Her heart thundered madly when he sat down, his eyes gleaming. “I can’t think of a better way to motivate you to improve your playing.”
“I am not going to—I would never—”
“Why? Afraid you’ll lose?”
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“Absolutely! You’re a seasoned gambler, and I’ve only begun to learn. Of course I’ll lose.”
Reaching across the table, he took the deck and shuffled the cards, slowly, methodically. “There’s no ‘of course’ about it. If you concentrate on remembering the cards, you’ll have a fighting chance. And I suspect you’ll be far more likely to concentrate if the consequence of not doing so is that I see you naked.”
Naked. The word perversely sent wanton thrills along her every nerve. This afternoon with the dressmaker had been bad enough, when his thorough examination of her half-clothed form had made her blush like a silly schoolgirl. But if she were forced to bare her breasts and her belly and…and…
“No,” she said firmly. “You’re trying to seduce me.”
A rakish smile touched his lips. “That would be a fitting end to the evening, but you’ve already said that sharing my bed doesn’t interest you. So I hardly see how one of us being naked will change that.”
