Page 64 of To Pleasure a Prince
“Don’t be ridiculous, Henry,” Regina said hastily. “Lord Draker is not my ‘charitable project.’ ”
“Wager, charitable project—it’s all the same. You transformed Draker into a gentleman. And judging from how everyone’s talking about him this evening, you’ve won the wager by a mile.”
The wordswagerandcharitable projectthundered in Marcus’s ears as he stared at Whitmore’s gloating expression.
Whitmore sipped his lemonade. “So what did you win, Regina?”
“Nothing…I mean, it wasn’t about money,” Regina whispered.
Marcus’s stomach roiled. Until she’d said that, he’d hoped Whitmore was mistaken. But no, she really had made some damned wager with her brother over him. It made perfect sense. Why else would she tolerate their insane bargain? And here he’d been inventing fictions with the two of them cozily ensconced at Castlemaine—
What an idiot he was. He should have listened to his instincts instead of letting her wind her spell about him, tempting him to dive right into the treacherous ocean. He should have known she would never truly be interested in the likes of him. Why had he thought she would? Because she’d given in to a kiss or two? Let him caress her? That was probably just one tactic she’d used to win her wager.
And she’d definitely won it, oh yes. Now everyone knew he was the pathetic creature who’d allowed her sly remarks and other temptations to turn him into a slobbering lapdog like all her others. Foxmoor must be laughing his ass off.
This is where you belong, you know. I don’t understand why you fight it so.
God, how could he have been such a fool?
Well, no more. But he’d be damned if he’d let her or Whitmore know how far he’d sunk. “I’ll tell you what she won.” Setting down his glass, he offered Regina his arm, although what he really wanted was to wring her sophisticated little neck. “Apparently, Foxmoor didn’t explain the whole of it. He refused to approve a courtship between us, citing my rough ways as the reason. So their wager was that if she could ‘clean me up,’ as you put it, he would give us his blessing. And how could I resist going along for such a prize?”
Whitmore paled as Regina took Marcus’s arm. “Courtship?” Whitmore said, his gaze shifting from Marcus to Regina and back.
“Yes.” Marcus forced a smile, although it felt as if his face might crack. “You see, Regina doesn’t refusemyproposals of marriage.” As Whitmore’s face turned to ash and Regina groaned, he added smoothly, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we really were headed off to dance.”
Then he turned and stalked off toward the dance floor. Thankfully, she went with him willingly, for if she hadn’t, he might have dragged her off forcibly.
And he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how Whitmore’s revelations had affected him. Already she was undoubtedly congratulating herself for her success at winning her wager. That was all the satisfaction he meant to give her.
“You handled that very well,” she said in a low voice.
Her praise burned in his gut like hot acid. Somehow he managed to sound nonchalant. “Glad to know you approve,” he said tightly.
Her fingers tightened on his arm. “Marcus, it was not what you think—”
She broke off at the approach of a young gentleman with whom Marcus had seen her earlier.
“Lady Regina!” the fellow exclaimed. “You promised me this next dance.”
For once, Marcus was glad she was so popular. He didn’t think he could manage a dance with her right now, knowing she was assessing his performance and congratulating herself on the effectiveness of her labors.
She glanced from the young man to Marcus. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jerrold, but I forgot about it, and accepted a dance with his lordship.”
“No problem,” Marcus said. “You have a previous engagement. I’ll wait until the next dance.”
“But—”
Before she could say more, he released her arm, bowed to the other gentleman, and walked off.
He headed for the door, forcing himself to nod here and there, to behave as if nothing were amiss. He hated the pretense, but he wasn’t about to throw away what he’d gained tonight. He had Louisa to consider. And since he fully intended never to set foot within ten feet of Lady Regina again, he must hold his own. So he squelched his urge to roar his anger at every man, woman, and child within hearing, even if it taxed his control to the limit.
Still, he’d be damned if he’d stay here to watch her gloat over her brilliant success. Thankfully he could leave if he wanted—he’d come here alone, so no one would think it strange if he departed alone.
He was halfway down the grand staircase when a voice hailed him from behind. He did not need to turn to recognize it as hers. Gritting his teeth, he pretended not to have heard and quickened his march toward the foyer.
The swish of her ball slippers behind him on the stairs quickened as well. Unfortunately, once he reached the foyer, he had to wait while the footman summoned his carriage, making it easy for her to catch up to him.
As she came up beside him, she said, “What do you think you’re doing?”
