Page 30 of To Pleasure a Prince
“Rude and badly dressed?”
“I would have said ‘unpolished,’ but you’ve hit it exactly. He is very lucky to have found a friend like you who will overlook his behavior.”
He toyed with his fork. “As I did earlier, you mean? Did my friend…er…do anything in my study for which I should take him to task?”
Her smile froze. “No, of course not. I am perfectly capable of handling men who…do not know how to behave.”
His lordship chuckled. “I could tell. Although I fear it will take more than one slap to teach Draker how to behave. He has a tendency to be thickheaded.”
“Really?” she said dryly. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“But he’s had a rough go of it through the years, so I hope you’ll be patient with him. Or do I presume too much from your coming here with him?”
She blushed. “Yes…no…It’s hard to explain.”
He eyed her closely. “My wife and I have been hoping that something—or someone—would drag him out of the hole he’s dug for himself at Castlemaine. Now that someone has, I would hate to see him disappear back into his hole before he’s had a chance to acclimate himself to the world.”
“So would I.” Lord Draker might be annoying and arrogant and determined to hate everyone and everything, but he did not belong hidden at Castlemaine, no matter what he said.
Earlier, she’d glimpsed the softer side of his lordship—Marcus, who could be tender and even vulnerable. Who experienced life only through his books because no one would dare his foul temper long enough to drag him into the light.
Didshedare? Could she even do it?
She set her shoulders. Of course she could. She had a wager riding on it, after all, and she meant to win, if only to see his lordship better his life. She would live up to her nickname and show him no mercy. She would haul the cantankerous Dragon Viscount into decent society kicking and screaming, no matter how rude he got or how many insults he lobbed at her.
Fortunately, he did nothing at dinner to test her new resolve. The rest of the evening passed quickly, and to her vast relief, the party broke up shortly after dessert, leaving Marcus no chance to create more trouble. Not that it would have made much difference to the guests. Everyone there already treated him as if he had the plague—he could hardly make that worse.
Nonetheless, he stayed to the bitter end, probably because he wanted to spend every possible minute with his sister. A lump settled in Regina’s throat as she watched him and Louisa say their good-byes. His abiding love for his sister was one redeeming characteristic of the dreaded dragon.
But as soon as they’d entered the carriage, Marcus’s belligerent manner returned. He kept his brooding gaze on her while Cicely fidgeted and Simon talked about the evening.
When Simon took a breath, Marcus finally spoke. “I was considering the opera for our next engagement, Lady Regina.” He added tellingly, “Since you’re so fond of music.”
She tensed, not only because of his veiled reference to their aborted duet, but because he threw out the statement as if it were a challenge. Only she wasn’t sure exactly what the challenge was.
“Did you have a particular opera and theater in mind?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed on her. “I thought we might attend the Italian Opera House in Haymarket tomorrow night. It’s Mr. Naldi’s benefit performance inLe Nozze di Figaro.I hear he’s spectacular.” He inclined his head toward Simon. “Your brother and Miss Tremaine are welcome to join us, of course. Louisa has already said she’d like to go.”
“You have a box at the opera?” Cicely’s shocked tone was vaguely insulting.
Marcus’s eyes glittered. “No, but Iversley has kindly offered me his.” He glanced over at Simon. “Unless Foxmoor has one he would rather we use—”
“Feel free to use mine if you like,” Simon said, “but I’ll have to bow out. I promised…er…a friend that I would attend his dinner tomorrow evening.”
Regina caught her breath. She’d forgotten that Prinny had invited them both to Carlton House. And since the dinner had been discussed earlier at tonight’s soiree, Marcus couldn’t help but know where Simon meant to go.
A bitter half smile touched the viscount’s lips. “Ah, of course. And Lady Regina will be going with you.”
Sothatwas the source of his belligerence. He thought she planned to renege on their bargain now.
“I would rather go to the opera,” she put in, peeved that he could think her so easily discouraged.
Skepticism showed in his features. “Tomorrow night. With me.”
“Why not? Cicely and I both love the opera.”
“But my lady, the prince—” Cicely began.
