Page 12 of Not his Marchioness
It was madness. It was a trap… Yet it was freedom.
She looked directly into the Marquess’s sparkling blue eyes, the buildings around reflected in them.
“You may regret this.”
“Oh, believe me,” he said with a laugh, “a part of me already does.”
CHAPTER 5
Rhys burst through the doors at Gents, one of London’s newer clubs. Another he had not gained membership in. However, he had been admitted recently under a guest voucher, thanks to his friend. It was a probationary membership, but still better than nothing.
He was instantly met by the familiar chatter, the heavy scent of cooking from the kitchen, and tobacco smoke wafting out of the smoking room. The sharp clack of billiard balls from the next room caught his attention, followed by a jubilant shout.
He smiled.Gideon. He’d know that voice anywhere.
He passed the reception desk, where the young man stationed there simply nodded—he was a familiar face by now. In the billiards room, he found Gideon leaning over the table, one eye squeezed shut as he lined up a shot.
“Yes!” Gideon crowed as he sank the ball. “Higby, I told you I was going to take you for all you’re worth. Now, open your purse.”
Jeremiah Higby, a tall, blond fellow with a sour expression, scowled but did as asked, tossing a few coins onto the table. “You cheat.”
“Am I?” Gideon asked innocently. “Have you got proof of that?”
Higby snarled under his breath, brushed past him, and stormed out, his elbow knocking into Rhys as he went.
“Watch where you’re going,” Rhys hissed.
“If there’s anyone here who needs to watch himself, it’s you, Ravenscar,” Higby muttered, disappearing through the door.
Once alone, Gideon rolled his eyes. “What an insufferable jackanape. Some gentlemen simply cannot stand to lose. Now, shall we have a round?”
“I think not,” Rhys replied. “He may be an insufferable curmudgeon, but he’s right. You do cheat.”
“How can I possibly cheat at billiards? It is an impossibility.”
Rhys raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, he pointed to a half-finished glass of whiskey sitting on the table. “Yours?”
“Yes,” Gideon confirmed.
Without another word, Rhys downed what was left and set the glass down with a satisfying thud. “I’ll have another.”
“Put it on my tab,” Gideon said with a grin. “Now, come. One game, no cheating.”
Gideon winked. “Number one, I never cheat my friends. And number two, you know all my tricks. So even if I tried, I’d fail.”
The two set up the table, and Rhys took the first shot… and missed. Gideon watched him closely, then sat down with a quiet thump on the bench along the wall.
“All right, then. What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“Nothing’s amiss,” Rhys replied too quickly.
He bent down, fussing with the cue chalk to delay the inevitable.
“You looked miserable when you walked in. Then, you missed the opening shot. That’s unlike you. And let’s not even mention the way you downed my whiskey.”
Rhys sighed. “I may have found myself a bride.”
“A bride?” Gideon echoed, surprised. “Is this about that nonsense your solicitor told you about? About the House of Lords?”
