Page 11 of An Affair with a Notorious Heiress
Annie came in and closed the door behind her. “Yes, miss?”
“Should Lady Landsdowne ask after your megrim, tell her it’s fine now and thank her for her concern.”
“My megrim, miss?”
Gina sat on the bench in front of her dressing table. “It is as I suspected, Annie. His interest in me is feigned.” She had a feeling her uncle had put him up to it, although she wasn’t certain what Rexton hoped to gain with his actions. Perhaps he was simply a kind man helping a friend. But he wasn’t at all like the heroes in the romance novels she read. He didn’t make her feel light-headed or grow warm or tingle anywhere that she ought not.
She was rather certain the same couldn’t be said for Tillie. When she had met the marquess, she’d suspected that might be the case. And his interest in her sister wasn’t feigned. That was obvious. Although Tillie might deny it, when Gina had walked into the parlor, she’d been nearly scalded by the heat generated between Rexton and Tillie. That’s when she had decided that rather than sending for her maid to function as chaperone, she would ask Tillie to serve in the role.
It had been quite fascinating to watch the two of them verbally sparring, striving to get the better of each other. But if a man looked at Gina with a gaze as smoldering as Rexton’s when his eyes settled on Tillie—
Well, Gina certainly would encourage his suit.
She knew Tillie well enough to know she would not do any encouraging when it came to the man, so it was left to Gina to guide her along. Her sister had been gravely hurt, suspected all men of being up to no good. Perhaps she was right. Or perhaps she needed someone like the Marquess of Rexton to help heal her damaged heart.
But because of Tillie’s stubbornness, Gina was going to have to think of another ruse to get her sister to accompany her to the theater. It was going to take a great deal of ingenuity because she couldn’t have her maid fall ill again. She feared when all was said and done, she was going to turn out to be a very poor matchmaker.
Chapter 3
If one truly wanted to know what was going on in aristocratic circles then one went to the Twin Dragons, a gaming hell whose members were both male and female. Oddly the men gossiped far more than the ladies, but Rexton knew in order to discover if his courting of Miss Hammersley had been noticed and was being taken seriously that an evening at the card table in the main grand salon was likely to provide the answer.
He preferred playing in a private room where the stakes were higher, but for tonight he settled at a table with one lady and four other gents, one of them being the Earl of Landsdowne. He told himself he’d chosen that particular group because he wanted to get a sense of how Downie might react to his courting his former sister-in-law, wanted to ensure the man wasn’t going to undermine Rexton’s efforts to get Gina married to someone. But he had to acknowledge he was curious regarding what Downie might reveal about the woman he’d divorced. Maybe he’d even know why she’d taken up with the blasted footman.
He couldn’t deny love was an odd thing. His family and circle of closest friends were a mixture of nobility and commoner, of the upright, the staunch obeyers of the law, as well as pickpockets, thieves, and swindlers. Therefore he understood the heart controlled destinies more than the head or social position. Still he could no more envision Lady Landsdowne with the butler than he could imagine himself with a Whitechapel whore. He had discerning tastes and he suspected the countess did as well. And here he was thinking about her again when he should be concentrating on her sister, on ensuring he met the terms he’d agreed to with Hammersley so he had access to the stud he wanted.
Or at that precise moment, considering he’d lost three hands in a row, perhaps he should focus on the cards he was dealt. Or ensuring Downie won. The earl tended to get a bit more verbose when Lady Luck was smiling down on him, so perhaps Rexton should continue to play haphazardly. In private, he tended to gamble with those who were very skilled at manipulating cards, at judging odds, and at reading the deck. So although it went against the grain, he began tossing away cards he shouldn’t.
“Not having much luck tonight, are you, Rexton?” Downie finally crowed.
Rexton had forgotten how quickly the earl grated on his nerves. “No luck at cards tonight, it seems, but I have been having luck elsewhere. With a lady at least.”
The solitary female at the table, Lady Edith Leland, to whom he’d been introduced the night before, lifted her twinkling brown gaze from her cards and smiled at him. “With Miss Hammersley, it would seem. I noticed her in your carriage at the park this afternoon.”
He took a quick glance at his cards, tossed away two jacks. “Indeed. She honored me with her presence. She’s quite a delight.”
That two of the other unmarried gents at the table perked up with his comment gave him a sense of satisfaction. By night’s end, he’d have the girl’s dance card filled at the next ball she attended.
“Gina?” Downie scoffed. “I’d be careful there, old man. If she’s anything at all like her sister, she’ll be naught but trouble. You’ll barely have her dowry in hand before she’s sneaking off with a footman and doing her best to bring you down.”
Rexton was tempted to tell him one night in his bed would be enough to convince her no footman, no other man, would satisfy her. But he was rocked with the realization he wasn’t envisioning Gina in his bed but rather Lady Landsdowne. When he thought of her with Downie, he had a sick churning in his gut as though he’d eaten something rancid. “I’m quite certain I can keep her content.”
Although when it came to Gina, he had no interest in keeping her at all. She was like a small fish to be tossed back into the pond for someone else—and now guilt was niggling at him for that unkind thought. He was not in the habit of being mean to women, thinking ill thoughts toward them, or taking advantage. He would redouble his efforts to find her someone more worthy than he was.
Downie exposed his cards, gave a satisfied smirk as those of the other players were revealed, before taking the chips from the center of the table with hands that appeared too soft. Rexton didn’t want to think of them caressing Lady Landsdowne’s stomach, shifting up to cup her breasts, circling around to cradle her backside. The man himself was handsome enough, even if his lips were so thin as to be nearly nonexistent. As the dealer began passing out the cards, Rexton heard himself ask, “I can’t recall, Downie. How long were you married?”
“Three years before we separated and I petitioned for divorce. Although the time required to see me completely free of her seemed to pass as slowly as an eternity. These American girls are deuced spoiled, Rexton. Mark my words: you are better off with an English lass who knows her place and understands tradition.”
Even from where he sat, he sensed Lady Edith teeming with indignation—or maybe it was himself bristling. He was accustomed to being surrounded by the strong women in his family. Their places had always been at their husbands’ sides, if not a step in front of them. He imagined Lady Landsdowne—Tillie—as young and innocent as her sister, her blue eyes wide and filled with hope and promise, her smiles coming easily. It bothered him now to realize he’d not seen her smile, not a true smile. She’d given him a few sardonic twists of her lips, but nothing genuine, nothing joyful.
He exchanged only two cards. He was going to ensure Downie didn’t win this hand.
“If I might be so bold, Lord Rexton,” Lady Edith whispered, although her voice carried over the table, “I noticed the other lady in the carriage. That wouldn’t have been the notorious heiress herself, would it?”
He gave her a hard look, one he’d practiced in his youth when he’d wanted to intimidate his younger brother, who had once told him his narrowed eyes reminded him of a finely honed rapier.
The poor girl blushed. “Lady Landsdowne, I mean.”
“Indeed it was. She was serving as chaperone for her sister.”
