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that. Don't you know the house always wins? You would only end up more
in debt, losing what you had to start."
Sydney gathered some dignity around her it was more rumpled than
her sodden cloak and pulled a small notebook from her pocket. "I have
never been the wantwit you consider me, my lord. I did not go there to
gamble, but to observe. I wanted to know how such an enterprise was run.
See? I made note of the staff and the rooms and tables. I thought that if
things got desperate, we could turn the ground floor of our house into a
gaming parlor, for invited guests only, of course."
The viscount's lip was twitching. "Of course."
"Don't patronize me, Lord Mayne. I was led to believe that only the
highest ton were invited there. I admit I was wrong, but the principle is
sound. As you said, the house always wins. I could see that Lady
Ambercroft is making a fortune, and maybe I could, too. She is providing
for herself and she is still accepted everywhere."
Forrest was not about to discuss all the ways Lady Ros was earning her
bread. "Lady Ambercroft is a widow, not a young deb. Furthermore, she is
accepted, not necessarily welcomed, and that more for her husband's title
and despite her present occupation. And finally, one of the places where
she is not accepted and never will be is the marriage market. Gentlemen
like Baron Scoville do not countenance their prospective brides shuffling
pasteboards in smoky rooms. They don't even like to be related to in-laws
in trade, Mischief, much less a sister who runs a gaming den."
"Oh, pooh, I scratched Baron Scoville off my list ages ago. I never liked
him anyway, and Winnie seems determined on your brother. I thought we
could use him as a dealer, since he is familiar with such places. That way
we could save money on the staff and give him a respectable income so he
doesn't have to make the army his career."
"A respectable " He was laughing too hard to continue. "Mischief, your
mind certainly works in mysterious ways. Bren has two small estates of his
own and will come into a moderate fortune from our mother. The only
reason he has not bought himself a commission, indeed why neither I nor
my father has seen to it for him, is that Mother threatens to go into a
decline if he signs up. She would purchase his cornetcy herself, however,
rather than see him become a knight of the baize tables. But thank you,
poppet, for worrying about my brother's reformation. As a croupier!"
While he was laughing again, Sydney thought about her plan to reform
Forrest Mainwaring as well as Brennan. She could see her strategy needed
more refining, especially since she could not resist laughing with him.
Lord Mayne moved over to her side of the carriage and put his arm
around her. "Listen, Mischief, we are partners, more or less, aren't we?"
Sydney allowed as how they might be. "Then I get to have a say in how the
money is spent. That's fair, isn't it?" She nodded her head, dislodging the
hood. He brushed the damp curls off her cheek. "Then I absolutely,
categorically, forbid our blunt being used to set up a gambling den, no
matter how polite. Is that understood?"
"You needn't worry, Lord Mayne, after tonight I would never consider
such a thing."
"That's Forrest, sweetheart. I really think we are on familiar enough
terms to stop my-lording and my-ladying each other."
Sydney felt they were on quite too familiar terms, her cheek tingling
from his touch. She trembled and inched as far away from him as she
could on the leather seat.
Forrest was not entirely convinced that she had abandoned her latest
scheme. Reliving the horror of finding her in such a place, he said gruffly,
"You know, having his granddaughter set herself up as a child of fortune
would break the general's heart."
"Having a granddaughter instead of a grandson already broke his heart.
I thought I'd let him operate the roulette table," she said with a giggle.
"No one could accuse him of stopping the wheel with his foot under the
table."
Forrest did not think she was taking his warning seriously enough. "I
swear, Mischief, if you ever mention starting such a place, if you so much
as set foot in such a place, I'll turn you over my knee and beat some sense
into you, which should have been done years ago. As a matter of fact, it's
not too late." Seeing that she was shivering from his threats or the cold
Forrest reached out to pull her onto his lap. Sydney screamed until he
stopped her mouth with his.
Whatever sense she ever had flew right away, for she let him kiss her
and hold her and touch her. And she kissed him and held him and touched
him back, and enjoyed it mightily.
Such a heavenly embrace might have led heaven knew where, but they
were home, and Willy or Wally was opening the door, looking mad as
fire to find Missy sitting in his lordship's lap. The footman plucked her out
like a kitten from a basket and stood glaring at the viscount. Forrest could
not tell whether it was the twin with the glass jaw or not, and did not feel
like finding out the hard way. He tapped his cane on the carriage roof and
left, smiling.
The guard outside, his own paid watchman, called after the coach:
"Lordy, you never said I was supposed to keep her safe from you!"
20
High Ton, High Toby
« ^ »
ydney had a cold, and cold feet about meeting the ton. As soon as
S
word spread that the younger Miss Lattimore was afflicted with a chill,
however, even more bouquets of flowers arrived at Park Lane from suitors,
along with baskets of fruit from well-wishers and pet restoratives from
various dowagers. By some miracle or Lord Mayne Sydney had
squeaked through another scrape with her reputation intact. She was too
miserable to care.
Her nose was stuffed, her plans had gone awry, her heart was in
turmoil, and her wits had gone begging. How could it be, she asked [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]