A Beginner's Guide to Rakes (32 page)

“Very logical of you.”

“I’m not afraid of them, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I’ve never seen you afraid of anything, my fierce warrior queen.”

“We are allies for the moment,” she said, attempting to ignore the warm tingle of his words. “I am not yours. Or anyone’s.”

“Very well.
You
fierce warrior queen. Better?”

“Infinitely. Is your curiosity satisfied, then?”

“For the moment. I sup…” Oliver paused, then nodded and sent a grin at a passing acquaintance. “Appleton.”

“Haybury.” The fellow pulled up his bay gelding and tipped his hat at her. “You must be Lady Cameron. I keep waiting for Haybury to invite me to his new club, but I’ve barely seen him in the past month.”

“I live above a gentlemen’s club, James,” Oliver returned. “Having found paradise, I’m reluctant to leave it.”

Mr. Appleton grinned, nodding. “That I understand. I owe you a luncheon, however. The Society tomorrow?”

“The Tantalus Club, at two o’clock.”

“That’s good of you, Oliver. I’ll see you there.”

Diane watched the man ride off again. “I hope Mr. Appleton proves less troublesome than your other friends.”

“Greaves and Larden are not my friends,” he stated flatly. “Manderlin and Appleton are.”

She reconsidered what she’d been about to say. “Greaves has applied for membership at the club.”

“I’m not surprised. The Tantalus Club is becoming the place to be seen. I won’t be voting in his favor, however.”

He hadn’t asked her to do the same. A small thing, perhaps, but she considered it significant. At the beginning he’d attempted to step into her business, but lately he’d seemed to realize how angry that made her. Either that or he approved of what she was doing. Not that she cared about that, but he had spent a great deal of his time in gentlemen’s clubs. If an expert supported her efforts, well, naturally she would be pleased by that fact, she supposed.

Oliver glanced around them. “I was about to say that I can’t imagine you simply returning to your parents’ house and living off their good graces until you could marry again.”

“Is that what I was supposed to do? It honestly never occurred to me to return home.”

“Why would it? I’ve yet to see you retreat from anything.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve another question for you.”

“Aren’t you the curious one today? Just remember that I may have some questions for
you,
and now I’ll expect you to answer every one of them.”

“Agreed.”

“Then ask away.”

“Before me, you had never been with any man but Frederick, had you?”

Her heart thudded a little harder. “No, I hadn’t. You were the first time I realized that my ‘wifely duty,’ as my mother called it, could be so very pleasurable. Thank you for that, I suppose.” Halfway across the park she caught sight of Lady Dashton in her barouche, two of the viscountess’s Ladies of Moderation with her. Diane sighed.

She’d actually liked Lady Dashton on their first meeting, and she had the feeling that it was Lord Dashton’s drinking rather than The Tantalus Club that had the viscountess squawking so loudly. The Ladies of Moderation were yet another problem she would have to save for another day, though it was beginning to seem that she would run out of days before she ran out of problems.

Oliver tugged at her arm. “What did y—”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she cut in. It made her feel too vulnerable to have him asking so many questions of her. “It’s my turn now. Why were you in Vienna two years ago? The truth, if you please.”

“I never lied about it before; you just never asked me.”

“I am now.”

Oliver gazed across the park, though he didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular. “As you wish. Two years ago I annoyed my uncle one too many times and he cut me off. I had some blunt I could use to support myself through wagering, but after Greaves cheated me out of it I could no longer afford to live in London. Hence my holiday in Vienna. And hence my less than honest behavior at the table that night when I played against DuChamps.” He glanced sideways at her. “Is that the one question you truly wanted to ask me?”

The other question took more courage. Still, she was apparently now a fierce warrior queen. What was a bit of painful reminiscing to a warrior? “You’re certainly brave today,” she said aloud. “You’re actually encouraging me to bring that up?”

Stopping again, Oliver slipped his arm from beneath her hand and instead clasped her fingers in his. “Neither of us is ever likely to forget. I’m aiming a bit lower.”

She snorted. “Forgiveness, I presume? This had best be a very good tale.” The words didn’t have quite the sting she intended. Apparently his recent good deeds and the very lovely afternoon were having a greater effect on her than she’d realized.

“Time to find out, I suppose.” He took a breath. “When I arrived at Lady Darham’s luncheon, I asked her who you were, sitting there in the corner by yourself and all dressed in black. She told me that you were English and your idiot of a husband had just died and left you penniless. You literally … stopped my heart, with that long black hair and your beautiful eyes. And I wanted you. I thought…” He stopped, keeping his gaze on her face. “I thought you would be easy to maneuver into bed.”

“And I was. But that’s the beginning of the tale. I asked you about the end.”

“Diane, y—”

She pulled away from him. “I recognize that tone. Either tell me or tell me that you’re not going to tell me. Don’t attempt to change the subject.”

Oliver caught her hand in his again. “Very well. But you’re not fleeing after I speak.”

From the hard grip of his fingers around hers, she doubted she would be able to manage it even if she wanted to. “I asked the question. I imagine I can manage hearing the answer.”

“I left because I was seven-and-twenty, had no fortune, and was determined that I would not be some married, domesticated half-wit whose only escape was to leave home every night to go wagering with the few pennies I’d managed to scrape together.”

“I never asked to be married to you.”

“But I wanted to be married to you. I could scarcely think of anything else. And you were correct; it terrified me. It was the opposite of everything I thought I wanted for my life, and yes, I fled. I returned to London and went directly to my uncle and apologized for my ill advised behavior. Three weeks after he wrote me back into his will, he dropped dead in the middle of the House of Lords. His heart, the physician said. I’ve been attempting to forget you for two years, Diane.”

She could feel herself breathing, but no air seemed to be reaching her lungs. Of all the things she’d expected to hear, that Oliver had liked her too much had never been one of them. His keen gaze studied her face intently, as though he was attempting to decipher what she was thinking. As she had no idea what to think, she wished him good luck with that.

“Well?” he finally prompted. “Aren’t you going to hit or kick or shoot me or something?”

“You … you left because you were
too
fond of me?” she finally managed, her voice as unsteady as her thoughts. “And all this time I thought…”

“You thought what?”

She shook herself. “Oh, no. That is one conversation we are not having. Not now.” Perhaps not ever.

“My dear, I deserve whatev—”

“I’d like to return to our discussion about Anthony,” she interrupted. “You intend on baiting him into doing something stupid. Are you certain you can manage that?”

He was silent for a moment. “I excel at leading others astray,” he finally said, though he would obviously rather be continuing that other discussion. “You know that. And never fear, we will do something dastardly to him. But if he hurts you—or attempts to hurt you, Diane—I will end him. And I won’t compromise about that.”

“When did you become so protective?”

He shrugged, finally loosening his grip on her fingers. “I don’t know. But I assure you, I am perfectly serious.”

She could see that he was. The steady gray eyes, the clenched jaw, even the way he stood between her and most of the other St. James’s Park visitors. For a second she allowed herself to feel cared for and protected by a man who’d once very nearly wanted to marry her, to forget that Anthony Benchley was her problem and would be dealt with on
her
terms. Oliver had already agreed to that, so he knew the rules, but for a moment it was nice—in a warm, fluff-filled pastry sort of way—to pretend.

Then she pulled her hand free and shifted the parasol to her other shoulder. “Very gallant,” she said aloud, “but unnecessary. Play your part as you agreed and I will be satisfied.”

Oliver fell in beside her again. “Come to my bed tonight, and
I
will be satisfied.”

“We are not negotiating something you already agreed to,” Diane retorted, ignoring the thrill swirling down her spine. Whatever motivated him these days, it was still … pleasant to be desired.

“Then come because you choose to.”

And
that
was a very tempting offer. After all, she’d made doing as she pleased something of a motto these days. He was still trouble. A great deal of trouble. But God help her, she was becoming quite fond of his sort of trouble. And knowing why he’d fled Vienna made more of a difference than she would ever have admitted to him.

His reasons didn’t change the fact that he’d fled in a decidedly ungentlemanly manner, and she didn’t wish to make any excuses for him over that. But she knew what he’d been like before, and she was beginning to believe that he truly had changed. For the better. “Perhaps,” she said aloud. “But you are not to destroy my home if I don’t appear.”

With a wicked grin he took her hand again. Lifting it, he kissed her knuckles. “No promises.”

*   *   *

Oliver wrote out three drafts of the letter he, Diane, and Miss Martine had decided would be necessary to lure Lord Cameron into their net. Finally satisfied that he’d conveyed what he needed to say in terms plain enough to be understood and subtle enough that it didn’t look faux, he dusted the letter, blew it off, and folded it so he could write the address on the outside.

“Myles,” he called, and his footman appeared from the direction of the front room.

“Yes, my lord?”

He slid the letter across his desk. “See that someone delivers this tonight.”

The servant took the letter and headed out of the small office again. “Very good, my lord.”

“And Myles, stop gawking out the front window. You’ll frighten away Lady Cameron’s guests.”

“I’ve never seen so many well-dressed women in one place. It’s all so … fluttery.”

Oliver snorted, turning the page of the book he’d been attempting to read. “It reminds me of the first assembly at Almack’s during the Season, except no one’s wearing white.”

“Might I look from behind the curtains, my lord?”

“Make certain the lamps are all out first. I don’t want anyone thinking it’s me spying through the window.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Yes, well, one of us might as well have some fun with chits this evening.” Standing, he pulled on his dark blue coat. “I’m going out for a time. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Even if Diane did decide to call on him that night, it would be well after midnight. And while rumors that the two of them were lovers didn’t trouble him in the least, both Appleton and Manderlin had lately been intimating that he was being pulled about by his cock. He had the strong suspicion that they were aiming a good eighteen inches or so too low, but he could do without hearing it, anyway.

With three hours to wait for an answer to his letter, he directed his driver to take him to the Society Club. Both the games and the company there bored him, and after less than an hour he moved on to White’s. It wasn’t much of an improvement. Forty minutes earlier than he’d intended he found himself at Boodle’s. By then he had to admit that it wasn’t the clubs. He was the problem, restless and uncomfortable in his own skin and scarcely able to contemplate anything other than returning to The Tantalus Club.

It wasn’t even that the games were better there, though they were. Hell, he’d barely played for more than a quid in a fortnight. No, the games weren’t the lure of The Tantalus Club. Not for him. Of course, a good portion of the club’s members had joined because of the chits running the games and carrying the drinks and serving the meals. For him it was one chit—or rather, one challenging, sophisticated lady—who kept him returning, who made him want to be there every night even when he had obligations elsewhere, and even when men weren’t invited.

Whatever the devil had happened to him, she’d done it. And not by waving a damning letter from someone whom, if need be, he could track down and squash like a bug. Two years ago she’d been an attractive, compelling, but very vulnerable woman. Now she was a remarkable one. And he couldn’t imagine how dull and ordinary the days—and nights—would be without her. She claimed to make a point of never repeating her mistakes, but so did he. He’d let her get away once. He wouldn’t do it again.

“Oliver. You’re just in time to purchase me a brandy.”

Stopping his stroll through Boodle’s at the sound of Manderlin’s voice, he returned to the small sitting room at the front of the club. “My timing is remarkable,” he noted, gesturing for two snifters.

“It is,” Jonathan agreed. “Though we’re likely to expire before a footman actually appears. The fellow behind the bar served drinks to Shakespeare himself, and he’s the youngest servant here tonight.”

All of the clubs had been short-staffed this evening. Considering where those men were tonight and Oliver’s own connection to The Tantalus Club, he wasn’t about to complain. “I’m not in any hurry.”

“Neither am I, actually.” The earl drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “Are you attending Hereton’s soiree tomorrow night?”

“I accepted the invitation, but I’m not entirely convinced I want to spend five hours avoiding Lydia Hereton.”

“Perhaps if you’d avoided her last year she wouldn’t be chasing you now.”

Oliver eyed him. “As my friend you are supposed to commiserate with me—not remind me of my mistakes.”