Their Wicked Ways (4 page)

Chapter Five

The dinner party was more
tedious, and frustrating, than either Darcy or Nick had anticipated.  Other
than themselves, the Vicar, his son, and his daughter were the only guests. 
Bronte was both vivacious and flirtatious … with the vicar’s son.  She was
exquisitely polite to both of them seemingly either oblivious to, or impervious
to, Darcy’s roguish charm.  Nick merely observed.

He wasn’t particularly
displeased with what he observed, however.

Darcy was in a black mood
when he climbed into the carriage with Nick and headed back to the inn where
they had been staying.  Contrary to what Nick had said, he had no intention of
going near his stuffy older brother, the Marquis, or his sister-in-law, who’d
already made it abundantly clear that she was entirely too willing to share her
charms, so long as they kept it in the family.  Having no desire to offend his
brother, whom he held in affection even though he found him utterly boring, or
defend his honor from his sister-in-law, he’d decided it would be best to steer
well clear of his ancestral home.

Besides, his other brothers,
if they were in residence, were always in need of money and he had no intention
of funding their gambling habits any further.  If they were so lacking in skill
and/or luck, they needed to find another pastime.

“Royally trounced,” Darcy
muttered in disgust, “and by a whelp hardly out of leading strings.”

Nick smiled thinly. “She has
no interest in the boy.  That was for our benefit.”

Darcy frowned.  “I’m not such
a nodcock I hadn’t figured that out, but I’m not so sure it’s the way you seem
to think.  In fact, I know it wasn’t.  I’ve seen coy.  Coy means ‘I can be had,
but you’re going to have to work for it’.  That wasn’t coy.  The way she looked
at me was enough to emasculate a fellow.  In fact, that cold look unnerved me
so badly at one point I had to take a little trip outside just to make sure my
cock
hadn’t
withered .”

Nick sent him an amused
glance.  “And had it?”

Darcy grunted.  “Don’t get
your hopes up.  It’s still bigger than yours,” he said with a grin.

“Only in your eyes, Darcy,
but I’ve been meaning to mention the possibility that you might be in need of
spectacles.  You really should have your eyes checked.”

“Ha, ha,” Darcy responded,
not amused in the least.

“What I meant was, she has no
interest in the boy.  She was merely making a point of allowing us to know she
had no interest in us.”

Darcy frowned.  “Well, that’s
that, then.  I guess we’ll be off to town again tomorrow?”

“Mmm,” Nick responded
noncommittally.

Darcy studied him through
narrowed eyes.  “I see what it is.  You think I’ll decamp and leave the field
to you,” he said suspiciously.

Nick shrugged, but Darcy
could see the gleam of amusement in his eyes.  “As you so eloquently put it,
there
is
no playing field.”

“Then why are you staying?”

Nick’s brows rose as he
regarded his friend with sardonic amusement.  “Did I say that I was?”

“No.  You just made that
noise that was supposed to convince me you were agreeing with me.”

“I am always agreeable.”

“Yes, even when you have a
dueling pistol leveled at a fellow,” Darcy said tartly.

“Precisely.”

“Which is exactly why I know
you’ve no more intention of leaving tomorrow than you have of giving up this
whole scheme of yours.”

“Scheme?” Nick said
pensively.  “I’ve never particularly cared for that word, particularly when
associated with myself.  In any case, there was never any ‘scheme’.  I was
merely curious.”

“And now that you’ve had your
curiosity appeased?”

“I’m not at all certain it
has been appeased,” Nick said, arching a brow.  “In fact, I’m certain it has
not.  It has only been whetted.”

“So--you’re not heading back
for town tomorrow?” he asked, not really expecting a satisfactory answer.  Nick
could be a trial sometimes.

“Mmm,” Nick responded
noncommittally.

“Damn it to hell and back
again!” Darcy growled.  “Do what you please then.  I’m for town.”

Nick shrugged.  “I always
do.  Have a pleasant trip.”

As it transpired, neither of
them departed for town the following morning.  Darcy lifted a few too many
tankards and slept well past noon, waking to the unwelcome discovery of the
barmaid in his bed.  He stared at her in bemusement for several moments, and
then looked around the room, wondering if he’d been too drunk to find his way
to his own room.  Once he’d assured himself that he was indeed in the correct
room, there was still the little matter of the barmaid, dead to the world, in
his bed, and he had a very bad feeling that she might be related to the owner
of the inn for, in the light of day, she bore an uncanny resemblance to the
man.

He wondered how he could have
failed to have noticed that particular fact before, but then there were a
number of inconsistencies to his memory beyond that.  For one, she seemed a bit
older than he recalled, a little more voluptuous than he found attractive, a
little less clean than suited his tastes, and she seemed to be missing a number
of teeth if the dark cavern from which enormous snores were emerging was
anything to go by, which he rightly assumed it was since it appeared far too
large to be any other cavern.

For another, he couldn’t
recall to save his life how he’d gotten to bed, how he’d undressed, or what
he’d done afterward, but she was as naked as he was and he was more than a
little perturbed about that.

After a moment, it occurred
to him that he might need to consider a rapid exit if it transpired that the
female in his bed actually was related to the owner of the inn.  With great
care, he extricated himself from the bed and tiptoed to the window to have a
look down.

There was a roof only a few
feet below the window, he saw with some relief, and since his room faced the
stables, he decided he could be out and gone within a matter of minutes, minus
his belongings, of course, and the saddle and tack for his horse, but he was
perfectly willing to make the sacrifice if the alternative was to have his ass
shot off by an irate father.

The window might present a
problem.  He wasn’t as convinced as he would’ve liked that he could squeeze his
bulk through it at all, much less with any speed.  Finally, he decided it was
worth a try and tiptoed back across the room to gather his clothes. If there
was any help for it, he’d just as soon take those with him.  It was freezing
cold outside.  He doubted there would be many about to witness a bare rider,
but he’d as soon not freeze his balls off, or be forced to the necessity of
visiting his ancestral home for something to prevent a nasty chill.  His mother
was in residence and he rather thought she might ask unpleasant questions.

He’d managed to dress, more
or less, and had grasped one boot when the voice he was hoping not to hear
emerged from the bed. “You’re off then?”

He flashed her a grin that
wasn’t quite as devil-may-care as his usual jaunty smile.  “Afraid so.”

She sent him what he had to
suppose was intended to be a seductive smile.  It failed, primarily because it
displayed a grand total of three teeth, two on the top and one on the bottom. 
“You told me last night ye’d make it up ter me this morning.”

“Did I?” he asked, stalling
for time as he gritted his teeth and finally managed to force one of his boots
onto his feet.  “That was infamous of me.  Was I remiss last eve?”

She frowned, obviously
confused.  “Missed altogether, ye did.  Ye told me ye was too drunk ter find yer
cock.”

Relief flooded him.  “So--we
didn’t…?”

Her frown deepened to a
scowl.  “It’s still a shilling fer me time.”

“That is good news,” he said
jovially, searching around for his purse.  Finding that he’d shoved it into his
jacket, he extricated it, tossing her two with a wink and a grin.

She scooped the coins up. 
“We could still ‘ave us a little fuck.  I’ve nae ter be downstairs for a bit
yet.”

He tried to look interested
and disappointed at the same time.  “Thanks, but I’ve got to be off, I’m afraid.”

Shrugging, she got up,
dressed and departed.

Darcy examined the bed to
make certain there was nothing moving around in it and plopped down on the edge
when he found it looked relatively clean, dropping his throbbing head into his
hands.  In a general way, he wasn’t inclined to imbibe quite so freely, and he
couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he’d done so the night before. 
After some time, it occurred to him that he’d been soothing his wounded ego,
which brought him around to wondering if Nick had risen yet.

A hair of the dog, he
decided, was just what he needed to get rid of the pounding headache, and
possibly a sizable portion of beef, and whatever else they might have on hand
that was edible.

Since there was no longer any
urgency about leaving, he decided to take the time to make himself a bit more
presentable.  Moving to the door, he bellowed for hot water with which to
shave.  It proved to be an unwise decision since it set his head to throbbing
even harder and he decided to lie down and wait for the massive pain to ease
off a bit.

When he woke once more, he
discovered the water had been delivered, but now was only lukewarm.  Shrugging,
he shaved anyway, wondering where the hell his man had gotten off to since he’d
had plenty of time to make the trip from London by now.

Feeling marginally better, he
went downstairs, ordered food and, while he was waiting, decided to ask the
innkeeper about Nick since he was nowhere in sight.

“The gen’lman has departed.”

Darcy instantly came to
attention.  “Departed!” he demanded indignantly.  “When?  To where?”

“As to where, I couldn’t
say,” the innkeeper responded.  “Not bein’ privy to his lordship’s business,
but he left shortly after noon.”

Darcy ground his teeth,
drumming his fingers on the bar while he considered why Nick might have left
since he’d given every indication he intended to stay a while.  It finally
occurred to him that either Bronte had given him reason to believe his efforts
would be totally wasted, or Bronte had departed, as well.

“Did he go anywhere before he
left?  Say, earlier this morning?”

“Well now, I don’t make an
‘abit of snoopin’ on me guests, an’ particularly if they ‘appen ter be a lord.”

“He ain’t a lord, damn it! 
No more than I am.  Did he, or didn’t he?”

“I seem ter recall, now that
yer mention it, that ‘e was gone a bit, came back breathin’ fire, packed ‘is
bags and then left.”

Darcy frowned.  “Did he say
anything?”

“Well, now, in case yer
‘adn’t noticed the gen’lman weren’t a real talkative sort.”

“He ain’t the sort to breathe
fire neither,” Darcy retorted. “I figure if he was that furious he might have
said something.”

The innkeeper scratched his
crotch thoughtfully.  “Now ye mention it, I guess ‘e weren’t exactly breathin’
fire.  More like … steamin’, cuttin’ everybody with that sharp tongue of ‘is
and them cold eyes ‘cause they weren’t movin’ fast enough to suit ‘im.”

Darcy hit the bar with his
balled fist.  “That tears it!  I’ve got half a mind to call him out, damn it to
hell!”  He stewed over it for several moments and finally dug in his pocket for
some coins.  “I’ll be leaving, too.”