out in a cold sweat. This wasn’t like him, not like him at all. Women were necessary to his well-being, but this pressing need Moira aroused in him confused him. She exuded a lavish sensuality that she wasn’t even aware of. It shouldn’t bother a profligate rogue like him, but it did.
Whitcomb’s rout was a bore, Jack thought as he made his way to the gaming room. He abhorred the crush of people, but the gaming tables looked promising. Most of the men engaged in gambling were playing for high stakes and could affordit. If his luck held, and he felt it would, he would go home tonight with enough blunt to pay for Moira’s wardrobe.
“I decided to forgive you.”
Jack turned at the sound of Victoria’s voice, composing his face into a smile. “I’m forever grateful.” His mocking tone went over Victoria’s head.
“Did you doubt it? No one can hold a candle to you in bed. Shall we go to my house tonight so I can show you how well you please me?”
“I’ll come to you after I finish at the gaming tables,” Jack said. “Leave the servants’ entry unlocked. I can see myself up to your room.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Victoria purred throatily. “Don’t be late.”
For some unexplained reason, Jack could muster scant enthusiasm for Victoria’s bold invitation. A few days ago he would have welcomed with eagerness a few scintillating hours in Victoria’s bed. Now he hoped he could rise to the occasion.
The play proved lucrative and Jack won several hundred pounds. He couldn’t recall when he’d been so successful at gambling—he’d never won enough to live comfortably. Perhaps he wasn’t cut out to be a gambler, he thought as he pocketed his winnings and excused himself. For the second time in as many days, Black Jack Graystoke admitted to excesses in both drink and gambling and thought seriously about giving them up, which frightened the hell out of him. Something was happening to him and he didn’t like it, not one damn bit.
Was this Lady Amelia’s doing? he wondered as he collected his cape and walked out into the raw night. Since that fateful day the family ghost had chosen to haunt him, his life hadn’t been the same. Didn’t Lady Amelia know it was much too late to redeem him? He had already ransomed his soul to the Devil.
Deciding he needed to clear his head, Jack sent his coachman home and walked the short distance to Victoria’s house, the invigorating air making him see things precisely as they were. He needed Victoria’s money, yet the thought of having Victoria as a wife chilled him as effectively as the cold night air. Jack wasn’t certain he believed in love, but there should be more to a relationship than lust. And lust was all he felt for Victoria, though truth to tell even that was beginning to pall. What would it be like after a few years of marriage to her?
Marriage wouldn’t change him, Jack decided. He’d still have a mistress or two, still gamble, still drink, still find amusement in unlikely places. And Victoria would discreetly carry on her own affairs of the heart once their passion cooled, which it undoubtedly would. The picture was unappetizing, yet Jack could find no alternative to his pressing need of money.
All that thinking gave Jack a massive headache and an aversion to bedding Victoria tonight. If he went to her now, in this state of mind, he would do neither of them justice. Hoping she would forgive him his lapse, Jack turned back in the direction of Graystoke Manor.
Moira felt well enough to go downstairs and explore the house the following day. With Jilly’s help, she dressed in her plain dark serge and walked from room to room, discovering the charm and faded grandeur of the rundown mansion. At one time it must have been spectacular, she reflected. It could still be dazzling once restored to its former elegance. But of course that would take a considerable fortune, which Jack did not possess.
Jack discovered Moira in the reception hall perusing the
Whitcomb’s rout was a bore, Jack thought as he made his way to the gaming room. He abhorred the crush of people, but the gaming tables looked promising. Most of the men engaged in gambling were playing for high stakes and could affordit. If his luck held, and he felt it would, he would go home tonight with enough blunt to pay for Moira’s wardrobe.
“I decided to forgive you.”
Jack turned at the sound of Victoria’s voice, composing his face into a smile. “I’m forever grateful.” His mocking tone went over Victoria’s head.
“Did you doubt it? No one can hold a candle to you in bed. Shall we go to my house tonight so I can show you how well you please me?”
“I’ll come to you after I finish at the gaming tables,” Jack said. “Leave the servants’ entry unlocked. I can see myself up to your room.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Victoria purred throatily. “Don’t be late.”
For some unexplained reason, Jack could muster scant enthusiasm for Victoria’s bold invitation. A few days ago he would have welcomed with eagerness a few scintillating hours in Victoria’s bed. Now he hoped he could rise to the occasion.
The play proved lucrative and Jack won several hundred pounds. He couldn’t recall when he’d been so successful at gambling—he’d never won enough to live comfortably. Perhaps he wasn’t cut out to be a gambler, he thought as he pocketed his winnings and excused himself. For the second time in as many days, Black Jack Graystoke admitted to excesses in both drink and gambling and thought seriously about giving them up, which frightened the hell out of him. Something was happening to him and he didn’t like it, not one damn bit.
Was this Lady Amelia’s doing? he wondered as he collected his cape and walked out into the raw night. Since that fateful day the family ghost had chosen to haunt him, his life hadn’t been the same. Didn’t Lady Amelia know it was much too late to redeem him? He had already ransomed his soul to the Devil.
Deciding he needed to clear his head, Jack sent his coachman home and walked the short distance to Victoria’s house, the invigorating air making him see things precisely as they were. He needed Victoria’s money, yet the thought of having Victoria as a wife chilled him as effectively as the cold night air. Jack wasn’t certain he believed in love, but there should be more to a relationship than lust. And lust was all he felt for Victoria, though truth to tell even that was beginning to pall. What would it be like after a few years of marriage to her?
Marriage wouldn’t change him, Jack decided. He’d still have a mistress or two, still gamble, still drink, still find amusement in unlikely places. And Victoria would discreetly carry on her own affairs of the heart once their passion cooled, which it undoubtedly would. The picture was unappetizing, yet Jack could find no alternative to his pressing need of money.
All that thinking gave Jack a massive headache and an aversion to bedding Victoria tonight. If he went to her now, in this state of mind, he would do neither of them justice. Hoping she would forgive him his lapse, Jack turned back in the direction of Graystoke Manor.
Moira felt well enough to go downstairs and explore the house the following day. With Jilly’s help, she dressed in her plain dark serge and walked from room to room, discovering the charm and faded grandeur of the rundown mansion. At one time it must have been spectacular, she reflected. It could still be dazzling once restored to its former elegance. But of course that would take a considerable fortune, which Jack did not possess.
Jack discovered Moira in the reception hall perusing the
Similar Books
