you’re here, or shall we just—”
“This is beyond belief,” Dolph snarled, turning to glare at Jack with his much-admired blue eyes. “I told you I would make good on that pin. There was no need for you to go about flaunting it in public.”
Jack nodded, unmoved. The reason he had gone to the trouble of winning everything out of Dolph’s pockets last night, and then suggesting the pin as collateral, was so he could go about flaunting it, after all. “I believe what you said was, ‘Take the damned thing and be done with it.’” He reached over to adjust Sir Joshua Reynolds’ portrait of his father. The old marquis hadn’t quite managed a smile even for immortality. Thank God his wife had been imbued with sense of humor enough for both of them. “Or do I err?”
“Bastard,” Remdale grunted, then pulled a bulgingleather purse from his pocket. “Here.” He tossed the thing onto the table.
For a moment the marquis was surprised. “Where did you come up with the blunt?” Twenty-four hours ago, Dolph had been completely to let.
“None of your damned affair, Dansbury. Where’s the pin?”
Jack casually pulled the diamond from his pocket and examined it. “Hm,” he mused, “Uncle Geoffrey paying your gambling debts, now?”
Dolph’s jaw clenched. “Give me the pin.”
Jack tossed it to him. “In the future I suggest you not gamble with family heirlooms. Uncle Geoffrey seemed none too pleased to have it escape his clutches.”
Dolph flushed, his face becoming the blotchy red which characterized Remdale rages. “You dog,” he hissed. “I should call you out over this.”
That sounded promising. If there was one thing experience had taught him about the Remdales, though, it was that they didn’t begin fights they couldn’t win. Not without a considerable push. But Jack would be pleased to push Dolph, or better yet, his uncle, all the way to hell.
Behind him, Peese scratched at the door and entered with his breakfast tray.
Jack’s eyes lit on the bowl of marmalade, and on an impulse he snatched up the bowl and dashed the contents into Dolph Remdale’s face. “Will this convince you to call me out?”
Dolph sputtered and stumbled backward, swiping at the sticky orange jam running down the front of his fine coat. “You damned blackguard!”
“So?” Jack returned, examining his nails. “I asked if you were going to call me out.”
Dolph glared at him, uneasiness abruptly vying withthe fury on his face. Marmalade dripped down his perfect Roman nose, and he angrily wiped at it. “I’ll do worse.” He shoved past Jack and the silent Peese. “I’ll ruin you. You will regret this.” Remdale stomped down the hallway and out the front door.
“Blasted coward,” Jack said calmly, looking after Dolph and licking marmalade from his finger.
“My lord?”
Jack turned to his butler. “Yes, Peese?”
“Was that why you wanted breakfast?”
The marquis snorted and replaced the bowl on the tray. “Would that I possessed such powers of premonition.” He headed out the door, already anticipating his next encounter with Lilith Benton. Her brother would know her schedule for the evening. “Have the tray sent up to my chambers, if you please. And have Benedick saddled.” He’d promised to assist William Benton with purchasing a new mount, and there would be several very expensive ones at the auctions today. Antonia was partial to black Arabians, something he would mention to the young cub. “As long as I’ve been dragged out of bed at this ungodly hour, I may as well try to get something accomplished.”
The butler looked down at the orange globules spattered over the expensive and elegant Persian carpet, and sighed. “‘Something accomplished’?” he muttered. “What does he call this?”
Vauxhall Gardens was a carnival of competing noise. In daylight, the pleasure gardens were uncrowded and quiet, one of Lilith’s favorite places. In the evenings during the Season,
“This is beyond belief,” Dolph snarled, turning to glare at Jack with his much-admired blue eyes. “I told you I would make good on that pin. There was no need for you to go about flaunting it in public.”
Jack nodded, unmoved. The reason he had gone to the trouble of winning everything out of Dolph’s pockets last night, and then suggesting the pin as collateral, was so he could go about flaunting it, after all. “I believe what you said was, ‘Take the damned thing and be done with it.’” He reached over to adjust Sir Joshua Reynolds’ portrait of his father. The old marquis hadn’t quite managed a smile even for immortality. Thank God his wife had been imbued with sense of humor enough for both of them. “Or do I err?”
“Bastard,” Remdale grunted, then pulled a bulgingleather purse from his pocket. “Here.” He tossed the thing onto the table.
For a moment the marquis was surprised. “Where did you come up with the blunt?” Twenty-four hours ago, Dolph had been completely to let.
“None of your damned affair, Dansbury. Where’s the pin?”
Jack casually pulled the diamond from his pocket and examined it. “Hm,” he mused, “Uncle Geoffrey paying your gambling debts, now?”
Dolph’s jaw clenched. “Give me the pin.”
Jack tossed it to him. “In the future I suggest you not gamble with family heirlooms. Uncle Geoffrey seemed none too pleased to have it escape his clutches.”
Dolph flushed, his face becoming the blotchy red which characterized Remdale rages. “You dog,” he hissed. “I should call you out over this.”
That sounded promising. If there was one thing experience had taught him about the Remdales, though, it was that they didn’t begin fights they couldn’t win. Not without a considerable push. But Jack would be pleased to push Dolph, or better yet, his uncle, all the way to hell.
Behind him, Peese scratched at the door and entered with his breakfast tray.
Jack’s eyes lit on the bowl of marmalade, and on an impulse he snatched up the bowl and dashed the contents into Dolph Remdale’s face. “Will this convince you to call me out?”
Dolph sputtered and stumbled backward, swiping at the sticky orange jam running down the front of his fine coat. “You damned blackguard!”
“So?” Jack returned, examining his nails. “I asked if you were going to call me out.”
Dolph glared at him, uneasiness abruptly vying withthe fury on his face. Marmalade dripped down his perfect Roman nose, and he angrily wiped at it. “I’ll do worse.” He shoved past Jack and the silent Peese. “I’ll ruin you. You will regret this.” Remdale stomped down the hallway and out the front door.
“Blasted coward,” Jack said calmly, looking after Dolph and licking marmalade from his finger.
“My lord?”
Jack turned to his butler. “Yes, Peese?”
“Was that why you wanted breakfast?”
The marquis snorted and replaced the bowl on the tray. “Would that I possessed such powers of premonition.” He headed out the door, already anticipating his next encounter with Lilith Benton. Her brother would know her schedule for the evening. “Have the tray sent up to my chambers, if you please. And have Benedick saddled.” He’d promised to assist William Benton with purchasing a new mount, and there would be several very expensive ones at the auctions today. Antonia was partial to black Arabians, something he would mention to the young cub. “As long as I’ve been dragged out of bed at this ungodly hour, I may as well try to get something accomplished.”
The butler looked down at the orange globules spattered over the expensive and elegant Persian carpet, and sighed. “‘Something accomplished’?” he muttered. “What does he call this?”
Vauxhall Gardens was a carnival of competing noise. In daylight, the pleasure gardens were uncrowded and quiet, one of Lilith’s favorite places. In the evenings during the Season,
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