How to Entice an Earl (17 page)

Their hostess floated forward, her gown a deep crimson confection that brought out the roses in her cheeks and looked extraordinarily well with her dark hair.

“Lady Madeline, Lord Gresham, what a pleasure to see you,” Lady Emily said, offering her hands to Maddie, and a short curtsy, which Maddie couldn’t help but see showed her bosom to perfection. A jolt of jealousy ran through her as she watched Christian notice. Of course it wasn’t as if he could help it, given that there was hardly anywhere else for the poor man to look.

“When Lady Madeline told me she’d be bringing an escort, I had no notion it would be you, Lord Gresham,” the widow said with a half smile. “I’ve been trying to persuade you to attend one of my little social evenings for months now but to no avail.” She turned to Maddie. “You must tell me your secret, Lady Madeline.”

How different this Lady Emily was from the one she’d encountered in Felsham’s, Maddie thought. Gone was the intelligent lady who loved to read, and in her place was this flirtatious siren. She’d known the other woman had a reputation for seductiveness, of course, but she hadn’t counted on her practicing her charms on Christian.

Hands off,
she thought as she smiled in what she hoped was a mysterious manner. “I don’t think there is any great trick. If you wish to know the truth, we are often at loggerheads with one another. Perhaps you are simply too agreeable.”

Something like respect flashed in the other woman’s eyes before she nodded. “Yes, I might have guessed Lord Gresham is keen on verbal and
other
sorts of sparring.”

Before Maddie could retort, Christian broke in. “We don’t wish to keep you from your guests, Lady Emily,” he said briskly, holding Maddie’s arm in a firm grip. She was annoyed at his interference, though she supposed it would not do to tear out her hostess’s hair before the party even began.

With a slight nod, as if she were ceding the point to Christian, Lady Emily went on. “I think the card tables are all filled up, so you’d be best with one of the parlor games. I believe the group with Lords Tretham and Bynes is about to begin a round of secretary.” She gestured to a table in the corner where a mixed group of ladies and gentlemen talked. Waving in the other direction, she went on. “And Endover’s is playing charades. I’ll leave the choice between the two up to you.”

With a curtsy, she left them alone to make their own decision. Maddie suddenly felt naked as the other partygoers watched them without bothering to hide their interest. She supposed it was unusual for new people to add to their numbers.

“Let’s get started,” Christian said in a low tone beside her. She was glad suddenly that she hadn’t tried to attend this party alone. Gratefully, she clung to his arm, drawing strength from his presence.

“Which do you prefer?” she asked, looking from Tretham’s group to Endover’s.

As an aspiring author—though it felt like ages since she’d concentrated on her novel—she was quite good at wordplay so she would feel confident enough with the group playing secretary, a parlor game that involved making up stories. And Tretham had been there on the night of Tinker’s murder. The Duke of Endover, however, was known to be a bit of a gossip, so he might be more forthcoming with details about Tinker’s interaction with the rest of the group.

“Secretary,” Christian said firmly. “It is unlikely that there will be any time for conversation during a game of charades.”

Maddie couldn’t argue with that logic, though she hoped that there might be time to speak to all of the assembled group before the evening ended.

“Secretary it is,” she said, allowing him to lead her to Lord Tretham’s group.

“I must warn you,” she added, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, “that I play to win.”

Patting her hand, Christian smiled. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”

*   *   *

“Before we begin, I shall go over the rules,” Lord Bynes said to the partygoers assembled round the table.

Christian had taken the seat to Madeline’s left, and she was flanked on the other side by Lady Mary Stokely, who was as silly a woman as ever he’d met. Still, he was grateful that Tretham was seated on the opposite side of the table from her at least. He was far too handsome for Christian’s comfort, and his flirtatious manner with Maddie had begun to grate on his nerves.

“I shall give you each a pencil and a piece of paper,” Bynes said, handing the sheaf of pages to Mrs. Lawless on his right. “You are each to write your name at the top of the page, and then fold it in half and place it within the hat, like so.” He demonstrated, and placed his paper within a battered top hat that sat in the middle of the table. If the fellow meant to explain every last detail of play it would take an hour for the instructions at least, Christian thought impatiently.

“Once everyone has placed his page into the hat, we will pass it round the circle and each person will choose a page. It goes without saying that if you choose your own, you should put it back and withdraw another.”

When everyone had received a pencil and written his or her name on the sheet, they set about folding them, and placing them into the hat.

Christian marveled at the ability of some of his fellow guests to write at all, much less their full names, given the amount of brandy they had already consumed. But he supposed writing while intoxicated was a skill needed for signing gambling vowels, among other things. Folding his own page, he dropped it into the hat, hoping that he was the only one who could feel the excitement emanating from Maddie. She’d been the first to put her own page in and now tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the game to advance.

“Now,” Bynes said, obviously taking his duties as game master much more seriously than his companions, who were giggling and in general not paying the man much heed. When they did not seem willing to stop their side conversations at his announcement, he cleared his throat and rapped upon the table. “Ladies and gentlemen, please pay attention.”

“We’re not in school, old chap,” Tretham complained, “you needn’t behave like a bloody prefect.”

Christian inwardly winced at the curse, but none of the ladies—Maddie included—seemed to be offended.

“I thought he preferred the role of naughty schoolboy,” said Mrs. Lawless, giggling, “caning and all that.” She was a blowsy widow whose gown left very little to the imagination. And she had clearly had far too much champagne.

Christian saw Maddie redden at the loose talk, and cursed himself for agreeing to bring her here. She had no business here with this lot.

“I say, Mrs. Lawless,” he said in an easygoing tone his soldiers would have known preceded a set-down. Reining in his temper, however, he let that be his only comment. It would not do to alienate the very people they hoped to get information from.

He had assistance, however, from an unforeseen ally.

“Indeed,” Tretham said to the widow with a raised brow. “We mustn’t let Lady Madeline think that we’re savages. Young unmarried lady and whatnot.”

Not taking offense, Mrs. Lawless merely giggled again, reinforcing Christian’s assessment of her sobriety. Or lack thereof.

“As I was saying,” Bynes continued, his annoyance at the interruption making him grow peevish. “Everyone should take a paper from the hat, and write his opinion of the person whose name is listed at the top of the page.”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“You may begin … now.”

If Bynes were hoping for a fevered rush of hands to draw out their pages, however, he was doomed to disappointment. The hat was passed from person to person in a very civilized manner, until everyone had withdrawn a name. And then silence reigned as they set about writing.

Christian opened his page and was annoyed to see Mrs. Suzanne Newsom’s name. He only knew her slightly and that was as a social acquaintance and not a friend. He could hardly say what he really thought, that she was pretty enough but had more hair than wit. Nor could he mention her tendency to carry on rather indiscreet flirtations with younger men. Frowning, he used the pencil to scratch the words “excellent dancer” beneath her name. Which was true enough.

He folded his paper back again and tossed it into the hat, his arm brushing Maddie’s as she put her own paper in.

The zing of sensation between them almost made him jerk his hand away. He stopped himself from hiding his reaction to the rest of the room, however. He had no problem with the other men in the room assuming there was something between them. Indeed it would be better for Maddie if they thought she was under his protection. Not as his mistress, which would put her beyond the pale, even with this set. But his response would hardly do that. He simply did not wish them to think she was without protection. Especially now that Linton was from town.

“Now,” Bynes said, drawing a paper from the hat. “The first name I draw is…”—he unfolded the paper—“Mrs. Lawless.”

“Well, Kitty,” Tretham said in an undertone, “you’d best prepare yourself for some scandalous flattery.”

“Oh, you.” Mrs. Lawless swatted Tretham with her fan. “I am prepared, Lord Bynes. Do your worst.”

“Mrs. Kitty Lawless.” Bynes read the paper to himself, and only the pinkening of his ears betrayed that the words on the page might be thought risqué. “Mrs. Kitty Lawless,” he repeated, “vigorous and insatiable.”

The men, except for Christian, guffawed, while the ladies tittered. Christian’s jaw tightened as he felt Maddie shift uncomfortably next to him. Glancing over at her, however, he saw that she was looking on with amusement. He hoped that only he noticed that her smile did not reach her eyes. It would not do for this lot to find enjoyment trying to make her progressively more uncomfortable.

“It is true,” Mrs. Lawless said with a wink at Maddie, “I do enjoy vigorous exercise. And am often quite famished afterward.”

“Yes, of course,” Bynes said, playing into the new game of indirection, his eyes going from Maddie to Mrs. Lawless. “Exercise. That’s what it means. And appetite. I vow I have seen Kitty eat quite a lot at one time. She has a most healthy appetite.”

But this only increased the laughter.

“Why don’t you continue, Bynes,” Christian said mildly, though he wanted more than anything to knock the other man senseless with his fists. “I believe we all know of the lady’s legendary appetites.”

With a shrug that indicated he thought Christian a spoilsport, Bynes nevertheless assented. “Yes, yes, of course,” he said. Turning to Mrs. Lawless, he asked, “Have you any notion of who would write such a fine compliment to you, Kitty?”

A hush fell over the table as Mrs. Lawless looked at each of the men sitting around the table. Even, to his annoyance, Christian. Then finally she stopped at Tretham. “I believe it was you, my lord,” she said with a firm nod.

But Tretham shook his head. “Sorry, old thing,” he said with a hint of regret. “It was not I.”

“Oh, pooh,” the redhead said with a moue of annoyance. Turning to Mr. Corley, she asked, “Was it you, Niles?”

“It was, indeed,” Corley said with a smug grin, leaving little doubt as to how he knew of the woman’s vigor and appetite. Bussing her on the mouth, he said, “How could you doubt me, m’dear?”

They went through two more rounds with Mrs. Newsom and Christian—his compliment coming from Bynes who called him a fine shot—which he was more than happy for the other men to know, considering.

“Now,” Bynes said, withdrawing another paper from the hat. “Lady Madeline, we come to you. Your compliment is”—he looked with a hint of fear at Christian before he began—“that you are a…”—he cleared his throat—“Tasty morsel.”

The words hung in the air, and Christian literally felt a red haze descend over his vision. Who the devil had had the temerity to write such a thing, right in front of him? He braced himself to rise, but stopped at the feel of Maddie’s hand on his arm. The table had erupted in a series of catcalls and giggles, and in an undertone she said to him, “Please do not make a scene. I need to make friends here.”

He prepared to defy her, but her tug on his arm stopped him.

“You promised,” she reminded him, and for that reason alone, he kept his seat. If he hadn’t he would have leaped over the table and throttled Tretham with his own bare hands. For he knew it had been Tretham who wrote it. No one else at the table had the bollocks to do it while he was sitting here next to Maddie. Looking across the table, he met the other man’s eyes and Tretham silently raised his glass. He would need to keep an eye out on that fellow. Christian knew that now. He wished he’d known it before he agreed to bring Maddie here tonight.

“Who do you think wrote that about you, Lady Madeline?” Bynes asked, once the furor had died down.

Christian watched as Maddie bit her lip and turned from gentleman to gentleman. Finally, her gaze stopped at Tretham. “Was it you, my lord?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

Christian was pleased to see that she didn’t blush as she said it. Didn’t reveal for one moment that the other man’s words had unsettled her. Because he knew they had. For all her boldness, Maddie was not so bold as she pretended to be. And he’d felt the tremble in her hand when she touched him a moment ago. But she wouldn’t reveal that to the room at large. Which made him incredibly proud.

Christian prepared himself to hear the other man accept his victory, but to his surprise, Tretham said, “It was not I, Lady Madeline. Though I heartily concur with the sentiment.”

Christian shared Maddie’s puzzlement. Why would Treth lie? he wondered. There could be little doubt that he had been the one to write it. No one else made sense. Though he supposed it
could
have been one of the others. Which meant he would have more than one man to speak to privately about inappropriate interest in Maddie. Mentally, he cracked his knuckles in anticipation.

“Was it you, Lord Bynes?” Maddie asked, breaking into Christian’s revenge fantasy.

“Wh-what, me?” Bynes asked, his eyes revealing that he was all too aware of Christian’s eye on him. “No! No! Good heavens, no!”

“You need not be so vociferous, darling,” Mrs. Lawless said. “Save the poor girl’s dignity.”