Secrets of a Viscount (15 page)

“
That’s not a trick!” Lady Vessey exclaimed.

“
A trick?”

“
I thought you had a trick and were trying to give me the signal,” Simon said with a shrug.

She had no idea what he was talking about and handed her cards back to Edmund, noting the unusual look in his eye.

Edmund handed the cards to Simon. “Care to shuffle, Appleton?”

Simon took the cards and scooted his chair back from the table a few inches. Odd the foot stayed firmly in place.

Isabelle was certain her eyes had nearly just bulged, and Edmund’s slight grin confirmed they had indeed. His lowered lashes confirmed Isabelle’s other suspicion: it was
his
foot! Why the devil was his foot on top of hers when Lady Vessey was so openly flirting with him? Surely he didn’t think to try to reassure Isabelle that he still planned to keep his earlier promise by...by...such an indecent gesture!

She caught his gaze and gave her head a slight shake, not enough to draw anyone’s attention, but enough to tell him she wanted him to stop this nonsense. He didn’t. In fact, he was the one now moving his toes. She could feel them rubbing her ankle. It took every ounce of control she possessed over her body not to cast up her accounts or run screaming from the room. There was one thing that was indisputable: she was going to have to ring for a bath tonight.

Simon finished shuffling the cards and began dealing.

“
Perhaps before we begin, the two of you should work out a better signal,” Lady Vessey suggested.

“
I’m sure they’ll be fine, my lady,” Edmund said, killing any hope that Isabelle was about to get a reprieve from his daring foot. As if to make sure of it, Edmund quickly drew a card to start.

Simon shrugged and waited to take his turn.

“Say, you don’t mind if we join you, do you?” Giles asked from the door. Without waiting for an answer, he walked in and took a seat in one of two vacant chairs by the window.

Behind him, Sebastian sauntered in, creating a wave of unease completely unrelated to the sweaty, unwanted foot on top of hers. What was he doing here? She had to bite her tongue to keep from asking that very question as he made his way to the chair next to Giles.

“We’ll play the winner,” Sebastian said.

“
That should be amusing,” Lady Vessey said, licking her lips.

Everyone took their turn and it was time for Isabelle to go. She picked up the top card and quickly dropped it on the table without even bothering to look at the cards in her hand.

“Dropped like a lady who knows what she wants,” Sebastian commented.

Isabelle stiffened. Was he mocking her? Surely it hadn’t escaped his notice just whose foot it was on top of hers under the table. Her skirts were full, but from where he sat, he had an unobstructed profile view of where everyone’s feet were positioned under the table. Did he think it was amusing that both Simon and Edmund were showing her affections, of a different variety of course? “If I know it’s not the one I’m looking for, there’s no reason to hold onto it.” A smile pulled on her lips. “You might recognize that tactic, I did learn it from you after all.”

Silence encompassed the room as the impact of the words she’d just spoken rocked Isabelle to the core.

Lady Vessey seemed to be the only one who didn’t seem to understand her meaning other than perhaps a superficial game tactic and she took her turn.

Edmund sat still a moment longer as a shadow passed over his eyes. He reached forward to grab his card, simultaneously removing his foot from Isabelle’s.

Isabelle would have sighed with relief, if not for the inner tension that had recently gripped her and held her captive. If Sebastian dared to come to her room tonight she was going to brain that man and she’d use the Bible if she must to do it.

Chapter Twenty-Three

It was everything Sebastian could do to keep an impassive face as he watched the players at the card table—particularly Belle. She was rather fetching when she was unsettled. He closed his eyes. He wasn’t here to think of how fetching Belle was to him. He’d agreed to help her find a suitable husband and that’s what he needed to be concerned with. Not what she did to him.

Beside him, Giles let out a deep exhale and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling as he was often wont to do when there was nothing else in the room that interested him.

Sebastian would have to send the man an entire barrel of whisky after this party to show his appreciation for Giles allowing him to join without permission from Lady Cosgrove. Come to think of it, that was probably enough of a token of appreciation in itself since Giles was no longer expected to sit in the drawing room with a gaggle of debutantes. Or his mother. Apparently that was another caveat of this party, Giles’ mother, though not a very prominent and engaged guest, had taken to coercing Giles to spend time with her whenever she could manage it.

At the card table, the game continued. Cards, that is, not the game that had previously been being played under the table. Odd. When had Lord Kenton retracted his foot? No matter. Hopefully it was enough of a hint for Belle to become daring enough to try the same tactic with Simon.

Or not.

She stared at her cards in a way that might suggest they held the answer to some secret riddle. Her feet both firmly planted on the floor in front of her. What he wouldn’t give to understand the workings of her mind. Did she not understand now was a prime opportunity to capture Simon with her wiles?

His gaze shifted to Simon. If it were possible, he looked even more unsettled than Belle. What the devil—
Giles.
Blast it all, he hadn’t thought of that. Actually, this was probably the best time for Belle to distract the man and capture his attention.

Sebastian cleared his throat.

Belle ignored him and took her turn.

He cleared it again. Louder this time.

She cast him a scowl over her shoulder, then turned her attention back to the game.

Not so easily put off, Sebastian put his fist to his mouth and prepared his body for the internal abuse it was about to take at the account of Belle’s stubbornness and his will to capture her attention.
Cough, cough, cough. Hack! Hack! Hack!
With his free hand he started banging his open palm against his chest.
Cough, cough! Hack, hack!

“
Choking on a biscuit over there, Belgrave?” Lord Kenton asked.

Sebastian shook his head.
Cough, cough.
Blast it all, now his coughs were genuine!

A firm hand smacked him on the back, startling him to silence.

“You’re welcome,” Giles muttered.

Sebastian looked over to Belle. She was staring right at him, scowling. Good. Not the scowl, of course, she needed to get rid of that post haste. He cocked his head to the side and shot an overdone smile at her.

She pursed her lips.

He lifted his eyebrows and stretched his smile wider.

Her nostrils flared and it was all he could not to laugh.

He sent a pointed look to Simon, still smiling like a simpleton.

The corners of her lips pulled apart in a smile that rivaled a grimace, but now wasn’t the time to point that out. He nodded his approval, then crossed his ankles and tapped the sides of his boots together.

Her smile vanished and she gave him a quick shake of her head as if to say,
“Absolutely not!”

He nodded slowly and looked back over at Simon.

Scowling at him once more, she turned her eyes away from him to pay attention to the game.

Sebastian knocked his boots together again.

Belle seemed not to notice.

Sebastian hated to be an annoyance, but he wasn’t above it. He lifted his fist back up to his lips and cleared his throat, a warning.

Belle swallowed visibly and slid her slippered foot closer to her suitor’s, stopping merely an inch away.

A little further.
But she didn’t move it further, prompting Sebastian to clear his throat once more.

“
Perhaps you should pour yourself a drink,” Lady Vessey suggested.

“
Indeed,” Belle agreed, a genuine smile turning her lips.

Sebastian knocked his boots together—his last warning.

Belle licked her lips and reached for her card, simultaneously lifting her foot and bringing it down on top of Simon’s.

The young buck’s entire body jerked and eyes lit up as if he were truly startled. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he murmured. Then as if he’d just solved a complex equation, said, “Trick!”

***

Isabelle didn’t know who she wanted to brain more: Simon or Sebastian. She didn’t have the trick, whatever that was.

“I don’t think she has the trick, old chap,” Sebastian said easily, pulling a chair up to the table. He took a seat. “Would anyone object if I help Miss Knight?” When nobody spoke within a half-second after the words were out of his mouth, he tossed her cards toward Simon, saying, “Why don’t we start this hand over.”

Twisting his lips, Simon collected everyone’s cards and shuffled.

Meanwhile, the insufferable man Isabelle had once foolishly been excited to be eloping to Gretna Green with moved his chair even closer to her.

“
Must you sit so close?” she all but hissed.

“
If I’m to help you, I must,” he said, the gleam in his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t just talking about cards and for a reason she couldn’t explain, the understanding sent her body into a panic.

“
I don’t need help.”

“
Yes, you do,” Sebastian said.

Trying to ignore the flames that were now licking her face, she turned her attention to Edmund who for some reason was dealing. He, too, had a different gleam in his eyes. It wasn’t dangerous or predatory as the one she’d glimpsed earlier. It was almost what she’d classify as knowing. Good gracious. Was it possible that he could see that Sebastian unsettled her? She frowned. No, Sebastian didn’t unsettle her. His closeness did. There
was
a difference.

Edmund finished dealing the cards and she reached to pick hers up at the same time as Sebastian.

He pulled his hand back and allowed her to pick up her cards.

Fanning them in front of herself, she was painfully aware that Sebastian was leaning even closer to her than he had been before. She moved her hand to the left so he could see her cards better and quit moving so close.

He encircled her wrist with his strong fingers and pushed her hand back squarely in her direct line of vision.

“
Fours,” he whispered in her ear.

Isabelle looked at her four cards, two of which were fours. “What do I do with them?”

“Collect them.” He put his right arm along the back of her chair, bringing him that much closer to her.

She resisted the urge to elbow him and picked up a card from the deck: a five.

“Discard it,” he whispered.

She was about to carelessly fling it onto the table when suddenly something brushed her ankle. Sebastian’s foot if she had to guess. She tossed the card down and immediately pulled her foot away, making the dratted man smile—and seemingly move closer. Something she didn’t think was possible.

Looking for a distraction, she caught sight of Simon’s face. Whether his lips were pursed because Giles was in the room or because Sebastian was on the edge of mauling her, she’d never know, but she did have her suspicions.

She played her next round. Barely. Sebastian was so close and his masculine scent of pine and leather so strong, she could barely read the number on her card. Actually, she was so shaken she was fairly certain that her last card hadn’t had a number at all, but she couldn’t say for sure. Sebastian’s thigh pressing against hers was too much of a distraction.

She closed her eyes and willed herself not to sigh in vexation. A moment later it was her turn to draw again. Bracing herself for whatever bold move Sebastian might make when she took her card, she reached forward. As expected, Sebastian did something, but not at all what she’d expected. He’d somehow managed to get his dratted foot under the hem of her skirt and was pressing the side of his foot against her calf, slowly moving it up and down.

Even through her silk stockings, her calf burned. Burned? No, it was scorching! Flustered, she dropped her card and tried to clear her thoughts.

No such luck. Her attention was fully stolen by the strange, tingly sensation in her calf. She clenched her jaw and would have yanked her leg away from him if she didn’t think it’d draw attention.

A delicate cough jarred her from her thoughts. She flushed and tried her best to meet Edmund’s eyes.

“Your turn, Isabelle,” he said with a quick wink.

A wink?
Isabelle wanted nothing more than to bury her head in her hands and pray for the chaos to stop. She picked up her card and quickly dropped it.

“
See the difference?” Sebastian whispered in her ear, his lips were so close she could almost feel them on her skin.

“
The difference?”

He trailed his foot up her calf with a deliberate slowness that made her entire body feel like it was about to combust. Oh, there was definitely a difference!

Swallowing, she nodded. How was it possible someone’s foot—especially
his
—could have such an affect on her?

“
That’s what you need to do,” he said, withdrawing his foot. To the room his words were merely a confirmation that she knew how to play the game now, but she took his meaning. He was suggesting she do the same foot-on-leg action to Simon.

Isabelle stared down at her cards, at a loss. How could she possibly touch Simon the same way? She certainly didn’t want to.

Sebastian straightened in his chair, presumably to give her more room to...to... Well, she knew what he expected her to do even if she couldn’t form the thought without feeling a wee bit nauseous.

Tentatively, she kicked off her slipper and choked down the bubble of unease—or was that a surge of bile—that was lodged in her throat, suffocating her. She took a deep breath and extended her foot forward.
Oh, blast, what am I doing? I cannot possibly touch him.

Edmund picked up a card and carelessly threw it down almost as if he hadn’t even looked at it. Likely he hadn’t, he seemed to be fixated on Isabelle in the most odd way. Isabelle pushed Edmund from her mind and focused her attention on Simon. He reached forward to snag his card and she moved her foot...

Oh, please save me!
She couldn’t do this. She pulled her foot back and grabbed her card, not sure if it was even her turn or not. She held her cards in front of her and leaned closer to Sebastian as if she were trying to show him her hand and ask for advice.

He leaned forward. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

She put the fan of cards directly in front of her lips and turned her head to whisper in his ear. “I can’t.”

“
Try.”

“
No.” She pulled the cards as close to her mouth as possible. “Perhaps you should since you’re so skilled.”

***

Skilled?
Sebastian almost snorted. He wasn’t skilled. There was no skill involved in touching someone with your foot. Sighing, he crossed his arms and leaned back. Tonight, he vowed. Tonight he’d go to her room again and show her exactly how to touch a man if need be.
If need be?
There clearly was a need. Who knew the brazen young girl he’d once known was so innocent and naïve?