A Beginner's Guide to Rakes (35 page)

“No. Two thousand.”

Oliver leaned toward her. “The next … You’ll be short for a few days, but I certainly don’t want any solicitors hanging about, for all our sakes.”

“Oh, very well. Wait here.”

“The next what?” Cameron queried, pouncing as soon as Diane left.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come now, Haybury. This is the first day of our partnership. It’s certainly not the time to begin keeping secrets.”

It
did
seem like a very good time to punch Cameron in the jaw. Oliver closed his eyes for a heartbeat. This was for Diane. There was no other reason he would tolerate having such a self-concerned leech in his presence. “The funds from the … investors arrive at irregular intervals. It’s been over a fortnight, so the next allotment should be here soon.”

“Then it’ll be time for you to give me another two thousand pounds.”

“Not immediately. This requires some subtlety, you know, unless you’d care to end up at Newgate with us.”

The color left Cameron’s cheeks, and for a moment Oliver thought he’d pushed too hard. Vague worries were one thing; threat of prison was another. He motioned at one of the chits for a bottle of wine.

“It’s a fair trade, don’t you think?” he went on. “A bit of subtlety in exchange for two thousand quid a month?”

The earl poured himself a full glass of wine. After he’d finished off half of it, his color began to return. “If I’m risking prison, I want more reward.”

“I told you, if no one notices anything odd, by the end of the year you’ll be up to three thousand a month. After that, who knows?”

“It all sounds delightful, but I haven’t seen a penny yet.”

At that very opportune moment Diane walked back into the room, a book in her hands. “Here you are, Anthony,” she said, handing over the tome. “
Robinson Crusoe.
You said it was Frederick’s favorite, and I wanted you to have it.”

“I don’t want—”

“Open it,” Oliver murmured.

“Oh. Oh. Well done, then.” He opened the cover, and his eyes actually widened before he slammed it closed again. “What do we do now?”

“We enjoy our luncheon, and then we part company for a few days.”

“No. I want to be seen wagering here. And I want everyone to see that I’m welcome at The Tantalus Club.”

Oliver sent a look at Diane, who lifted an eyebrow at him. “Diane,” he said, “I’d like to sponsor Lord Cameron for membership. Until that decision is made, he’ll be my guest here.”

“Very well. But you must follow the rules, Anthony.”

“Yes, I know, I know. Subtlety. I am the soul of subtlety and discretion, I assure you.”

After quite possibly the longest luncheon of his life, Oliver walked Cameron outside, lent the earl his carriage for the ride home, and sent the villain on his way. For God’s sake, he’d played all-night games of whist that had left him less exhausted.

“Oliver, please meet me in my office,” Diane said from the crowded foyer, then retreated into the club’s depths again.

The half-dozen men crossing through sent him swift glances full of everything from knowing cynicism to outright amusement. She’d made it clear early on that she wanted the world to think they might be lovers, but the fact that she was still willing to be seen that way left him oddly hopeful. Unless it was only that she wanted to be seen snapping her fingers and having him jump.

She sat behind her desk, making entries in a ledger as he entered the room. “You summoned me?” he said, dropping into the chair opposite her before she could tell him to remain in the doorway or some such thing.

“You can’t keep paying him like that,” she said, closing the book and leaning both elbows on it. “Aside from the fact that I dislike the idea of giving Anthony any money at all, two thousand pounds is a fortune.”

“He’s already asking for the next two thousand. But as I told you, I can afford it. A gift to you.”

“It’s one thing to … convince you to lend me funds when I know I’ll be repaying them. Which I am, I hope you’ve noticed.”

“I have noticed. And you’re doing so more quickly than necessary.” And almost as if she was anxious to be finished with him. “After the Season, you may need additional cash. You shouldn’t—”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Are we back to that again?” he asked, torn between amusement and frustration.

Diane grimaced. “No. It’s just that I feel I’ll owe you. And if I’m not to repay you for the money you’re giving Anthony, I’ll owe you … me.”

“If only it were that simple to win you,” he commented under his breath.

“Beg pardon?”

This was a conversation he should not be having with her. Not until he’d deciphered the odd tightness he felt in his chest when he recalled their conversation of last night. Yet there he was, jaw flapping.

“I will admit that since our last conversation I have become aware that there is a certain common villainy both in what I did to you and in what Cameron is currently attempting. Perh—”

“Do tell,” she interrupted, folding her fingers together and resting her chin on them. “Care to elaborate?”

“No, damn it all.” He scowled at her.

Emerald eyes gazed back at him steadily. “I want to trust you, you know.”

Oliver stood. “Then do so.”

“I’ve had two years to consider all the reasons why I shouldn’t. And then there is you, who apparently didn’t have a single thought about me until two months ago.”

Oh, that was bloody well enough of that. Stalking around the desk, he grabbed her by the front of her black gown and pulled her to her feet. Then he lowered his mouth over hers. “I thought about you every day,” he said roughly, lifting her in his arms and setting her down on her desk. “Every damned day.”

The scent of her, the taste of her, aroused him more than any other woman he could ever conjure. And while she might not be able to admit that she needed his help, from the way her fingers tangled into his hair, holding him close against her, she at least wanted him.

Oliver shoved her skirt up, bunching it around her waist. Then he unfastened his trousers, pushed them down to his thighs, and drew her forward onto his cock. Diane moaned as he entered her, her ankles locking behind his hips. He pumped into her hard and fast, listening to her moaning breaths.

If only they could solve all their arguments this way. Though if she would allow him into her heart as readily as she did her body, perhaps they could. He kissed her again, hot and openmouthed. Her body began to tense around his, and he sped his pace. He wanted them to come at the same time, to share that moment. And he wanted her to remember how well they fit together—physically at least.

With a breathless moan she shattered, and he met her in that white-hot haze of pleasure. Panting, he rested his head against her shoulder while she did the same with him. Perfection. He wanted to give it another word, as well, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he’d earned it from her.

“I’m giving him the money,” he said, not moving, not wanting her to leave his embrace. “And we’re getting rid of him.”

“Very well,” she returned, a sigh in her voice.

“I’m not going to be so easy to do away with.” Slowly he kissed her neck, ran his mouth along her throat, felt her pulse shiver beneath his lips. “I give you my solemn word, Diane: I am not going to run this time.”

Chapter Twenty

I
am not going to run this time.
He hadn’t apologized directly, but he had acknowledged that he’d done something that needed to be corrected. And he seemed intent on doing precisely that.

The next evening Diane stood in the doorway of the Ariadne Room to watch her former brother-in-law play faro. He didn’t seem to have much more skill at it than his late brother. Quite possibly the only thing that had held Anthony back from complete ruin was the fact that until now he hadn’t had any discretionary funds to spend.

“How much has he lost so far?”

The low drawl behind her sent pleased shivers down her spine. Sternly she ignored them. After all, Oliver could claim that he wasn’t running, but he hadn’t asked her if she even wanted him about or not. Of course at the moment that answer would have been a very strong “yes”—all the more reason to wait until everything was finished and she’d regained her senses.

“From what I can tell,” she said quietly, “he’s down approximately eighteen hundred pounds.”

“That’s why I had Manderlin sit at his table; Jonathan’s a fair player, so Cameron won’t think the club’s somehow cheating him or the table.”

“How do you know he’ll keep losing?”

“I’ve seen him play. He doesn’t have the gift for it.” Oliver’s hand brushed against her skirt.

“The gift to be able to wager without losing everything in one’s possession?” she asked, fighting the urge to lean back against him.

“The gift to know when to stop playing.”

“My lady.”

Startled, she turned to see Juliet approaching in her crisp black and yellow livery. Whatever had caused the lady butler to leave her post at the busiest part of the evening couldn’t be anything good. “What is it, Juliet?”

“Lady Dashton is outside. She and her friends have signs, and they’re chastising anyone who enters the club.”

“‘Chastising’?” Oliver repeated, putting an exaggerated hand to his throat. “Good heavens.”

“You may not care for Lady Dashton’s opinion, but there are those here who do.” Diane strode through the club, Oliver and Juliet at her heels. She’d known she would have to deal with Lady Dashton and her Ladies of Moderation, but the timing certainly couldn’t have been any worse.

“Might I suggest that a stampeding herd of horses would disperse the crowd?”

Diane stifled a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind. But you stay back, Oliver. If there is anyone the Ladies of Moderation could possibly dislike more than me, it’s you.”

Jenny was already waiting in the foyer. “Several gentlemen have stopped on the drive and then realized they have business elsewhere,” she reported. She turned her gaze back to Oliver. “You should not go out there.”

“So I’ve been told.” He inclined his head. “I think I’ll go see how my good friend Lord Cameron is faring. I’ll give you a word of advice you likely don’t need: do not make them your enemies, Diane, or they’ll never let you or your club be.”

She lifted an eyebrow. No, she didn’t need that advice, but at least it was good advice. “Don’t let Anthony out of here with any blunt, or he won’t need us.”

Oliver flashed her a grin. “Point taken. Good luck.” He slipped back into the depths of the club.

“Arrogant man,” Jenny muttered.

“At least he’s attempting to be helpful,” Diane noted, favoring Lord William Jensen with a smile as he entered the foyer, frowning. “My lord.”

“That devil of a woman threw an egg at me,” he grumbled.

“I’ll see to it, my lord.”

“Make certain you do.”

Well, that was rude. And he’d just moved a step toward being uninvited from the club. Something else for her to see to later. “Jenny, can you join the crowd of ladies discreetly?”

“
Mais oui
. Give me one minute.” Genevieve headed toward the servants’ entrance at the side of the house.

“If I may ask,” Juliet said, “what are you going to do?”

“Use them to help the club.”

Diane finished counting down the minute, gave Jenny a few extra seconds, then pulled open the front door and stepped outside.

Two dozen ladies marched back and forth across the foot of her drive. Several of them held lettered wooden boards over their heads. In the scant lamplight reading them was no easy feat, but she managed to make them out. Her favorite was the one that read: “A bawdy house by any other name is still a bawdy house,” followed by “A woman’s place is in her own home.” Either they didn’t realize or they didn’t care that this
was
her home. And it was home to all her girls as well. Her new, very unusual family.

“Lady Dashton,” she called.

The viscountess, leading the chant of “Shame, shame, shame” directed at the passing coaches, turned to look at her. “Lady Cameron,” she said in a carrying voice. “I’m surprised you have the courage to show your face.”

“It seems we have a disagreement,” Diane returned easily, continuing her approach.

“Of course we do. You invite our husbands into this place, take their money, and tempt them with women.”

The small crowd jeered.

“Well, I could tell you that we take very little of their money compared to what they lose to each other, or I could say that none of them are allowed to touch my employees—but clearly you don’t wish to listen to that. So instead I have a proposition for you.”

“You couldn’t possibly say anything that I care to hear.”

“On Sunday afternoons once a month, I shall open The Tantalus Club to you. Any money made during that time will go to the charity of your choice. Or you may use the premises to hold luncheons or other charity events on that day. Unless you’re only paying lip service here and you don’t actually wish to accomplish anything useful.”

“How dare you?”

“I shelter a number of well-bred, well-educated young ladies who by chance had less fortunate lives than you and I. That is how I dare.”

“So you claim. I have my doubts.”

Diane closed the distance between her and the viscountess and lowered her voice. “I wouldn’t turn away a chance to do good works, my lady. Particularly when the alternative is standing about in the dark doing nothing but shouting at people and accomplishing nothing.” She glanced up at the sky. “And with rain on the way.”

“Our protests wouldn’t end tonight.”

“And if you succeeded, then The Tantalus Club would close and all these gentlemen would simply go elsewhere to lose their money and be tempted by every pretty girl they come across. And you wouldn’t have a monthly charity event to host.”

“You think to bribe me, then?”

Diane inclined her head. “I think to allow me to continue with my club and keep my employees protected, and to do that I am willing to give over my club and part of my earnings to the causes of your choice. That isn’t bribery; it’s compromise for our mutual benefit.”