A Beginner's Guide to Rakes (36 page)

Lady Dashton looked at her for a long moment. “I think you will see to it that I will look very poorly if I refuse this compromise.”

“If you wish to continue this disagreement, you will find me a formidable opponent,” Diane said carefully. And one who literally couldn’t afford to retreat.

“And they say only men are qualified to negotiate treaties and govern countries,” the viscountess commented, brief humor touching her expression.

“Who says that? Men, I would imagine.”

“Very true. I would only agree to this … compromise in exchange for ten hours on the first Sunday of each month.”

“Six hours. My ladies deserve the evening to themselves.”

The viscountess blew out a breath. “I won’t meet with you here to discuss it.”

“Perhaps we could have luncheon at the Preston Bakery on Friday.”

“Very well.”

Diane stuck out her hand. Oliver wasn’t the only one who’d learned how to decipher people. She’d made an overture to which Lady Dashton had just agreed. If the viscountess refused to shake hands, she would look petty. And that wouldn’t sit at all well with her.

A moment later Lady Dashton’s gloved fingers loosely gripped hers, then lowered again. “I have to speak to my group,” the viscountess said.

“Of course. I shall see you on Friday.”

After some muttering and chattering the Ladies of Moderation began to disperse, and Diane turned and went back inside The Tantalus Club. A few minutes later Jenny met her at one side of the Demeter Room. “Well done,” she said with an uncharacteristic smile. “They had no idea which way to turn. Refusing to fund a charity? Oh, they could never.”

“And hopefully, now that they’ll be patronizing the club, they’ll stop protesting our existence. We may even see their husbands now.”

One challenge met, but none of her maneuvering would matter if they couldn’t drive Anthony Benchley away from the club. Because Oliver was correct; neither of them had a spotless reputation, and Anthony was a blood relation to the former owner of Adam House. Even if Frederick
had
legitimately signed over the property, she might not have been able to keep it. If her fraud was discovered, she’d be fortunate if she didn’t end up transported.

She gazed across the full dining room, darker men’s jackets interspersed here and there with lighter-colored silks and muslins. A woman could take weeks and weeks to plan a single soiree at her home; at The Tantalus Club, she held a soiree every night.

For the better part of two years she’d planned, and there it was. The clamor of mostly male conversation, undercut by the clink and clatter of plates and utensils. With the club going so smoothly and some of the other girls learning how to manage things, she didn’t need to be in attendance every evening, but she enjoyed being there. She liked being reminded that she’d accomplished what she’d intended. And deep down, she liked knowing that wagering was finally earning her money. Not only her, but all the ladies in her employ also.

Through the door on the far side of the dining room came the other thing she was enjoying much more than she planned. Oliver caught sight of her, smiled, and began making his way through the crowd of tables. He was the one part of the equation that she couldn’t control, and while initially that had annoyed her mightily, now she found it oddly exhilarating.

“Langtree told me how you dealt with Lady Dashton,” he said, taking Diane’s hand and lifting it to kiss her knuckles. “You are brilliant, you know.”

“It seemed a bit more practical than having her trampled by horses.”

“And whatever money you lose to the charity, you’ll likely more than recoup by admitting the stiff chits’ husbands.” His grin deepened. “Of course you realized that, though.”

“I did.” Belatedly she withdrew her hand from his. It wasn’t that she worried what the other gentlemen would think. It was more that the contact felt too comfortable. She liked touching him, liked when he touched her, and he was far too distracting. “How is Anthony?”

“He left the faro table, and is now attempting roulette. At this rate he’ll have spent the two thousand pounds within the hour.” Reaching out again, he straightened her sleeve. “The trick will be to get him to spend more than that.”

A shudder ran through her. She’d done her best to ensure that no man lost more money than he could afford, but some of them seemed terribly determined to be ruined. Considering that Anthony first was unmarried, with no wife to drag down with him, and second was attempting to steal her club from her, she felt less sympathy for him than she might have otherwise. But she still didn’t like it.

“How much money are you going to pay out to him before we close the trap?” she asked, nodding as Jenny joined them.

“I presume he’ll ask for another two thousand tomorrow, if not tonight. Once he’s spent most of that, we’ll have him.”

“Then let’s get on with it.”

“Well, it would proceed more quickly if I played directly against him, but that would also make him suspicious. So at the moment we’ll have to rely on his own lack of skill and judgment. It will take more time, but he won’t be able to say we drove him to it.”

“Are you going to offer him credit?” Jenny asked.

“The club’s limit is two hundred pounds,” Diane returned. “I don’t want him thinking he can go beyond that and simply keep running up his debt.”

“If he doesn’t feel that touch of panic that he’s lost more than he can repay, he won’t follow the path we want,” Oliver agreed.

Diane took a breath. “Shall we go have a public argument then, Jenny?” she asked.

Genevieve glanced at Oliver. “
Oui.
I believe I have a topic in mind.”

The topic didn’t matter, but if he was what Jenny wanted to discuss, Diane could hardly avoid it. Leaving her position at the back of the room, she slowly made her way through the club’s members toward the Ariadne Room. While she didn’t relish chatting with Anthony, it was important that he realize his activities were not going unnoticed.

Yes, it was all very elaborate, and yes, there were simpler, more brutal ways to be rid of her former brother-in-law. But her keen sense of irony preferred that he meet his demise through the perils of wagering. Frederick had never learned his lesson, not even at the end. Perhaps Anthony would do so while he still had a chance to alter the way he lived his life. If he didn’t, well, at least she would have given him the opportunity to do so.

Anthony had small stacks of money on several different numbers and both colors of the roulette table, a sure sign that he had no idea where the best odds lay. She stifled a sigh as she stopped beside him. “How is your evening?” she asked.

“Bloody wretched,” he snapped, cursing as the ball stopped on a number he hadn’t chosen. “You need to make certain my luck runs more favorably.”

Diane frowned. “That is entirely up to you and to luck,” she returned. “All my tables are honest. I wouldn’t be in business if it were otherwise—or if anyone thought otherwise.”

“This isn’t good enough, then.”

And there it was. “I beg your pardon?” she whispered. “I am not going to fund your wagering. I paid you what you asked. I can’t do any more than that.”

“I believe you can. I’ve lost nearly two thousand quid in one night. Multiply that by what, two hundred other men here this evening? You can damned well afford to give me another two thousand pounds. And I want it.”

“Not everyone loses, and not everyone loses to the bank. The greatest amount of money simply changes hands.”

“That is not my problem. And
your
problem is whether you’re willing to risk this establishment.”

“Fine. But I can’t give you two thousand pounds every day. That’s absurd. People would notice.”

“Which people?”

Diane put a hand to her throat. “I can’t tell you that. And keep your voice down. Come by for breakfast tomorrow and I’ll get you what I can.”

“Diane.”

Jumping, she turned around to see Jenny approaching. “Don’t mention any of this,” Diane hissed at Anthony, then went to see her friend. “Ready?”

“Has he asked for more money?”

“I’m to give it to him at breakfast.”

“Then let’s discuss that man, shall we?”

“This is only supposed to
appear
to be an argument. I don’t want to actually fight.”

“Neither do I. I only want to know why you’re trusting him now.”

Diane frowned, making a helpless gesture with her hands. “He had a very good idea, you have to admit.”

“That only means he’s an expert at being devious. I don’t trust him.”

“I may not trust him with my heart, Jenny, but he’s proved himself several times over in the past weeks. Do a pointing thing.”

Jenny jabbed a finger at her. “I feel like a complete idiot. Do you love him?”

That stopped her for a moment. To hear it said so directly … “I find him extremely aggravating.”

“That’s not an answer. Shake your head.”

Diane shook her head. “It’s not an answer I can give you, regardless.”

Scowling, Genevieve gazed at her. “He’s very quick-witted. I’ll grant him that. But you need to figure out what it is you want of him. Aside from his money.”

“He offered to put me up in my own wing at Haybury Park after the Season.”

“What? What did you tell him?”

“I told him that I didn’t want to be that near him.” She took a breath. “Because I
do
want to be that near him. It’s very complicated.”

“Not as much as you think.” Giving a hostile wave of her hands, Jenny took a step closer. “Decide who you’re punishing, and why.”

“I thought you hated him.”

“I hate him because you hate him. We are friends, yes?”

Just barely, Diane kept from smiling. “Good friends.”

“
Bon.
Lord Cameron has been watching, so be afraid of me now, and I’ll see you upstairs for tea later.”

“Thank you, Jenny.” Grimacing, Diane backed away, then turned toward the roulette table just in time to see Anthony swiftly look away. “Will you excuse me, Anthony? That French b—” She stopped herself, swallowing. “I need to see to my books.”

“You will give me what I want in the morning, yes?”

“I will try.”

“No. You will do so.”

“Anthony, I told you that this is very complicated. I need to be careful.”

“Do what you need to. I’m not a part of your scheme. But I want my two thousand pounds, or you’ll be meeting with my solicitors by the afternoon.”

“No!” She put a hand over her mouth as if to stifle her protest. “No solicitors,” she said much more quietly. “Very well. I’ll manage it.”

“Good.”

Once Diane left the club for the privacy of the Adam House sitting room, she allowed herself to grin. Tomorrow was going to be quite fun.

A knock sounded at the half-open door. “You could be on the stage,” Oliver’s low voice came. “Magnificent.”

She sat in the chair beside the table lamp. Very likely she should be asking how he managed to get past Langtree, but he’d made it into her home so many times now that questioning his methods hardly seemed worth the effort. “I’m to give him the money during breakfast.”

Dropping into the chair by the fire, Oliver stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “What were you and Miss Martine pretending to argue about?”

“None of your business.”

“Ah. Me, then. Not so pretend, was it?”

He looked magnificent taking his ease before the fire, relaxed and still alert, a lion waiting for its prey to move into reach. “What am I going to do with you?” she murmured, half-smiling.

“What do you want to do with me?”

“I’m divided fairly evenly between wanting to kiss you and wanting to strangle you,” she returned.

“I consider that an improvement.” Oliver kept his gaze on her. In the dim firelight that reached her from halfway across the room, her black hair looked almost bronze, her skin warm and enticing. “I want you.”

“And I want to know what you’ll do when you’ve tired of having only one woman. Or when you decide that you like me more than you’re comfortable admitting.”

He was already well past that point. “I told you that I’m not running.”

“You’re assuming that I want you to stay.”

“I believe according to our agreement you have two years each to repay my loans to you.” Something abruptly occurred to him, and he frowned. “That’s why you’re making additional payments, isn’t it? To be rid of me.”

“I didn’t expect the club to be going so well already. You were to be a shield and a lure. You’ve succeeded at the first part, and you’re no longer necessary for the second.”

“Necessary,” he repeated. “That’s an interesting word.”

“Is it?” she returned coolly. “How so?”

She wasn’t going to give him an inch of space to maneuver. But if she meant to justify having him about because he was “necessary” to the club, then once they disposed of Lord Cameron he would likely be asked to move away. Then he would only see her when he visited the club and only until the end of the Season. Haybury Park had been his property for only two years, and he couldn’t spend the autumn and winter in London just because he was mooning over some chit who didn’t want him.

Uneasiness ran through him. It went against every part of his being to leave himself exposed, but he’d begun to realize that until he could make things right with her they would never be able to move forward. And he wanted to move forward. With her.

Slowly he stood and went over to where she sat. “I said we would talk after we were finished with Cameron,” he said, sinking down onto his haunches directly in front of her, “but I’m finding that your jibes about ridding yourself of me are beginning to draw blood.”

“You aggravate me. I haven’t made a secret of that.”

“Yes, I know, but I’d hoped you were jesting about your relentless dislike. Perhaps you were, and perhaps you’re serious, but I’m not willing to sit and watch another chance pass me by.”

She shifted, her gaze narrowing. “Oliver, I’m tired. I don’t—”

Diane started to stand, but he put his hands on her thighs and kept her where she was. Wanting to touch her, Oliver curled his fingers into the black material of her skirt.