Page 11 of How to Best a Marquess

He’d done what was best for her then.

He wouldn’t cease now.

…

“Oh, Ellie. Did it have to be Hugh Vere?”

Ellie cringed at her younger sister’s words. It was after the evening meal, and Ellie sat on the window seat in Olivia’s bedchamber.

“I’m not happy with the turn of events,” Ellie said.

Olivia knew all about her troubled past with Hugh. Just like Ellie, Olivia had been surprised to learn of Ian and Grace’s decision regarding the club.

Olivia joined her on the window seat and took Ellie’s hand. At twenty-one, Olivia was two years younger. With her fair hair and green eyes, their coloring was different. Their features, however, were similar, although Olivia didn’t have freckles on the bridge of her nose. Where Ellie was concerned with the Raven Club, Olivia had a fondness for horses, riding, and adventure. On more than one occasion, she’d eagerly waited for Ian to return from a trip to Tattersall’s to examine the horses he’d purchased. Although Olivia didn’t race, she often talked of it, and it made Ellie worry. Horse racing was how their oldest brother had died, thrown from his mount on a treacherous track.

“It’s been five years. What is he like now? Has his appearance changed?” Olivia asked.

“Yes and no. He’s taller.” Ellie swallowed. “And bigger.”

“He’s fat?”

“No. Just…bigger.” Unbidden images of Hugh in the boxing ring returned. There wasn’t a pinch of fat on his torso. As for his height, Ellie had reached her full height by seventeen. Hugh, it seemed, was several inches taller since she’d last seen him.

“Why does he want the Raven Club?” Olivia asked.

“He has a preference for boxing. That’s where I first saw him. Bare-fisted, prizefighting in the back of the casino.”

“No gloves? Truly?”

“Yes.” Heat simmered in her veins, and she feared she’d dream of him in the ring tonight. Almost all of the pugilists wore gloves, but Hugh had stepped into the ring with Bear without them. She cleared her throat. “He also claims it is a good business investment.”

“He is a marquess now. They don’t dabble in trade.”

The only reason their brother owned the Raven Club was because he’d been tossed out of their father’s home and needed a means to survive. Ian, like Hugh, had been born a second son of an aristocratic family. Neither were supposed to inherit their family titles.

But unlike Ian, Hugh had been an officer when his father and older brother had died, leaving Hugh to ascend to the marquessate. He did not need the Raven Club for income.

So what were his true motives? She didn’t trust the Devil Marquess, not one inch.

“You should know that it was Grace who convinced Ian to hold the competition,” Olivia said.

Ellie was grateful to her sister-in-law. Grace understood a woman’s need to have more in her life than marriage, understood a woman’s ambitions of financial independence from a man. Grace had secretly managed the ledgers of a widowed milliner before she’d married their brother. After the wedding, she’d taken over handling the club’s ledgers.

“I would ask why Lord Deveril never married, but they say he prefers actresses over eligible young ladies,” Olivia said.

Ellie had heard the same. Still, she asked, “Where did you hear this?”

“In the ladies’ retiring room at Lady Holloway’s ball. It’s astonishing what women talk about after relieving themselves.”

“Olivia!” Ellie attempted to admonish her younger sister but ended up chuckling instead.

“Rumors say the head actress of Drury Lane was his paramour at one time,” Olivia said.

Ellie held up a hand. She didn’t want to hear more. The Hugh she recalled was young and earnest and affectionately loyal. He’d never flirted or danced with other ladies. Nor were there any whispers about transgressions or liaisons with seasoned actresses.

Until she’d found him kissing another lady.

Perhaps he’d been better at hiding his true nature then. Or he’d more recently begun to realize the delights of actresses’ off-stage skills?