Page 24 of How to Best a Marquess

Chapter Seven

What the hell is going on?

Hugh leaned from behind a corridor and watched as Brooks and Ellie emerged from the paneled room. Brooks carried his jacket, waistcoat, and cravat.

Hugh had seen workmen deliver furnishings to Ellie’s private gambling room. But they had departed a half hour ago. So what was Brooks doing inside with Ellie? And why was the man partially undressed?

An unfamiliar knot tightened in his chest. Ellie couldn’t possibly be having an illicit liaison with the burly man, could she?

Hugh had never understood why Ellie never married. She was lovely, and she came from a wealthy, titled family. If rumor stood true, she had a large enough dowry to attract a flock of the beau monde’s bachelors.

Hugh’s mother had insisted Ellie’s family had been tainted with scandal. But other men wouldn’t mind, not if they had Ellie to warm their bed each night along with her dowry.

Was that what Brooks was hoping for?

The knot in his chest began to burn.

Christ! Was he jealous? Since returning to London, he’d had his share of bed sport and had never experienced jealousy over a woman. And he hadn’t even bedded Ellie.

Not that he didn’t want to.

He knew she wasn’t immune to him, either. He’d seen the way she’d raptly watched him when she’d interrupted his calisthenics in the boxing room. Her gaze had licked over his skin like flame, her breasts had risen and fallen above her bodice, and it had taken every ounce of self-control not to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. When he’d kissed her in the shopkeeper’s back room, the heated moment had only served to whet his appetite, his fierce desire for her.

Brooks lowered his head to Ellie’s ear to speak, and she smiled and laughed. He’d only heard her laugh once since his return, and it had been brief.

The sound vibrated through him, leaving an empty hole in his chest. She used to often laugh for him.

Now she was gifting another with the pleasure.

Damnation.

He wanted her back. Her laugh, her smile, her intelligent conversation, her tempting kisses, her everything.

What had started as a competition for the club had turned into much, much more. The problem was she seemed excited by the competition and was determined not to lose.

And here he was…her adversary, a man intent on protecting her by besting her.

…

Ellie stood at the window in the upstairs office overlooking the casino floor. Every table was crowded that night, even the macao and loo tables, which were usually second to the faro, hazard, and roulette tables.

A boxing match was scheduled for the evening, and more gamblers would rush to the casino floor immediately afterward to wager their winnings. Hugh was not within sight, and she assumed he was overseeing the pugilists before they stepped into the ring.

Good. It would allow her time to conduct her business without his infernal interference.

Ellie spotted Lady Willoughby as soon as she set foot inside. Even with her simple blue half mask, Ellie recognized the pale blond hair and willowy figure. Brooks was standing by the door and allowed the lady to pass. Ellie had given Olivia a secret word in order to gain admittance, and Olivia in turn had conveyed it to Lady Willoughby.

Ellie waited a half hour before slipping on her peacock mask and leaving the room. She did not want to draw unwanted attention to the lady straightaway.

She approached Lady Willoughby by the roulette table just as the croupier cried out, “Twenty-eight black. The lady wins!”

Patrons shouted in dismay as the croupier collected their losses. Ellie slipped to the woman’s right. “Luck is with you tonight.”

Lady Willoughby turned. “Luck hasn’t been with me in a long time.”

The mask didn’t cover the woman’s entire face, and Ellie could see a new bruise on her right cheekbone. She had attempted to hide all the bruises with face powder, but up close, Ellie could tell. It had only been a few days since Olivia had told her of Lady Willoughby’s plight. Had her husband beaten her again?

Ellie’s fists clenched at her sides. She took a breath, counted to ten, and forced her fingers to relax. The last thing she wanted to do was frighten the woman upon their first meeting.