Page 42 of Make Mine a Marquess

She pressed a hand to her chest. “It is.” Although she didn’t believe it was due entirely to the effect of a drug. Mostly from the man standing before her.

“You need to rest. Any side effects will wear off by tomorrow morning.”

“Poor Clarice. She will have regrets tomorrow. Will she recover?”

“She’ll be fine but will have a raging headache. I don’t suppose we will see her until later in the day.”

“I shall check on her.” Helpless to deny herself, she offered him a small smile, and the tension in her body eased incrementally.

“Before I leave, I want to ask you something else.”

Now would he ask to kiss her? What was wrong with her? It had to be the drugged wine.

“Do you know how to play backgammon?”

Once again, she was surprised at the sudden change of topic. “Backgammon?”

“It’s a challenging game, but quite fun. Mr. Adian and I often played overseas. I’d like a new opponent.”

“I’ve never played. I won’t be the skilled opponent you desire.”

“I disagree. Anyone can learn, but you are as intelligent as you are beautiful. I believe you’d make the perfect player.”

A tingling of awareness made her senses spin. He thought her intelligent? And beautiful? Both compliments were perilous.

“Don’t worry, I don’t expect to play tonight. The mesmerist provided enough entertainment to last the evening.” A slight smile remained on his lips. She wanted to reach up to trace the full bottom lip. To touch the maddeningly attractive divot in his chin.

“Tomorrow afternoon, then?” he asked.

She should say no. Make an excuse. But she was also aware that he’d swept her from the mesmerist’s clutches and then returned to check on her after learning her wine had been laced.

“Shall I come for you?”

She nodded, helpless to do anything else.

…

Landon was furious. He’d wanted to strangle the mesmerist the moment the man had confronted Phoebe. Her lovely face had paled, and she’d frozen in fear. He’d recognized the flash of panic for what it was.

She had secrets. Just as he had.

Clearly, she dreaded confessing something under the mesmerist’s spell.

Landon had suspected a hallucinogenic the moment Clarice Madison had begun sputtering confessions. He didn’t believe in the mesmerist’s abilities. But the entertainment had been devised by Willard before Landon’s return, and he hadn’t bothered to change it. That was a mistake.

His thoughts returned to Phoebe. What could she be hiding?

What else was she frightened to reveal?

The more time he spent with her, the more layers he discovered. For someone he’d intended to use solely for revenge, he found her more and more fascinating. Either way, his goals hadn’t changed. He’d have what he’d craved since the shipwreck—he’d make Willard pay for every ounce of suffering he’d caused, and Miss Phoebe Dawson was the key to that.

Chapter Twelve

Phoebe woke hungry. The stress of the evening had passed, so she felt more like herself. She dressed quickly and found Beatrice in the breakfast room. The sideboard was loaded with breakfast delights—platters of eggs, toast, ripe strawberries, and perfectly cooked and fragrant bacon. Her mouth watered at the sight and smell. She picked up a plate and joined Beatrice at the sideboard. Phoebe added two pieces of bacon to her plate, then one more for good measure.

“Lord Landon asked me to play backgammon,” Phoebe said. Luckily, they were both early risers this morning and no one else was near to hear.

Beatrice didn’t even look her way. Instead, she added eggs to her plate. “And you said yes to join him, of course.”