Page 36 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

Ludo’s breath caught.

B.

Felicity Bunting was known to her friends and family as Bunty.

Surely… Surely she wouldn’t. He looked up, his gaze moving at once to where she was speaking to Tommy, and their eyes met. She smiled at him, a shy smile that made colour bloom on her cheeks, before she turned away again.

Hope rose in his chest. Ridiculous and foolish, for it was far more likely the B in question was a bored wife or a merry widow. There had been enough of those in the past to know it was the most obvious answer. Yet he wanted it to be Bunty, even as he knew he ought not go if it were. Ludo checked his watch. There was an age to wait yet, but he wanted to be sure he knew where to go, and that they were not observed. She was a nice young lady. Innocent.

If they were caught….

If they were caught, she would have to marry him.

He set down his glass and went in search of the library.

Bunty seethed with fury. She’d been having a perfectly nice evening—a miracle in itself—when she had taken herself off to the retiring room to freshen up. There, she had heard the Ratched sisters whispering together. The older sister, Jennifer, was already married. The younger, Sylvia, was not, which was something Sylvia intended to rectify this evening. Bunty was only astonished they were working together. The two of them were rivals in all things, and she thought Sylvia a fool to trust her sister to help her. That was neither here nor there, however. The fact was, they intended to trap Lord Stanthorpe into marriage, and Bunty would put a stop to it.

“A Christmas wedding,” Sylvia said, giggling. “And he’s as rich as Croesus, Jenny. Richer than your sweet William.”

Bunty left, rushing from the room before they came out from behind the screens and saw her. She pushed her way through the crowd until she found Lord Stanthorpe again. He was right where she’d left him earlier, thank goodness.

“Tommy!” she said, grabbing his arm and towing him away from a conversation with Aubrey Russell. “Sorry,” she added over her shoulder to Aubrey as she dragged Tommy across the room.

“Whatever has got you in such a pet?” Tommy asked, anxiety in his eyes.

“Oh, Tommy, the Ratched sisters have hatched a scheme. If you get a note from someone signed B, do not believe it is from that pretty Belinda Lovelace you were so taken with. It’s a trap. If you go to the library, as the note suggests, you’ll find Sylvia Ratched waiting for you, and no doubt her sister and friends will burst in moments later.”

Tommy blanched, the colour leaving his face so suddenly it might have been funny in other circumstances.

“Lud,” he said faintly.

“Quite so,” Bunty said, only too appalled by the vision of good-hearted Tommy married to such a shallow, mean-spirited creature as Sylvia Ratched. “So you must not go.”

Tommy shook his head, his tumble of golden curls bouncing at the movement. “Indeed not. In fact, I’ll go one better. Dull affair, at any rate. Was going to take Aubrey to my club.”

“A splendid idea, Tommy.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, Bunty, and I shall be on my guard from now on.” He reached out and took her hand, shaking it vigorously. “Thank you, Miss Bunting. I shall never be able to repay you. Never.”

Bunty smiled at him. “You’re welcome, Tommy. Now, do run along.”

She watched him hurry away and then turned. Bunty was not by nature a heroic creature, but such a vile scheme ought not only to be thwarted but exposed, even if she was the only witness. Taking a breath, she turned and headed towards the library, intending to give Miss Sylvia Ratched a piece of her mind.