Page 61 of Redemption of a Marquess

“Nae. I asked what he meant, but he was very cryptic. I knew he was lying. He is a terrible person.” The memory of his words fired her blood. “I almost wish I had killed him when I hit him with the poker. I wanted to.”

Valan returned to his seat. “Be glad you didn’t. We might very well have been forced to flee to France or, worse, the Colonies.”

She thought of her and Grey in France, attending dances and drinking coffee every morning. “Would that have been so terrible?”

“Indeed, it would,” he said with such conviction that her heart hurt. He must have read her expression, for he said, “Not because I don’t enjoy your company, but I would not have you a wanted criminal.”

“Really?” she asked. “My company is not so terrible?”

A strange light entered his eyes. “Not so terrible, at all.”

“I promise, I will not be any more trouble,” she said.

She thought his gaze had shifted to her mouth, then he dazzled her with a bright smile and said, “I can’t imagine how you will manage that,” and she decided she’d been wrong.

Her heart twisted. This would be the last time she would see that sparkle in his eyes. She ducked her head and looked at the chess pieces. “Thank you for making me your ward. I have been very happy.”

“Then I am happy, as well,” he murmured in a strange voice.

Jeanine nodded and dared not look at him for fear she would cry. She moved her rook. He reached for his rook, and her gaze fixed on his long fingers as he moved his chess piece across the board in line with her queen.

“Really, Grey,” she said with disdain. “That move is too obvious. If I didn’t see that I would be a real ninny.”

“And you are no ninny.”

She pinned him with a stare. “You’re planning a trap.”

His eyes widened in mock innocence. “Me? Never.”

Jeanine studied the board. If her calculations were correct—

A shadow fell across the carpet to her right and she looked up and gasped. Lord Gordon stood in the doorway.

“How very cozy the two of you are,” he said with mock sweetness.

The word ‘cozy’ sounded more like ‘coshy.’ Was he drunk?

“It seems I was closer to the mark with you two than even I realized,” he said.

‘Seems’ came out ‘sheems’

Valan rose. “The hour is late, Gordon. Why are you here?”

Lord Gordon stepped into the room and listed a little to the right. “You know full well why I’m here.” The words were more of a drunken growl than English.

“I am distressed that the footman who should’ve shown you in didn’t announce you,” Valan said.

“Never mind him,” Lord Gordon snapped. “How dare you tell everyone that she rejected my suit. You can’t stand that I bested you twenty years ago. The Morning Star,” he sneered the name. “You flout Society, yet they welcome you with open arms.” His eyes snagged on the letters sitting on the desk. He took two steps to the desk and snatched up the envelopes. “So, your little whore came straight to you.” He threw them onto the carpet. “All the better. Servants will whisper about how they saw the letters in your library.” His bloodshot eyes swung onto Jeanine. “I thought you were different.”

Anger swept through her. She leapt to her feet. “Different from what?”

“I believe he is referring to an old friend of mine,” Grey said.

“Old friend, that’s rich,” Lord Gordon said. “She was just another one of your whores.”

“Being drunk is no excuse for being a liar,” Grey said in a voice so cold that it sent a shiver down Jeanine’s back.

Grey started toward him. Lord Gordon jammed a hand into his coat pocket and whipped out a pistol. Grey froze. Jeanine drew a sharp breath.