Page 13 of Ten Ways to Ruin


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“Yes, sir.”

“What is this about, Riley? That is the second one this week.”

Riley shrugged. “I’ve never seen it this bad, King. The man with that dreadful cocked hat two nights ago was almost blatant about it.”

“Toss those two out before I lose any more money.” The man cheating two nights ago had caused Simon to create a new policy that all men remove their hats and leave them on a table as they enter the gaming room. Most gentlemen removed their hats anyway, so the rule was for the few lower-class men that didn’t always abide by gentlemen’s rules.

Simon returned to his frustrating figures and finally added the numbers correctly, but not to his satisfaction. All week his numbers had been down from his regular profits. Hell’s usual clientele tended toward the bored upper crust due to the subscription and guest fees. Lately, a few had entered the gaming room dressed in lower quality clothing, far from the dandies he was used to seeing.

He would alert his men to watch the men dressed less fashionably for the next week. A part of him wondered if Hardy might be involved in an attempt to get Simon to sell. But it had been Hardy who encouraged Simon to open Hell ten years ago after winning a substantial sum at Hardy’s gaming hell. His friend had always embraced the competition even if their clientele differed.

Closing his books with a sigh, he rose and stared down at the gaming room again. He wished a certain petite blonde would take a risk and come to his establishment to gamble. He almost laughed with the idea of Miss Drake entering Hell. While ladies did join their husbands or lovers here, never would she endanger what was left of her reputation just to have a bit of fun.

What was wrong with him? He’d never thought of Emma in such a manner. Well, perhaps a passing thought, but any man would. She had the face of an angel with her light blond hair, pert little nose, and pale blue eyes. If a man could get past her visage, there was her body, which would keep any man up all night. Generous breasts and curves in all the right places. He shook his head.

He couldn’t think of Louisa’s sister in such a base manner. A mistress was what he needed. A widow out of mourning long enough to miss having a man in her bed. A widow would keep his mind off a woman he could never have without the worry of a husband discovering them. Lady Huntley’s ball would make excellent hunting grounds.

SIMON WATCHED AS MRS. Evelyn Ackerman danced with Stanton on Lady Huntley’s dance floor. It was her first Season out since the death of her husband just over a year ago. She had caught his eye when she’d accompanied her husband to Hell a few times. There had always been a passion in her light brown eyes that he wanted to explore. His only concern was the way she glanced up at Stanton with desire. Simon might be too late.

“They have been lovers for the past month.”

Simon glanced down as Miss Drake walked past him with a grin on her face. Had he heard her correctly? “Well, there is always you then.”

She faltered and then increased her pace away from him. He could only imagine the high color that must have tinted her cheeks.

He returned his attention to Mrs. Ackerman only to see her slip out to the terrace, followed by Stanton only moments later. Miss Drake’s information seemed to be correct tonight.

“Perhaps you should consider Mrs. Sherburne. Rumor has it that she is out for a new lover,” a whispered voice sounded behind him.

The slight aroma of lavender drifted around him, alerting him to the identity of the person behind him.

“I don’t usually return to a woman who spurned me for a lover with a title.” If he turned around, she would no doubt walk away. “And why the sudden concern over who will be next in my bed?”

A light laugh brought gooseflesh to his arms.

“Hardy a concern, sir. I thought you should know Mrs. Ackerman’s interest was elsewhere.”

“And Mrs. Sherburne?”

“Just letting you know she is available.”

“And you?”

“Definitely not available,” she whispered with a swish of silk skirts.

He chuckled softly as Emma Drake strolled away from him. But now, he couldn’t think of anyone else. Damn her! Why was she suddenly getting under his skin and sending lurid thoughts to his mind? He didn’t take innocents to bed. And she was one of the most innocent women in the room.

Still, he couldn’t help but turn and watch the gentle sway of her hips as she walked out of the room.

Emma breathed in deeply as she walked toward the ladies' retiring room. A small giggle escaped. What had come over her to speak to him in such a manner? She didn’t even like the man. Still, talking with him had been exciting, and that was what this Season was supposed to be about.

“Oh, Miss Drake, there you are,” Lord Fairchild said with a broad smile. His bald head seemed exceptionally shiny tonight. Almost as if he oiled his scalp. Perhaps he did. “I do hope you will save a dance for me.”

“There may be one dance left near the end of the night.” Emma smiled at the older man. She prayed her mother would wish to leave before then, so Emma wouldn’t need to dance with him. Before her enhanced dowry, Fairchild hadn’t paid her the slightest attention.

“Excellent. I shall look forward to our dance, Miss Drake.” He bowed and returned to the ballroom.

Emma finally reached the ladies retiring room and breathed a sigh of relief as she noticed Susan preening in the mirror.

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