Page 21 of Ten Ways to Ruin


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He had to be honest that the balls and company of most of the ton suited him. Many of the men in Society were already acquaintances due to their visits to Hell. The ladies weren’t half bad, especially the widows. But he could do without the innocents and their machinations for marriage. At twenty-eight, he was not ready to settle down quite yet.

Having lost his desire for company, he returned to Hell and went straight to his bedroom. He looked in the mirror and winced as he touched his nose. Maybe Hardy did break it after all. Seeing the light purple coloring around his nose and chin, he would be an awful sight for dinner at Harry’s tomorrow. Thankfully, Harry had said it would be just the three of them dining together.

Chapter 6

“What do you think, Susan?” Emma asked as she looked at her reflection in the cheval mirror. The black wool trousers and jacket fit, except the waist of the trousers needed a slight alteration. The blue brocade waistcoat added a nice touch of color to the ensemble.

“You still look like a lady.” Susan walked over to Emma and took the white cloth from around her neck. “And you have no idea how to tie a cravat.”

Emma watched in amazement as her friend quickly wrapped the cloth around her neck multiple times and then fashioned a perfect knot. “How did you learn that?”

“Four brothers, half of whom still cannot tie their own cravat,” Susan commented as she walked away to look at Emma from a distance.

“Thank you. I need a hat. No man would leave his home without one.”

“I have a couple in my bag.” Susan rummaged through her small valise before pulling out a slightly crumpled black cap. She placed it on Emma’s head.

Emma nodded enthusiastically. “Perfect!”

“Now you look like a boy.” Susan took a bite of a biscuit. “How are you going to get into Hell if you look like a boy, not a man?”

She had no wish to tell Susan that she’d had the same thought since glancing in the mirror. “I have the guest fee. And I’m quite certain a man like Kingsley only cares about the money.”

“It is a lot of money just to gain admittance, Emma. Perhaps we should go to another gaming hell that doesn’t charge a fee.”

“No,” she replied quickly. A few days ago, she might have agreed with Susan, but now retaliation was all she wanted for Kingsley’s arrogant behavior toward her. Not that Susan could know of that. Pulling the wool over his eyes would be a great accomplishment. She might even boast about her charade in a week or two, only to him, of course.

“Why not?”

“I would feel safer at Hell than another other gaming hells in town. If something happens, at least I know I could go to Mr. Kingsley for assistance.” Hell would freeze over before she asked that officious man for help.

Susan walked around Emma, scrutinizing the lay of the clothing on her. “What about the boots? Will you be able to manage them for an evening? It would be dreadfully embarrassing to stumble as you walk into the gaming room because your boots were too big.”

“They are fine. Only a little bigger than my shoes. I can stuff a handkerchief in the toe of each boot.”

“Excellent. Now how do you propose to get out of the house dressed as a boy?”

Emma had been considering this dilemma all day. “I won’t. You will help me dress in the carriage. I already told Mamma that you and I would attend a musicale at Mrs. Smithers’s home while she has dinner with Lady Huntley. You will have your coachman bring you here with your valise, so you must tell your mother you plan to stay the night. If you arrive here after seven, Mamma will have departed. Then we shall leave for our night of fun.”

Susan pressed her lips together and frowned as if she were attempting to find some error in Emma’s plan. “What time will your mother be home from her dinner?”

“Well, after midnight, usually closer to two.” Assuming she drops by Lord Hammond’s home for a brandy and something else.

Finally, Susan relaxed and smiled. “I think that might work, then.”

“It will. And we will have a grand adventure at Hell.”

“Yes,” Susan muttered, staring at the floor. “I suppose we shall.”

Emma could see the fear in Susan’s eyes. “You’re not regretting your decision to accompany me, are you?”

Susan shook her head quickly. “Of course not. This was my idea.”

A rap on her bedroom door stopped her from questioning her friend further. “Yes?”

“Miss,” a footman said, “Your mother wanted me to remind you that the duchess invited you both to dinner tonight. You will leave in two hours.”

“Thank you. Send Mary up in fifteen minutes.”

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