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“We’d love to have another player. Join us, Clifton. We want to hear what it was like to barter with the damn frogs.” Yardley’s smug smile bespoke his confidence that Roddy would do his bidding.
“Is it true what they say about French women?” Breville waggled his eyebrows.
Damn it. Why did Roddy have to show up now of all times? He and his team had plans for tonight. Dash had to get rid of him and in a way that demonstrated that Dash had no interest in pursuing their connection. Having his friend on the Continent had been helpful, but his reappearance was wrong for many reasons, especially attempting to reestablish their connection.
Dash considered starting a brawl except that Roddy would join in like their university days when they went looking for a good fight. Roddy was probably also under some misguided notion that Dash needed his help. While Roddy was learning the art of negotiation, Dash was honing his own methods of “negotiating.”
Dash scanned the room, his brain spinning for a plausible solution when one of the club’s “hostesses” smiled at him, her kohl-lined eyes transmitting her openness to possibilities. Dash grinned back and nodded to the stairs, which led to the upper rooms made available for a gentleman to slake all his needs. He was very familiar with the rooms.
Dash walked away from the table hoping that Roddy would follow. The brilliant scholar and diplomat showed his usual tenacity and tagged behind Dash.
“You’re coming with me?” Dash hated the hopefulness in Roddy’s tone, and that his friend could revive Dash’s sense of decency.
“I’ve other plans.” And as if Dash had orchestrated the entire scene in advance, the voluptuous blonde with rouged lips and cheeks stood before him.
“My lord, it’s a pleasure.” The woman curtsied as if meeting in a ballroom, giving him a view down her revealing gown. Dash had no reaction to the displayed flesh. It might be the liquor or the memory of an innocent woman with lithe curves and hazel eyes that changed colors with her mercurial moods. An innocent woman he would consume with his darkness. He wanted her shielded from the cruelty and violence that were part of his life.
“What a lucky girl I am tonight to have the attention of two prestigious men.” She dipped another revealing curtsy to Roddy. She had been trained well to recognize titles. She was one of Haversham’s favorites, and her approaching two earls was no accident.
“Let’s be clear. I do not share.” Dash lifted her hand to kiss. “But I don’t think you’ll be sorry.”
“Well, it’s a disappointment.” The woman tittered. “Maybe another time, Lord Clifton.”
“Excuse us.” Roddy stepped between Dash and the prostitute, who smiled at Roddy despite his fierce stare.
“My God, I thought by now you’d be done with this sort of thing.” Roddy’s fair complexion grew ruddy.
“Sort of thing?” Dash snorted. “Pleasure in a woman’s arms?”
“Forget this woman. Come back to the house. We can crack open a bottle. It will be like old times.”
“Old times should be left where they belong—in the past. Don’t come looking for me again.”
“You don’t have to live like… Why are you doing this?” The bewilderment in Roddy’s voice affected Dash, making him want to share his secrets for a brief second with his childhood friend.
Dash shook his head. “Not everyone can achieve perfection in ascending to their title as you have done—a recognized diplomat and rising leader in Parliament.”
Dash didn’t only insert the knife; he twisted it. Roddy had suffered at the hands of his father, who had demanded perfection from his heir. At least Perdita was spared the criticism and abuse from her father.
“I’m not sure that I qualify for such high praise.”
Dash hated the way Roddy’s clear gaze darkened and his shoulders stiffened. Roddy had fought with his father for years, and Dash doubted they had ever reconciled their differences. Like Roddy, Dash never had the opportunity to tell his father what an immoral bastard he was.
Roddy bowed his head to the prostitute before his eyes met Dash. “Look for the invitation to the ball. You owe it to Dita to make an appearance.”
Damn Roddy. The man never quit. Perdita wanted Dash at her ball as much as Dash wanted to attend.
Roddy pushed his way through the men gathered at the hazard table. A smiling Haversham bowed formally before speaking to Roddy. With his back to Dash, he couldn’t see Roddy’s reaction to Haversham. The boxer was as skilled in dealing with polite society as he was with hookers, gang members, and boxers. Dash tried to convince himself that Roddy was too smart and too experienced to be taken in. Yet Roddy in his prestigious world might be unable to imagine the level of debauchery Haversham was capable of.
“Excuse me, my fair lady. I will return shortly.” Dash wasn’t sure of his plan when he reached Roddy and Haversham, only that he wanted Roddy away from the viper. Before he could get through the crowd, Roddy nodded and walked away.
Dash felt the tightness in his chest ease as he watched his friend stride outside into the wet April night. Now all he had to deal with was a prostitute who he didn’t want. And would report to Haversham every word spoken between him and Roddy.
And he thought the worst part of the night was the hundred he lost at the table. Now his nights would be plagued by memories of a woman who had ignited in his arms when he last touched her. A woman filled with passion for life and love. He hadn’t been in polite society since he acquired his title. How could he attend her ball and sully her pristine reputation with his very non-pristine reputation? Maybe it was lucky to be dealing with another treasonous bastard tonight. Maybe it would distract him from his thoughts of a certain blonde temptress. Maybe.
