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James and Michael led him to an adjoining room where they left him with the clerk preparing the paperwork. Once done, James and Michael left with them both hurrying to the carriage that awaited them in the streets of Covent Garden. Darkness had fallen, and the only light spilled out of the gambling hall windows and from the one lantern the driver of the carriage carried.
“Do you think he’ll pay?” Michael asked as they climbed into the carriage, and James hastily lit the lantern that swung from the roof of the carriage.
“He will, given time; he must. Or in the end, we’ll have to report him.”
“Ruthless, James.”
“It’s necessary.” His voice was calm as he sat back and looked at his friend’s face. “If we’re too charitable to one customer, what’s to stop us being too lenient with them all? I won’t let us fall into bad ways.”
“So disciplined,” Michael laughed. “You remind me of one of my old school masters. We were never allowed a word out of turn. It’s a wonder I like you.”
“Ha! I am not so bad.” Though James knew the truth… his discipline sometimes came across as callousness. Michael was his closest friend, and for all the teasing, they would never abandon one another. They both knew what it was like to suffer at the hands of a father with financial trouble. “I have my rules, that is all. No liquor, no gambling, nothing that could risk me.”
“You have one weakness though,” Michael said as the carriage moved away, jerking with rickety wheels over the cobbles in the road. “Women.”
“Women? Hardly.” James laughed deeply at the idea, knowing exactly what Michael was referring to. His reputation as a rake seemed to be growing, not out of intention, but it was a natural thing. The ladies he’d been with had always known his offer – a night of passion, nothing more. “They are not my weakness. I am as disciplined in that regard as I am in any other.”
“Truly?” Michael chuckled at the idea. “You do not allow yourself a glass of port, but you allow yourself women? You must admit, your discipline faulty in that regard.”
“Indeed, it does not.” James shook his head. “Allow me to explain, my friend. I do not have a rule of no women, no. My rules are different. No love, that is simple. No affection, no courtship, no marriage, nothing of that kind.Thatis my discipline, and it has served me well.”
“No love, eh?” Michael seemed intrigued by the idea, his smile growing. “I wonder if it really is possible to discipline one’s heart the way one can control a drinking or gambling habit.”
“It’s possible. Believe me.”
CHAPTER1
“Do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Quite frankly, Lord Rutherford, I shudder to think.” Marina’s words didn’t appear to affect Baron Rutherford at all. She might as well not have spoken for all the good it did. He leaned toward her, quite ignoring the fact they were at Lord Frampton’s ball with many witnesses to watch them together, and he whispered in her ear.
“I am thinking of what our first night will be like together when we are married, Marina.” The suggestion made her blood boil.
Turning her back on the Baron, she reached for the nearest drinks table, clutching to the edge of the table to keep herself standing. It was stacked high with crystal glasses and champagne bottles that never quite seemed to be full, for people were so eager to drink. Marina barely noticed the fine decorations. She ignored the napkins that had been shaped into swans and the myriad of candles thrust into ornate crystal holders. She reached for a tall glass of champagne and drank it quickly.
If I am to go through with my plan tonight, I will need all the courage I can summon.
Yet Baron Rutherford followed her, stepping so close that his arm brushed her waist, and she jumped away from him.
“Pray, Lord Rutherford, do not come so close,” she begged of him in a whisper.
“Why should I stay away? We are betrothed, are we not?” he said luridly with his eyes drifting down her person. She felt sick at the mere thought and nearly gagged on a swallow of champagne.
It was her greatest disappointment that her father had agreed to the match. She’d had no say in the matter. No matter how many times she had pointed out that Baron Rutherford was a cruel man with little kindness in him, it did nothing to dissuade her father. Her mother had looked on with sympathetic eyes throughout her protests, but being of a meeker nature, her mother hadn’t argued the case.
What I would do to be away from this man!
Marina turned her eyes on the Baron, looking at the greasy black hair he now brushed back across his temple, apparently thinking it fine and well kept. He was short and may have even been shorter than her had the heels of his boots not given him a little lift. His dandy ways meant his clothes were more effusive than her own with a waistcoat so embroidered with flowers and perfume to match that her nose wrinkled at the strong scent of lily and bergamot.
He leaned toward her once more, his lace cuffs tickling her wrist as he tried to take her hand.
“I know ladies can sometimes be nervous about their first night,” he tried to whisper in her ear again, but she leaned away from him. The grasp he had on her hand meant she couldn’t get far. “Allow me to assure you, the night will be quite something.”
“You forget I have not agreed to that night,” Marina whispered in fear though once more, her words didn’t matter.
“That is a lady’s natural reluctance, demureness.”
“Demure? Believe me, My Lord, if you think me demure, then you do not know me at all.” She’d been called bold before, forthright, and spirited, but never demure. “I have not agreed –”
