Miss Kathleen's Scandalous Baron (Honorable Rogue Book 2) Read online

  Effie pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “I think it would be best. I’ve emptied my coffers for the night.”

  “I know the best way to round off the evening. Let us find a charming companion to lose ourselves in, shall we?”

  Renwick interjected, “What an excellent suggestion. In fact, I spied a pretty blonde across the room. I think I shall offer her my company for the night.” His friend sauntered across the room and engaged the blonde, who immediately took his hand and led him from the room.

  Blythe took off in the other direction and left with a tall redhead with generous curves. Andrew made eye contact with a ravishing, black-haired beauty, standing with a petite, brown-eyed seductress. He pointed toward the women and suggested, “Shall we join those ladies, Effinger?”

  His friend shook his head. “I shall pass tonight. I’m not in the mood, and I’m going to take myself off.”

  Andrew raised his brow. “Are you sure?”

  “I am. I need my rest, if I’m going to squire my sisters around tomorrow morning.”

  “If you’re sure. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  As he watched his friend make his way to the door and leave, he decided he would talk to Effie the next day regarding his losses. His friend was not as plump in the pocket as the rest of them. He had three sisters to support, and a mother who didn’t understand how to economize.

  After spending the rest of the evening in the arms of the enchantress with the raven hair, Andrew made it home as the purple hues of the dawn broke across the sky, another night well spent.

  The next afternoon, Andrew caught up with Effinger at White’s. The man looked awful; big bags under his eyes and his complexion had a sallow tone. He suspected his friend worried over his losses from the night before. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

  Effinger looked warily at him. “I suppose so, but not long. I’m taking my sisters to Drury Lane tonight to see a new play.”

  After moving to a secluded corner of the room, away from prying ears, Andrew said, “Listen, we’ve been friends for a long time. I’m worried about you. You look like hell. I noticed you suffered a significant loss at the tables last night. If you need a loan, I would be happy to help you out.”

  Anguish flickered in Effie’s eyes. “Oh, God, Billingsley, I’m in trouble. I’ve lost steadily for the past two weeks, and I’m in too deep. Ten days ago, I went to a new gaming club some acquaintances told me they’d gone to and that the tables had good odds.” His face took on a rigid countenance. “I shall not belabor the situation…I lost five hundred pounds. The man I lost it to is threatening my family if I can’t pay. I don’t have it.”

  “It’s not your habit to play so deep,” Andrew mused. “I can loan you the blunt, but are you sure this game wasn’t crooked? The man probably set you up.”

  Effinger ran a finger around his neck cloth before answering. “Although I suspect the man cheated, I can’t prove it.”

  “I want to meet this fellow. I can usually tell if he’s a cheat. The dealer at this hell may have been underhanded and involved in some way as well. Is the man gentry or a peer?”

  “I’m not sure,” Effie answered, “not a peer, since he’s a mister. I’ve never met him before. I don’t know why I played so deep that night. He kept buying me drinks and before I realized it, I’d lost and had to give the man my voucher.”

  “It certainly sounds like this man may be a cardsharp. I know you said you need to take your sisters to that play, so we’ll plan to go to this club tomorrow, shall we?”

  Looking relieved, Effie replied, “Thank you for helping me with this. I’m afraid this man and his cohorts will come after my sisters. He gave me until the day after tomorrow to come up with the money. Not sure when I’ll be able to repay you, but I shall find the funds somehow.”

  “We’ll meet here tomorrow night at eight o’clock, then go to this establishment and get this debacle straightened out. I’m not worried about the loan. I know you will pay me when you can.” After Andrew’s reassurance, Effie exhaled as if a thousand pounds had lifted from his shoulders.

  The following evening, Andrew met his friend, and they went to the gaming hell. When they entered the smoke-filled room, Effinger pointed out the man who’d fleeced him. Andrew noticed the fellow avoided making eye contact with the gentlemen with whom he was speaking, and he kept tugging at his cuffs. He probably had a few cards stuck up his sleeve. The sleazy man had cheat written all over him. His demeanor gave him away. He became more convinced than before that this man had double-crossed his friend. Now, it was just a matter of proving it. They sauntered over to the man and his cohorts, and Effinger introduced him to Mr. Watkins. Andrew engaged him in polite conversation, playing the typical young, naïve cub. After talking a few minutes, he suggested a game of faro, and Mr. Watkins accepted.

  Finding an empty table in the center of the room, they began to play. Andrew watched the man carefully. In the beginning, everything appeared to be fair. After an hour of play, Mr. Watkins began to ply him with drinks. He pretended to imbibe. When the man wasn’t watching, he poured his drink into a potted plant sitting next to him. The next hour went by, and he caught the man slipping a card from the sleeve of his jacket.

  Hoping to draw other gamesters to their table, Andrew raised his voice and declared, “You, sir, are a cheat. I saw you switch cards. Effinger, did you catch that?”

  “Yes, I saw it all.”

  The man stood, knocking his chair over. “I do not cheat!” By this time several other gentlemen had gathered around, listening to the exchange between him and Watkins.

  One of the men shouted, “I saw him as well. He must have cheated me last night.” Several other men moved forward, glaring at Watkins.

  Many of them started chanting, “Cheat, cheat!” A full-scale riot threatened to break out. Some of the dealers moved forward to calm the crowd.

  Andrew rose from his chair and pointed to the group of men surrounding the table, shouting and waving their fists in the air. By this time, several brutish men joined the group, muscling their way through the crowd.

  Andrew raised his voice to be heard over the din of shouting men. “I’m sure you don’t want this to go any further. Give my friend and this other fellow their markers. It’s the vouchers or I’ll call in a constable. I’m sure he’d take the word of a peer and have you in the Fleet posthaste. Trying to fleece gentlemen will get you imprisoned at the least, and possibly a noose around your neck. I would relish the opportunity of watching as you swing your way straight to hell.”

  The club’s men formed a barrier between the crowd and the table. Andrew had the man by the bullocks and Watkins had to know it.

  After shifting his eyes to the shouting crowd and then to one of his friends, Watkins muttered, “I don’t want any trouble.” Reaching in his jacket, he pulled Effinger’s marker and the other man’s from an inner pocket, then threw them on the table. “There, are you satisfied?”

  Andrew gave him a sardonic grin. “A wise decision, my good man. A pleasure doing business with you. I trust, you shan’t bother Effinger or any of his family again, is that not right, Watkins?”

  Grumbling, Watkins nodded and turned to his friends. “Let us depart while we have the chance.”

  After the cheat and his cronies moved toward the door, the group of angry men called out threats and jeers and followed behind the men. Andrew was extremely pleased with the outcome. Mr. Watkins would need to find his own way out of his mess.

  Effinger grabbed his hand and shook it. “How can I ever thank you? I can’t believe you got him to give you my marker. Do you think he will leave me alone?”

  “Men like Watkins are bullies. Without the voucher, he will not do anything, especially after that crowd gets through with him. I’m sure you’ll be fine, but promise me…stay away from this place in the future. Can I count on that, my friend?”

  “I promise this is the last time I go to a hell I’m not famili
ar with. Now, I need to figure out how to pay off the other gentlemen I lost money to in the past two weeks. At least, they are gentlemen.”

  He laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I told you I would loan you the blunt. Send me the rest of your markers, and I shall redeem them for you. I’ll hold them until you can pay. I know you’re good for the funds. Now, shall we find Renwick and Blythe? We can invite them to go with us to Madame Fontaine’s. I know I want to celebrate our victory.”

  Effie threw him a grateful smile. “Lead the way, my friend.”

  Over the next ten days, Andrew attended several ton parties, and he saw Kathleen Hawks at each of them. One thing he noticed, Miss Hawks didn’t lack suitors. Every time he observed her, a crowd of young men clamored for her attention. While his attraction grew stronger each time he saw her, he stayed away. He certainly had no desire to court her. No, it was much better for him to turn his attention toward the merry widow trying to catch his eye. Noreen Holcombe would be a much better choice. She would not have marriage in mind, only dalliance.

  While he could control his thoughts in the waking hours, he couldn’t control them while he slept. Each night, he dreamed of taking the delectable Miss Hawks to his bed, and would awaken hard as stone. He continued to watch her from a far, while he allowed Noreen to flirt outrageously with him as she attempted to lure him to her bed. At least, if he gave in to the woman’s seduction, he might be able to find sexual release and hopefully stop the fascination for Miss Hawks. Since he’d begun to fantasize over the chit, he’d lost interest in the women at Madame Fontaine’s, much to his chagrin. His impossible desire for the lovely Kathleen Hawks unsettled him. He’d never felt tempted by an innocent before. With her sharp tongue, he wasn’t even sure he liked her, so he could not understand his obsession.

  CHAPTER THREE

  While Kathleen enjoyed the museums and the theater, she found the balls and parties tedious. Although she gave the young men who seemed to dog her every step little encouragement, she couldn’t rid herself of them without being rude. They crowded around her at every affair she attended and sent her flowers the following morning. The drawing room resembled a flower shop.

  Kathleen sighed. “Why do these young men waste their money?”

  The duchess laughed. “Enjoy all this attention, my dear. Those young men have made you an instant sensation. I think your charming southern accent draws them like bees to the honey pot. Are you sure you haven’t found anyone who has caught your eye? Even though Lord Billingsley is not part of your entourage, I’ve seen you watching him several times.”

  She certainly didn’t want anyone to think she was interested in that man. She felt sure he had the morals of a tomcat, and seeing how he had been carrying on with that widow only made her more confident in her opinion of the man. Attraction wasn’t what she felt, more like disgust.

  She vehemently shook her head. “Absolutely not. I find his behavior beyond the pale. Have you noticed him with Lady Holcombe? They’re obviously having an affair.”

  The duchess frowned as her hands stilled over her stitchery. “You are not supposed to notice things of that nature. We discussed this the other day. Your outspokenness is quite unseemly.”

  “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I shan’t mention it again. I promise to control my tongue.” Then trying to keep her voice contrite, she lamented, “I become so frustrated with these young men. Don’t they have anything better to do with their time? I try to discourage them, and yet they will not leave me alone.”

  Apparently appeased, the indulgent woman smiled. “Be that as it may, those young men have elevated you to the status of a diamond of the first water.”

  Remembering something from the night before, Kathleen tried to suppress a giggle as she sat aside her cross-stitch, but it slipped out anyway.

  Her Grace asked, “Now what has you laughing, my dear?”

  “Oh, goodness, I shouldn’t find this amusing. One of the gentlemen has taken to quoting very bad poetry. To top it off, several of the gentlemen can’t dance. Every night I come home with sore toes.”

  Obviously finding humor in this as well, the duchess smiled. “Well, bad poetry can be humorous and sore toes are no fun.” Then she grew serious and put her needlework beside her. “If you’re truly miserable, I suppose we could send you back to Overton Park. I had hoped you would enjoy the London season.”

  “Oh, Your Grace,” she assured her, “I am enjoying the other amusements here, and I love the musicales we’ve attended. I’m truly grateful for this opportunity. Let me assure you, I don’t want to go back to Devonshire, I promise. I never meant to imply I don’t appreciate what you and your husband are doing for me.”

  The duchess inclined her head. “I didn’t think you meant that, dear. I want you to be happy. Most young women would be thrilled by the attention.”

  She sighed. “I suppose I would be as well, if I didn’t have a fiancé waiting for me at home. I feel guilty if I have too much fun.”

  Her grace reached over and patted her hand. “Ah, that is what bothers you. I am sure your Mr. Jones wants you to enjoy yourself. After all, you are only eighteen.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “I am sure of it. Now, can you relax and enjoy the rest of your time here?” she asked.

  “I’m glad we talked this over. It really has preyed on my mind. Now I shall relax and enjoy myself a bit more. I might even flirt with some of these young gentlemen. Most of them are nice. Mr. Mandrake is the one who bothers me the most. I’m sure once the novelty wears off, he’ll move on to someone else, especially if I continue to discourage him.”

  “That relieves my mind,” she replied as she picked up her embroidery and resumed sewing. “Once you have your come-out ball, we can take a short respite, if you would like. My husband has a lovely estate in Surrey, a few hours from here. We could go there for a long weekend.”

  Realizing she needed to give the duchess additional reassurance, she told her, “That shan’t be necessary. I’m sure it would be difficult for the duke to leave London at this time.” Then wanting to change the topic, she asked, “Would it be possible to go to the lending library today? I noticed you finished your book and I have as well. We could borrow another one.”

  The kind woman beamed at her. “Of course we can. I am pleased you feel better regarding your visit. I enjoy your company immensely, and my son adores you. He loves your stories and how you are willing to crawl around on the floor with him. When the time comes, you shall make a wonderful mother.”

  “I do love children, especially babies. When William and I are married, I want several. Speaking of children, Anissa is due any day. I wish I could be there, but I would probably be in the way. My mother would never let me help. Everyone is hoping for a boy, since Alex already has a daughter.”

  “I would say we could go see the baby when it arrives, but your ball is set for the fifth of April. You will see the babe when your family arrives in May. I must say I shall miss having you here when you leave to go back to America. I mentioned to His Grace the possibility of visiting Baltimore. Neither one of us have ever been to your country. I know we would enjoy seeing it.”

  Kathleen laid aside her sewing and stood. “I know I can speak for my family. We would love for you to visit. If we’re going to the library this afternoon, I need to change my gown. I shall see you in a bit.” Then after curtsying, she went upstairs.

  Kathleen and the duchess spent a pleasant afternoon. After going to Hookham’s lending library, they went to Gunter’s. While eating their ices, she noticed Lord Billingsley enter with Lady Holcombe on his arm. It was beginning to seem as if she couldn’t stick her nose out the door without seeing him. She found this irritating. Most of all, worrisome, because a flicker of something set butterflies dancing in her stomach every time she saw him. It was disconcerting. She hated to believe it, but it could be attraction. Which was absurd, because she detested everything about the man.

  A group of Kathleen’s adm
irers came sauntering in, and when they saw her, they immediately came to her. Felix Mandrake was among them, the most bothersome of them all. While Viscount Hewett’s heir and considered quite a catch, at nineteen, his face was still covered with spots. Poor fellow. He’d decided to grow side whiskers, but with very little facial hair, they didn’t enhance his appearance. He did have handsome eyes, though. At least his attention kept her from casting sly glances at the wicked baron.

  Hearing a voice speak to her, she realized Mr. Mandrake had asked a question while she sat there woolgathering. “I beg your pardon. Could you repeat that?”

  Looking at her with his puppy dog eyes, Mr. Mandrake directed the question to the duchess. “Your Grace, would you give permission for me to take Miss Hawks for a drive tomorrow?”

  The duchess gave him a haughty stare, then replied, “Mr. Mandrake. You should have approached me and asked in a more discreet manner.”

  Kathleen watched as his ears turned bright red, while he mumbled, “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I meant no disrespect. In my exuberance to enjoy Miss Hawks’ company, I overstepped myself.”

  “I suppose I shall allow it,” her tone softened a bit, “as long as Miss Hawks is agreeable.”

  The young man turned to Kathleen. “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to take you for a drive tomorrow, Miss Hawks? I recently took delivery of a new high perch phaeton, and I would like to show off my driving skills.”

  She definitely didn’t want to spend more time with Mr. Mandrake, but with so many witnesses watching, she did not have the heart to deny him. Plus, the duchess had given her approval. “It would be my pleasure. I’ve never ridden in a high perch phaeton. I look forward to it. I hope you’re a good driver.”

  Preening, he replied, “I don’t like to brag, but I’m quite the whip. I take after my father. He taught me how to drive, and he was known as the most notable whip in his day. I promise you shall be quite safe with me.”

  Kathleen refrained from giggling with difficulty. “That relieves my mind.” Sending a pleading look toward her grace, she said, “As pleasant as this has been, Her Grace and I need to leave if we’re going to have enough time to prepare for the ball tonight.”