Lady in Red (9 page)

Lady Albermaryle to her mother-in-law, the rather imposing Lady Southland, while waiting for Lord Albermaryle’s return

White’s Gentleman’s Club was one of the more stolid bastions of male society. It was an amalgamation of dark paneling, large leather seats, excellent port, and all of the other comforts necessary to men in general. To secure this masculine paradise, no daintily slippered females were allowed within its hallowed halls.

Anthony pushed back his plate and sighed. Roasted duck with mint jelly was usually his favorite, but somehow, without Anna and the children, his meal had seemed rather tasteless. The sad truth was that he missed his family. They had all gone north with Anna’s grandfather for a tour of the lakes, and here he was, feeling like a pebble in a very empty box.

He took a drink of port and wondered if he could hurry his business in town and then join his family. They would be surprised and pleased, especially Anna. He pictured her face, her remarkable gray eyes and the rich shimmer of her red hair. A faint ache filled his heart. Somehow, over the course of the two years since they’d wed, he’d become rather addicted to seeing her face across his dinner table. How strange that happened.

A stir arose near the door, and Anthony watched as Marcus made his way toward the table. Everyone bowed or nodded, and Anthony reflected that it was strange how people just naturally seemed to defer to his oldest half brother. Marcus carried himself with an unconscious air of command… but it was more than that. It was a streak of unequivocal integrity. One knew just by looking at Marcus that not only was he strong and capable, but he was honest and forthright as well.

“The man’s a bloody angel,” Anthony murmured to himself. A dark angel, one given to a snappish temper, but an angel nonetheless.

Marcus reached the table. “I thought I’d find you here.”

Anthony gestured toward an empty seat. “Have you eaten?”

“No, but I’m not hungry. However, I will have some of that port.”

Anthony took an empty glass and splashed a small amount into the bottom from the flagon that rested by his elbow. “Here you are.”

Marcus took a slow drink. “Excellent.”

“So I thought, which is why I ordered more to be brought as soon as this was done.” He eyed his brother, wondering what mood he might be in. Lately, one could never tell. “Well? Did you retrieve Mother’s ring?”

A flicker of a smile crossed Marcus’s face.

“Ah! You did!” Anthony sighed happily. “Finally we can put that—”

“You misunderstand. I found the ring but it is not in my possession.” Marcus swirled the port in his glass, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. “Yet.”

Anthony lowered his glass, wondering what to make of that. Marcus had been deadly set on getting that ring back. Yet now his brother sat across from him, seemingly unmoved by his lack of success. “You must explain… where did you find it?”

To Anthony’s utter surprise, a slow smile lifted the comers of his brother’s mouth. “Just as I predicted, Miss Baker-Sneed has Mother’s ring.”

“And?”

“And she won’t return it.”

“Bloody hell! Did you offer to purchase it?”

“Indeed I did. I offered two hundred pounds.”

Anthony frowned. “That’s a bit steep.”

“Not according to Miss Baker-Sneed. I made the mistake of admitting that the ring was an heirloom and before I knew it, she’d demanded seven thousand pounds for it.”

Anthony set his glass back on the table. “I beg your pardon… my ears must be closed. Did you say that she asked for seven
thousand
pounds for Mother’s ring?”

Marcus chuckled. “Audacious wench, isn’t she?”

“Bloody hell! What did you tell her?”

“Why, no, of course. Then she made another offer.”

“What did she want this time? A coach and six? A castle on the Thames? A fleet of ships?”

“No,” Marcus said slowly. “She wanted me to sponsor her sister for a season.”

Anthony leaned forward, his chair creaking slightly at the shift of his weight. “You must be joking.”

“No, I’m not.” A glint of amusement lit Marcus’s eyes. “But don’t worry, I was not expected to host any large events, like a ball. Not at first, anyway.”

“The audacity! What did you say?”

“No. Can you imagine what people would say if I agreed to such a thing?”

“That you had your eye on the sister and had most likely already sampled the goods.”

“Exactly. I pointed that out to Miss Baker-Sneed—not in those words, of course—and she agreed that such a thing was an impossibility. Which left us back where we were, at the seven thousand pounds.”

“An impasse.”

“Exactly.”

Anthony considered this, laughing a little as he did so. “To think of you, attending balls and soirees and musicales and all sorts of unpleasant events.”

Marcus frowned. “I attend those now.”

“Only when you must, which is rare enough. When Anna was last in town, she said she didn’t see you more than twice in a fortnight. You’ve become a bit of a recluse, you know.”

“I have not. It’s just that I get no enjoyment out of such silliness. But I am hardly a hermit.”

“Hm. Well. I can only say that Miss Baker-Sneed must not know you well to think you’d concede to such a troublesome request. Better to ask you to become a sheepherder as expect to see your unsmiling face at a number of society functions.”

Anthony’s slow smile irked Marcus for some reason. “I would go to more functions did they provide some sort of amusement. The last ten balls I have attended were noxiously similar, all offering indifferent refreshments, pallid musical entertainments, and vapid conversation. I was left with nothing to do but talk to some insipid females who could do nothing more than bleat ‘Yes, my lord’ and ‘No, my lord.” It was enough to make one ill.“

Anthony’s smile widened. “Got caught by some marriage-minded misses, eh?”

“Indeed I did. Although how they thought that simpering in such an outrageous fashion and agreeing with every word I

said would do anything but make me want to turn on my heels and leave, I do not know.“

Anthony chuckled. “Poor man. I feel your agony. I quite remember how horrid it was before Anna saved me from all of those desperate mamas and giggling debutantes.”

“What is worse is that they seem to believe that if I have one quiet moment to myself, I will disappear… which is probably quite true.”

“There is only one way you can avoid such painful treatment. Get married.”

Marcus didn’t smile.

“It was just a suggestion.” Anthony smiled his sleepy smile and leaned back in his chair, regarding Marcus over the rim of his glass. “Of course, if you had agreed to sponsor the younger Baker-Sneed chit, you could have gone to balls and sat amongst the other chaperones.”

“Are you finished trying to be funny? This is a serious matter. The very troublesome Miss Baker-Sneed could very easily sell Mother’s ring to someone else.”

Anthony sat upright. “She wouldn’t!”

“Indeed she would. She has more than enough contacts to do so, some in other countries. We’d never find it then.”

“Did she threaten to do that?”

“Yes. So I asked her to give me a week to think on her proposal.”

“And in a week?” ,

Marcus stared at his glass, “I don’t know, but I shall think of something.”

“You sound sure.”

“I am sure. I cannot afford for it to be otherwise.” Silence surrounded them. After a moment, Marcus looked at his half brother. “Well? Don’t you have something to say?”

“Me?” Anthony asked, his tone mild, though his brown eyes were lit with amusement. “What could I possibly add to that?”

“Blast it, Anthony! I know you have something to say.”

“It seems to me as if fate is saying it for you.”

“I knew you’d start back on that. It is not fate, but ill luck and I refuse to call it else.”

Anthony shrugged. “Have it your way.”

“Ass.”

“I come from a long line of asses, my dearest brother.”

“
Half
brother.”

“I suppose that makes me half an ass.” Anthony shrugged. “I can’t argue with that.”

Marcus sighed. “This is not funny.”

“Of course,” Anthony answered promptly. “It’s not funny at all. I wasn’t laughing at you. Oh no. I was merely laughing at, ah… what was that woman’s name?”

“Honoria Baker-Sneed.”

“Yes. That’s who I was laughing at. She is in for quite a surprise. To find herself married to such a pompous, ill-tempered, overly ambitious man will be quite horrid for the poor woman. The worst joke in the world.”

“If that’s what you think of me, then why do I constantly find your large carcass draped over my favorite chair in my study?”

Anthony silently held up his glass of port. “As tolerable as this port is, it is nothing compared to that found in your cellar.”

“Thank you,” Marcus said caustically. “Thank you very much.”

“Think nothing of it.” Anthony sighed deeply. “What other exciting projects do you have going on?”

“Well… I need to gain an interview with Lord Melton and ascertain the extent of the east boundaries on his properties.”

Anthony appeared surprised. “What? You are purchasing Melton’s holdings?”

“His gaming debts have become too much.” Marcus stretched his legs before him, smiling a little as he did so. “A

week ago, I offered to purchase Melton’s estates and he agreed.“

Anthony regarded him a moment, a frown resting between his brows. “There is no need to take such pleasure in another man’s misfortune.”

Marcus shot his brother a disbelieving look. “I take no pleasure in the man’s fall. I do, however, feel some satisfaction at adding such a gem to our own coffers. Surely there is nothing wrong with that. If he’s been so foolish as to squander his fortune, why shouldn’t I benefit?”

Anthony sighed. “I suppose. It’s just that I’ve always liked Melton.”

“So have I. But that does not excuse his irresponsible actions.”

“No. I only thought—” Anthony sank into silence. After a moment he shrugged. “I suppose you are right. I hope he is not in desperate case.”

“He did not like it, but he really has no choice, and I put out a goodly amount to settle his more pressing debts. All in all, it is a good bargain for us both.”

“I daresay he is thankful, then.”

“Hardly. Now he avoids me like the plague, which is damnably inconvenient.”

“Then how will you get the information you need about the boundaries?”

“I will track him to his lair.”

“His home?”

“Men like Melton cannot be found tucked snuggly into their bed. No, he resides more oft at the gaming table. I shall attend Lady Oxbridge’s ball on Thursday. The Oxbridges always have a gaming room and the stakes are high, thanks to Lord Oxbridge. Melton will not be able to resist the temptation. Besides, I rarely attend such functions; he will think himself safe.”

“Damn it, Marcus! You sound like—” Anthony shook his head, all of his previous lazy smiles gone.

“What?”

“There is a note in your voice—you enjoy this, taking from men like Melton.”

“Perhaps. But so what? It’s not as if I forced them to make idiots of themselves.”

“There was a time when you were more compassionate that that.”

Marcus eyed his brother for a long moment. “I wasn’t aware that you thought so poorly of me.”

“I don’t,” Anthony said. “It’s just that lately…” He hesitated, sending a careful glance at Marcus.

It was the caution in that usually friendly gaze that gave Marcus pause. Bloody hell, surely he hadn’t been
that
ill tempered of late? Or had he? “Spit it out. I can tell it’s not pleasant, so just say it.”

“No. I don’t wish to—”

“Say it, damn it!”

Anthony’s jaw tightened as he set his glass on the table, his eyes shadowed. “Very well. I fear that your success has tainted you in some way. You are filled with pride, Marcus. And not without reason, for you’ve managed to build a fortune few could ever hope to emulate. But it’s taken its toll. You’re… harder somehow, colder. And I am not the only one who has noticed.”

Bloody hell, of all the things to say! Marcus found his hand had clenched so tightly about his glass that it was a wonder it hadn’t broken. He forced himself to loosen his grip and set the glass on the table. “You make it sound as if you’ve been discussing me.”

Anthony’s face flushed. “We’ve been worried.”

An icy coldness settled in Marcus’s heart. “Are you finished?”

“No. There’s something else.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“You’ve become damnably judgmental. I think it’s time you stepped back and realized that no one is perfect. Not even you.”

Marcus stood so suddenly that the table skirted back an inch. “I don’t have to listen to this.”