Page 233 of From Rakes to Riches

Lucien shook his head. “He has two sisters, but I think they may both be wed. Even if they weren’t, I’m certain he would no sooner want his sister to marry a rake like either of you than I do.”

“I wasn’t suggesting myself,” Wexford said with a bit of heat. “Furthermore, you know I am not interested in marriage for at least three more years.”

Tobias uncrossed his arms and set one palm atop the table. “And I am no longer a rake.”

“Last week’s maid was just a fleeting relapse?” Wexford asked.

“She wasn’t a relapse. She wasn’t even a maid.” Tobias picked up his glass before realizing it was empty. Fortunately for him, a footman in the corner noted his lack of whisky and came to rectify the deficit. Tobias looked up at him in gratitude as he retrieved the empty glass. “Thank you.”

Lucien’s eyes glittered as he regarded Tobias across the table. “Yes, about that. I have since learned that the woman you dallied with was not, in fact, an employee. The ladies’ housekeeper said she and another young woman she didn’t recognize were in the sitting room that morning. They said they were new and that I had hired them. I did not.”

Fiona had been with another young woman? She hadn’t mentioned it. Was it Prudence? Perhaps Fiona had been protecting her, which was smart. If Tobias learned it was her, he would toss her out immediately.

The footman set down Tobias’s whisky. He murmured another thanks before busying himself with a long sip.

“I can see your mind working.” Lucien seemed to realize Tobias was trying not to participate in the discussion of these women’s identities. “Do you know this woman?”

Tobias didn’t want to reveal his ward. But if he didn’t, they’d think he was kissing someone he’d just met in the garden while they were supposed to be meeting about the club. Did it even matter? They’d already cast him in the role of incurable lothario.

Lucien squinted at him briefly. “Perhaps you are trying to recall. Her hair seemed red.”

“Doesn’t your ward have red hair?” Wexford mused.

Tobias tensed. He didn’t particularly want to look at Lucien. Or Wexford.

Lucien muttered something before taking a drink of his port. “Why was she here dressed as a maid, and who was she with?”

Leveling an icy stare at Lucien, Tobias, said, “I didn’t confirm it was her.”

“You don’t have to,” Lucien said quietly. “It all makes sense now.”

Wexford leaned toward Tobias. “Do you have a tendre for her?”

“No.” Tobias didn’t know what he had for her. One thing was certain, he thought about her too damned much.

Lucien stared at him intently, repeating, “Who was she with, and why were they here?”

“I didn’t know she wasn’t alone.” That was the absolute truth. “She wanted to see the inside of the club. It was foolish, and she knows it. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

Wexford continued to look at him intently, as if he were trying to puzzle something out. “Why can’t you just marryher?”

“She’s young and not yet ready to marry. She already has a perfect suitor in Lord Gregory, and she is completely unenthused.”

Sitting back in his chair, Wexford let out a hollow laugh. “Clear proof that she’s immature and simple-minded.”

“Or that she’s perhaps interested in someone else.” Lucien sipped his port.

Tobias gritted his teeth. “Stop playing matchmaker, both of you. How would it look if I were to court my ward? As if my reputation isn’t bad enough.”

“That seems an excellent argument to marry her,” Wexford said with a shrug. “If people already expect the outrageous from you, give it to them.”

Hadn’t Tobias done exactly that after his failed courtship two years ago? He’d considered eloping to Gretna Green with his prospective bride—after she’d already become betrothed to another man. Thankfully, he’d seen the error in his rash thinking. More importantly, he’d realized the young woman hadn’t ever loved him. She’d loved the idea of marriage to whomever she was with, and the idea of running away to Scotland had titillated her. That was the moment Tobias had come to his senses and changed his mind, telling her to go forward with her betrothed. Afterward, she’d told everyone he’d tried to kidnap her. While many did not believe that of him, the ton’s consensus was that he’d behaved poorly by trying to elope with her. They cast him as a rogue and a scoundrel, and he’d decided to become just that.

Perhaps hewasactually a rogue and a scoundrel, and a rake and a reprobate. Hehadproposed elopement to someone who was already betrothed, and hehadkissed a maid—his ward—without concern.

“He’s grown awfully quiet,” Lucien observed. “I think he’s considering it.”

“I am not.” Tobias took a drink of whisky. “Can we please talk about something else?”

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