Page 70 of The Theory of Earls
Georgina never even raised her chin. There was always at least one altercation in the evenings at Elysium. “What is it?” She tossed a card toward the dealer.
“You tell Murphy I’m here.” Lord Winthrop wailed and thrashed at Smith like a worm on a hook. “I am once again a member in good standing.”
“You aren’t on the list. Send a runner,” Smith grunted to another one of Leo’s employees standing near, his arm muscles bulging as he held the struggling Winthrop.
Georgina’s admiring gaze settled on Smith. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an arm muscle so large.”
Margaret barely heard her friend’s admiration for the giant doorman. She was too unsettled by the appearance of Winthrop. Hopefully, he wouldn’t spot her and try to renew their acquaintance.
“May I have a scotch, please?” she asked, stopping a passing servant. Something stronger would be required if Winthrop’s presence was to be tolerated. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the night of the duchess’s ball when Welles had compromised her.
“I tell you, my debts are cleared.” Winthrop’s eyes roamed over the room, passing by Margaret before he uttered an oath and his gaze moved back to her. His florid face scrunched into dislike. “Taken care of by Lord Welles.” He shook off Smith’s arm.
* * *
“I wonderedwhere you’d gone, Lord Welles. I’ve been looking for you.”
Tony paused at hearing the voice of Lady Isley on his way up the stairs to his brother’s office. He meant to speak to Leo about the merchant who supplied the wine for Elysium before taking his wife home. Tony had found an irregularity in the accounts and suspected the man was skimming off the top. The last thing he wished to do was be accosted by a former lover, especially when Maggie sat downstairs.
“Good evening, Lady Isley. You shouldn’t be up here wandering about unsupervised.” He took her elbow to escort her back down to the first floor. This part of the second floor was off-limits to patrons, as Lady Isley was well aware.
“I thought,” Lady Isley purred, “we could make use of one of Elysium’s private rooms as we have in the past.” Her skirts twisted around his legs as she pushed against him, the floral scent of her perfume flooding his nostrils.
“I don’t think so.” Lady Isley had been an occasional lover of his, but nothing more. “I thought you’d retired to the country, Lenora.” He tried to steer her in the direction of the stairs.
“I found I missed the delights of London.” Her fingertips trailed down his chest. “When I heard the rumor you’d married,” she said, “I didn’t believe it at first. You’ve always had an abhorrence for the institution. I was shocked to find out your little bride was Lady Dobson’s niece. The tin miner’s daughter.”
Tony disengaged her fingers. How had he ever found Lenora remotely interesting? He couldn’t recall one conversation they’d ever shared or anything remotely intelligent coming from her mouth. Lenora was painted and primped, like an overdone cake. Or a tart. He no longer found her appealing.
“I must decline, Lady Isley.” A number of beautiful women had tossed themselves in his direction since his marriage, with similar results. Tony had no interest in any of them. He only saw Maggie.
His marriage didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it had a few weeks ago. Instead, wedding his little pianist now gave Tony a deep sense of peace.
Lady Isley’s eyes widened slightly, surprised her charms were having no effect. “You don’t need to pretend to be the dutiful husband. We all know youhadto marry her, Welles. You, of all people, getting caught in an indiscretion and then having a burst of honor.” She leaned closer. “Which we all know you don’t have.”
Tony’s jaw tightened. “If you’ll excuse me, Lady Isley, I need to return to my wife.”
He dropped her arm, not caring if she found it impolite. One of the runners could be sent upstairs to escort Lady Isley back to the public area. Before he could turn, she grabbed the lapels of his coat, stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.
36
Margaret glanced down at the table, making herself as small as possible lest Winthrop decide to come her way, and attempted to hide herself behind Georgina.
“What in God’s name are you doing?” Georgina glanced toward the door, noticing for the first time, not Smith, but the man the giant actually held in his grip. “Oh, dear. Winthrop. I was certain he’d been banned.”
Margaret snuck a peek around her friend’s shoulder. Her former suitor was mopping at his forehead with a handkerchief and scowling. Garbed in a brown velvet jacket trimmed in gold braid, he looked like an oversized chocolate truffle wrapped in foil and spoiling in the sun.
“Good Lord, he’sterrible,” Georgina said with a glance down at her cards. “Your aunt meant to give you to that sweating mass of velvet?”
“Yes,” Margaret said, scanning the room behind her, looking for Welles. Movement caught her eye on one of the second-floor balconies. A woman pressed herself rather seductively into a gentleman who didn’t seem to be resisting her. Lady Isley and—
Bile turned her mouth bitter.Surely not.
Lady Isley, the redhead who’d soscornfullyexamined Margaret a short time ago and found her wanting was now on the balcony directly above the gaming floor, locked in a passionate embrace with…Welles. Margaret’s head whipped back down sharply, Winthrop and the faro game forgotten.
“Maggie? What’s wrong? Are you ill?”
She looked down at her hand of faro, disinterested in the remainder of the game. And she was even wearing one of the new gowns her husband had chosen for her. A deep, jeweled sapphire that matched his eyes. Jerking her head in the direction of the landing, she lifted her glass, draining the contents.
