Page 109 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
“You!” Andrew cried. He cast his gaze over the man once more—the huge belly that strained against the buttons of his waistcoat, thick hands with swollen fingers adorned with rings that glittered malevolently in the afternoon light, the wisps of unkempt, thinning hair framing his fleshy face, and his eyes…
Cold, pale-blue eyes, gleaming with inebriation and self-satisfaction.
“What are you doing here,Dunton?” Andrew asked.
“Taking luncheon.”
“Who’s standing your ledgerthistime?” Foxton asked, a lick of cold amusement in his tone.
Dunton huffed with indignation. “Sir Heath Moss, if you must know. At least a man hassomefriends he can rely on.”
Foxton let out a snort. “I suppose when a man’s exhausted his credit with every tradesman in town he must resort to his friends—what few he has remaining.”
“Careful, Foxton, or you’ll be mistaken for a tradesman yourself with all this talk of funds,” Dunton said. “If I were you, Radham, I’d choose your friends wisely. Half the election committee at White’s are personal friends of mine.”
“And how would you define afriend, Dunton?” Andrew asked. “Someone from whom you take what you want before casting them aside? Much like a woman?”
Dunton frowned, his weak eyes glazing with confusion. “A man is a fool if he considers a woman to be his friend. Women are to be enjoyed then cast aside.”
“Such as innocent maidens? Debutantes?”
Andrew caught a flicker of recognition in Dunton’s eyes before the man shook his head and let out a laugh. “I say, Foxton, I’d think carefully if you wish to sponsor this fellow’s membership. You wouldn’t want your reputation tarnished by association.”
“A man’s reputation is almost impervious to ruination, no matter what he does,” Andrew said. “Evenyours, Dunton.”
“I say, Radham, there’s a time and a place,” Foxton said. “Do you know Dunton?”
“Only by reputation.”
Dunton laughed. “Gossip, more like, if there was a woman involved.”
“Notanywoman,” Andrew replied, bile rising in his gut. “Miss Juliette Howard.”
“Oh, you mean awhore.”
“Miss Howard is no whore!” Andrew cried, and another volley of coughs rippled through the dining room.
“Radham,” Foxton warned, rising to his feet. “Dunton, perhaps the two of you should settle your disagreement elsewhere.”
“It’s no disagreement,” Andrew said. “This fellow here debauched a young woman then abandoned her.”
“Now, old chap, I’ve never—”
“She bore your child!” Andrew cried.
Tutting filled the air, and a voice muttered, “For shame!”
“For shame indeed,” Andrew said, and Dunton curled his lip in a sneer.
“I think they’re referring toyou, old chap. Disturbing our peace—it’s simply not done.”
“But violating a respectable young woman is?” Andrew said. “Then you’re hypocrites—all of you!”
“Ha!” Dunton replied. “Violating, eh?” He leaned toward Andrew and lowered his voice. “That little slut was only too eager to spread her legs for me. Begged for it, she did, offering her cunny in the hope it would earn her my hand.”
“Why you…” Andrew began, but the footman approached and raised a white-gloved hand.
“Gentlemen, if you please,” he said. “I am compelled to remind you to observe club rules. You must desist or I shall be required to remove you from the premises.”
