Page 15 of Once You Love a Scoundrel

He sighed, but she ignored it. If he hadn’t wanted her to hate him, then he should have been nicer to her. The problem with it all, though, was she didn’t actually despise him as much as she pretended to. He didn’t need to know that part, though. Maybe one day, if he earned her trust again, she’d tell him she never stopped loving him. She prayed that day came because she didn’t want to completely give up on him.

“What can I do to stop this animosity between us?” he asked. They neared the table. When they reached their designated seats, he pulled out her chair for her. When she was seated, he leaned down and said, “Because while this is quite stimulating...I want a different kind of passion between us.”

Iris clenched her teeth together. “You’ll wait a very long time for that.”

“I do not believe I will,” he said as he slid into his own seat. “The dance has already begun.”

He was so sure of himself. The bastard... Well, she wasn’t ready to give up. He had a lesson or two to learn, and she had the perfect way to teach him one. She grinned and turned to Lord Goodland. “My lord,” she began. “Could you help me with something?” She batted her eyelashes at him in a way she prayed was flirtatious.

* * *

What the hellgame was she trying to play at now? She ignored him throughout dinner. Not once had she turned to him. His Iris was flirting quite openly with Goodland and if his friend didn’t stop responding, he was going to have to beat him bloody.

“I’ve always found dreams a prelude to the real thing,” Goodland began. “A good one prepares you for the genuine pleasure that awaits you.”

“Is that so?” Iris said, leaning a little closer. “Tell me about your last dream.”

Bloody hell... Daniel clenched his fork in his hand. His knuckles were white as he fought the rage building inside of him. Goodland better not answer that question truthfully.

“I haven’t dreamed anything substantial in quite some time,” Goodland answered. “There’s been a lack of inspiration of late.”

Goodland turned to the lady on his other side, Daniel’s sister, Lady Calliope. “What about you?” he asked her. “What do you think of dreams?”

“Dreams are a wonderful way for us to imagine what we have trouble reaching in our waking moments. It’s like a wish brought forward, but one we don’t dare to achieve.”

“That’s lovely,” Goodland said in a warm tone.

Thank God they were on the last course. Goodland was flirting with Iris and Daniel’s sister. He was going to kill him. There was no way around it. He didn’t want to do it. Goodland was a good friend to have, but he was going too far. Both Iris and Calliope were out of his league. Especially since he made it clear that he would never marry, and he wanted his family’s title to die with him. He had a lot of hatred for his father.

They finished the last course. Everyone stood. “Ladies,” the duchess began. “If you’ll join me in the sitting room for after-dinner drinks.” She smiled at them. “Gentlemen, follow my husband to the game room. I believe he has something special planned for you all.”

They separated and went to their designated rooms. Daniel wanted to pull Iris aside and kiss her senseless. It wasn’t the time or place for it. Besides, he had to deal with Goodland first. They went into the game room. Lindsey poured them all snifters of brandy and passed them out. “Now that dinner is over, the real fun can begin.”

“What did you have in mind?” Winchester asked. “It’s been a long day.”

“You’re an old married man now,” Goodland said, then laughed. “You can stay here longer. We don’t have the opportunity to gather together like this anymore.”

“He’s right,” Merrifield said. “Some of us are old married men now. With wives waiting in a warm bed.” He laughed at the stricken look on Goodland’s face.

“Don’t rub it in,” Goodland said. “Some of us have a cold bed.”

“You can fix that, you know,” Lindsey said. “Find a woman willing to put up with you and you’ll always have that warm bed.”

“No, thank you,” Goodland said. “I will have another snifter of brandy though.” He held out his glass for Lindsey to pour brandy into it.

“We’re going to play a drinking game.” Lindsey grinned. There was a devilish glint in his gaze that Daniel didn’t like. Sometimes the duke could be truly wicked. “The loser has to drink each hand they lose.”

Merrifield groaned. “I don’t want to go to bed foxed. Violet won’t appreciate that.” The marquess had settled into marriage far better than Daniel had believed he would. They all had been so adamant against it. Why did any of them think they could avoid marriage he didn’t understand. They were so determined to remain bachelors. Daniel was contemplating taking that step. He knew he wanted Iris, and if he wanted her forever he would have to marry her. Convincing her of that would be the hard part. For tonight he wanted to forget all that though. He’d play this game the duke had in mind. What did he have to lose?

Daniel didn’t care how much he had to drink. He did not have a wife to worry about. If Iris were waiting for him, he might object to this game, but as she wasn’t, he said, “I’m in.”

They all settled down at the table. They were playing Faro. Merrifield didn’t do well with any card game, but luck was usually on Daniel’s side. Which was why he couldn’t help being surprised by how many times he’d lost. “Are these cards rigged?”

“Would I do that?” Lindsey said and held his hand on his chest. “You wound me.”

He had already drank more than half the decanter of brandy. The room was blurry as hell. Daniel narrowed his gaze. “You’re up to something.” He slurred his words. “I don’t know what, but I will figure it out.”

Goodland slapped him on the back. “You’re paranoid, my friend.”

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