How to Catch a Wicked Viscount by Bennett Amy Rose

Author:Bennett, Amy Rose
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-08-26T16:00:00+00:00

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Nate lounged against the door leading to the billiard room, champagne in hand, watching a laughing Sophie being swept around the dance floor by Timothy, Lord Edgerton. Cheeky bastard. Trust him to have asked her for a waltz. And unlike Claremont, he was holding her much too close.

Claremont. The man’s apparent lack of follow-through with Sophie confused him. He’d appeared keen enough, especially after their private conversation in Hyde Park. He wondered if Sophie’s feelings were hurt by the man’s obvious snub. Like most young women, she’d have been right to assume the viscount’s attention last week meant something. While he felt bad for her, the other, ungracious part of him was also relieved that Claremont had turned out to be a bit of a bounder after all.

But then, remember he asked you to pass on his regards to Sophie. But you didn’t.

Guilt pinched and he took a swig of champagne. Claremont could go to hell. If the viscount were serious, the least he could have done was send Sophie flowers or even a note if he hadn’t time to make a call or turn up anywhere else.

He was heartily sick of all this business, watching his sister and Sophie being wooed and courted by a pack of ne’er-do-wells or, worse, rakes that were so dissolute, they could only ever be described as blackguards. He’d already had to chase Rollo Kingsley, Baron Rochfort, away from Charlie and Sophie. From what Nate knew of the man, his tastes were dark, and a violent temper lurked beneath his smooth facade.

He wondered if there weren’t more scoundrels here tonight than usual simply because Lady Astley would have sent out most of the invitations.

Egad, the woman was brazen. But then, so was Gabriel. While they’d played a game of billiards, Lady Astley had made come-hither eyes at his friend from across the room. And now Gabriel had disappeared . . .

Considering the woman’s husband was here tonight, Gabriel was going to get himself killed if he wasn’t careful. Nate couldn’t imagine the Earl of Astley would take kindly to being cuckolded beneath his own roof during a ball he and his wife were hosting.

The waltz came to an end, and Nate spent a moment deciding whether he wanted something stronger to drink like brandy or another dance with Sophie.

He really should stick with the brandy. It was far less addictive.

Turning toward the billiard room again—earlier on he’d spied a footman lurking in a corner with a tray of brandy-filled glasses—his attention was caught by the sound of a violent commotion; the orchestra screeched to a halt as an angry male voice rent the merry atmosphere of the ball to shreds.

“You filthy bastard!”

Hell, bloody hell. Gabriel had been caught. He just knew it.

Several women screamed and another man shouted as Nate swung around just in time to see Lord Astley plant a punch in Gabriel’s face. His friend reeled backward and hit the floor.

Shit. Dropping his champagne glass, Nate darted around clusters of gaping guests until he reached the dance floor.

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