When Marrying a Scoundrel by Kathryn Smith

Author:Kathryn Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2010-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

There was very little either nimble or quick about Jack after three hours of heavy drinking with the Kane brothers. The duchess had let Ryeton out to play, after all, and the three of them had carried on, going to a club Jack couldn’t remember the name of, though he was certain his grandfather would be well acquainted with it, the person who founded it, its political leanings, and whether or not any of its members were worth half a damn. So long as the old man wasn’t a member himself, Jack didn’t give a damn what his grandfather’s opinions were of his current surroundings. Still, in his drunken state, he pondered it regardless.

“You don’t conduct yourself like most men of business, Friday,” Ryeton remarked over the rim of his glass. The duke, Jack noticed, was decidedly less sauced than either he or Archer. Of course, His Grace had a beautiful wife to go home to and sobriety was always desirable when climbing into the marriage bed. Unless, of course, both were piss drunk. He remembered he and Sadie having more than a few very enjoyable romps after too much cheap wine.

“Obviously someone neglected to hand me a copy of the code when I signed on,” Jack remarked with good-humored dryness. He felt very comfortable with these two, and he knew it showed. That perhaps was his first mistake.

Ryeton regarded him with a gaze that put Jack in mind of the threat of rain on a spring day—not quite blue and not quite gray. It wasn’t an unfriendly gaze by any measure, but Jack found himself twitching under it regardless. Too late he realized that the Duke of Ryeton was one of those rare people who paid attention, always looking for what lay just below the surface.

“You should speak to my brother about that,” came the duke’s equally dry reply. “I believe he wrote the chapter on gentlemen who traffic in trade.” The slight emphasis on “gentlemen” turned Jack’s mouth arid.

“What the hell are you on about?” Archer demanded, words slightly slurred by too much scotch. “Of course Friday’s a gen’lemen, despite having a day for a last name.”

Neither Ryeton nor Jack glanced at the younger of the brothers. To be honest, Jack was afraid that if he tore his gaze away the duke might see it as a sign of weakness. Again, it was another mistake, because any man not born to the same world as the Kanes would have lowered his eyes by now.

“I know he’s a gentleman.” Ryeton’s reply was smooth and deceptively light. And then: “What I want to know is why he pretends otherwise.”

“Bollocks.” Archer scowled at his brother, even as Jack’s stomach took a dip. “Jack’s top-notch. Cheats at cards, though.” The unexpected and entirely untrue remark drew Jack’s surprised stare. Archer didn’t notice.

“Pay him no mind,” Ryeton said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “He’s always done that.”

“Lie?” Jack asked, his gaze once again turning to the older man. Christ, now he knew how butterflies pinned to a board must feel—aside from dead.

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