What is a proper young lady to do when she finds a stranger sleeping in her bed?
Angelique Grafton doesn't know much about love. Resigned to marry the man her late parents intended for her, she can't help dreaming of more than a loveless marriage. W...
"Exactly the one." Gowthorpe smiled. "We had a nice meeting last week and I wouldn't mind seeing her again."
"It's your sister's engagement ball," Winter remarked hesitantly. "Should you really be seducing women?"
"There is no time or place that is not for seducing women." Wortham chuckled.
"And she is a nice-looking woman," Nathaniel agreed.
"Not that you should notice anymore," Gowthorpe said stiffly, causing Wortham to burst out laughing again.
"God, Gowthorpe," he said as his laugh abated to a chuckle. "Give the man some rest. I know he's marrying your sister, but he's not blind."
Ignoring the earl—which was usually the best tactic to use—Gowthorpe turned to Winter. "Have you met Lady Garland? She's a few years older but absolutely stunning. Cherry lips. Chocolate brown hair. Skin like rich milk."
"Bloody hell," Wortham burst out with a disgusted look at his friend. "Must you compare all your women to food?"
"Why not?" The viscount shrugged. "I love both."
Nathaniel finished dealing the cards and looked down to see what he'd received when Wortham nodded to something across the room.
"I see Chettisham has no qualms about showing his face at the club after spreading those rumours," the earl said.
Looking up, seeing the other man instantly ignited something inside him as he watched him laugh with some friends. What he had done to Angel was unforgivable. Pushing her into a corner she could only escape by marriage. Chettisham's plan had obviously been to make her marry him, but it had backfired as she was now marrying Nathaniel. He hoped the other man hated it. He hoped Angel would never have to see his face again.
Rising from his chair, he felt Wortham's hand on his arm and looked down at his friend. "Don't do this, Pensington. You will make a scene and you have your engagement ball to get to."
"I just want to talk to him," Nathaniel said, pulling his arm free. "Make sure he knows not to show up anywhere Angel is."
"Give him my regards," Gowthorpe suggested coolly.
He nodded and walked across the room. Wortham followed a few paces behind, obviously not trusting him to go alone. They neared the group of men where Chettisham stood, only to hear the man brag loudly.
"Oh yes, she sure spread her legs wide for me."
"Bloody hell," Nathaniel cursed and forcefully grabbed the other man's shoulder to spin him around. At the sight of him, Chettisham blanched but had no time to react before Nathaniel's fist connected solidly with his jaw. The impact surprised him enough to make him stumble back a step, trip on a rug, and fall flat on his arse.
"What happened to talking?" Wortham asked dryly as he looked down at Chettisham, who wisely made no attempt to stand.
"I changed my mind," Nathaniel growled.
"Obviously." His friend chuckled. "I think it's time you return home to prepare for your engagement party instead."
With a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder, he guided him back to their table, where Winter sat with his mouth wide open while Gowthorpe looked oddly satisfied. Finishing the remaining brandy in his glass in one sweep, Nathaniel shook his head.
"What was that about?" Winter asked.
"He still hasn't stopped spreading rumours." He flexed his hands, fighting the urge to go back for another round.
Gowthorpe seemed to share his thoughts as he grunted, "Should have given him a few more for good measure."
"Another time," Wortham said. "Time to get ready for the ball."
"Fine," Nathaniel muttered. "But if anyone sees that bastard anywhere near Angel in the future, let me know."
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