Her eyes still bored holes in him. He must look like Swiss cheese by now.
“Perhaps you wanted to see theBlack Ravenfor yourself?” Her voice remained even and calm though she probably wanted nothing better than to put those ink-stained fingers around his neck. This barely concealed dislike was novel, and because of who she was he couldn’t dismiss it. It made him itch with anticipation.
“Let me put you out of your misery,” the countess said. She stood up and walked over to the fireplace, where she promptly picked up a fire poker, weighing it in her hands.
Oliver looked at the poker and nearly laughed out loud. Surely not! He had been threatened by much worse and survived.
“How much are you getting?” she asked.
“Pardon?” His eyes were riveted to her hands, studying the way her fingers curled around the shaft of the wrought-iron poker.Damn me.
“How much are you getting from your little bet?” she asked; the fire poker tapped against her black skirt in a steady rhythm.
“Wager,” he corrected, before he mentally smacked himself.Oh, yes, that was very well done, you foxed fool.
She inclined her head. “I stand corrected.”
He watched as the fire poker changed hands. He could take her if he needed to, he decided. She was only a slip of a woman,after all. He’d feint to the right, catch her wrist and kiss her witless.Oh, yes, good plan.
“Lady Blackhurst, this is not necessary. I really should go. I am disgracefully intoxicated and shall remove myself immediately.”
He was up in a wobbly flash, but his legs refused to move any further. His eyes never left the fire poker, which she now raised and poked at the coals in the grate with exaggerated stabbing motions. He could not see her face but imagined she was scowling fit to make spring birds drop stone-cold-dead from their branches. He smiled at the thought. It was an involuntary reaction, surely, to the ludicrousness of this situation.
She spun to face him, fire poker drawn level with his heart. “Do sit down, Bellamy.”
This time he did laugh. He was in no doubt he could overpower her before she did much harm with that mere stick in her hand—as pointy and well-crafted as it seemed.
“I believe you owe me an answer, Lord Bellamy.” She moved towards him brandishing the poker like a rapier. He couldn’t believe his bloodshot eyes. He laughed louder. He nearly told her to keep the tip up, until he saw where her target was and it was no longer his heart. He stopped laughing.
“Two hundred pounds,” he confessed with a slow smile, for there was no longer any reason to conceal his true mission here. Confounded woman had him at a disadvantage though. If only Henry had not been such a blasted fool, leaving him with more debt than he knew how to handle, a doddery old aunt, and two entailed estates full of dependents.Oh, and no money.
He saw her glance at the mantel and realized his time was up. Should he start praying now or…? He wanted to laugh again. If only the Frenchies could see him now. Undone by a handsome widow and a fire poker.
Her gaze left the clock and seemed to focus on his cravat. “I fail to see what is so amusing to you, Lord Bellamy. I can only assume you know of my reputation. Why else would you be here? Ah, yes, the money. Two hundred pounds, was it? How would you like to earn a lot more?”
This was a twist he had not expected. “Excuse me?”
She glided over to him and pointed the poker at his vitals. “Let me explain it for you. Theselittle wagershave been happening for quite some time, Lord Bellamy. You see, you are not the first man to sit on my steps and demand entrance. Some have even tried to break in. I find this whole businessverychildish and most annoying. Can you understand my frustration, Lord Bellamy?” The poker came very close to his pride.
“Yes, most annoying,” he replied, his eyes riveted on the poker. She had no idea how easily he could turn this scenario on its, or in this case, her derrière. He was too intrigued, however, by her suggestion to bother demonstrating just now.
“However, if you will assist me, Bellamy, I think you will be more than happy with the arrangement I am proposing.” She stared at him coolly.
“Arrangement?” The fire poker remained hovering above his most important asset.
“Yes. I find I require an escort. You see, I presume there are a number of… outstanding wagers concerning my reputation as the Black Raven, and I will allow you to collect them on the condition you but play thegentlemanlyescort.” She took the poker away from his crotch. “Are we in agreement?”
He took a deep breath. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it. This annoyed him more than her gall to try and threaten him. “And where would I be escorting you, madam?”
“To the theater, the opera, some balls, soirees, and the like.” She turned as if dismissing him as a danger to her.
“And for how long would I need to be your escort?”
“Until the end of the London season,” she announced.
This was certainly not what he had expected, but then he had anticipated some old hag with a black bird on her shoulder.
“And I get to collectallthe wagers?” he asked, contemplating the vast amount of money that could become available to him, with little or no effort. It would give him the perfect cover. So far, he had been able to hide his desperate financial situation from not only thetonbut the creditors as well and he wanted to keep it that way.
