There was nothing in the world that could affect him now. No mother would ever want him for her daughter; no moneylender would grant him the sum needed to clear his debts. And Jacob Barrington, reluctant Marquess of Sunderland, told himself he was happy.
“My lord?” came a husky voice. She had striking dark curls that tumbled loosely down her back. No doubt she had just exited a bed with another man. He found he didn’t care. And, although she was objectively extremely pretty, he had no interest in seeing what skills she had learnt as she had worked her way up the courtesan ranks.
He trailed an absent finger along her shoulder and then flicked her away. “I already have a drink.”
“I thought perhaps you could do with some company, my lord,” she said, not shifting from where she was bent over him, breasts visible through her gaping neckline. “You haven’t had any entertainment all night.”
He gave her a sharp smile. “I’m not looking for entertainment, my dear.” Even inebriated, he knew that much.
The only lady he wanted had left London because he had chased her away. And now she was gone, he was beginning to understand just how much of a hold she had on his heart. The only thing that kept him from chasing after her was the knowledge that she would be happier without him. And even that certainty was losing its allure. Once he’d thoughthewould be happier without her, and he’d been drunk for three days and nights now, drowning the pain the only way he knew how.
The woman pouted at him, no doubt intending to showcase her plump bottom lip. “Then why are we here?”
“For everyone else.” He gestured.
“You would like it, my lord, if I could show you how to relax.”
“I am certain you are skilled.” He caught her hand as she attempted to walk it up his thigh. “And yet your beauty leaves me indifferent.”
Her eyes flashed with irritation. No doubt that wasn’t what she was accustomed to hearing. And in the past, he had been very generous with his mistresses. No doubt she wanted a bite of his estate.
Too bad.
“You’ll be paid for your troubles,” he said, taking another long drink. It was scotch after all. “And if it concerns you, you may tell whoever you please that you were with me. Say whatever you like.”
She frowned. “Don’t you care?”
“I care for nothing.”
“Barrington,” one of the other gentlemen called. “Have you tried this wine?” He laughed drunkenly as the woman on his lap poured it into his mouth, the burgundy liquid splashing down his shirt. “Imported directly from France.”
“I’ll bring you some, my lord,” the girl in front of him said quickly, rising to fetch a jug of it. While he waited, he tossed back the remainder of the scotch in his glass and put it unsteadily on the table.
When had this ceased to be fun? When he was younger, he had revelled in the parties, the women, the drinking. Now he just felt tired.
The dark-haired girl returned with the jug of wine and straddled his lap, one hand holding the jug and the other skating along the side of his jaw. He didn’t have the energy to remove her.
Perhaps the wine would be enough to help him forget. Finally.
It was as the wine was being poured down his throat that pandemonium broke loose. The door slammed open and a familiar voice rang loud and disgusted.
“What the devil is going on here?”
“Louisa?” Jacob blinked, pushing past the girl to look at his old friend. She strode into the room as though she owned it, and was looking around with her lip curled. Her eyes flashed when they met his, and he gave her a lazy grin. “I’d invite you in, but it seems you’ve dispensed with the necessity.”
She gave him a poisonous glower. “Send them away.”
“But they’re having so much fun.”
The girl on his lap gave him a frown, clearly expecting him to remove Louisa, but if that was what she hoped for, she had misjudged. He valued Louisa far more than a nameless girl. He shrugged, pushing her off, and the wine clattered to the floor, staining the carpet. Scowling, she picked herself up.
“Leave,” he said before she could protest at his treatment of her. Yes, he was an unmanageable bastard; yes, she should hate him. Everyone else did. “Get out. I don’t know or care how you do it so long as you leave.”
The music faltered to a halt. Conversation and laughter dimmed. A few hastily rebuttoned their trousers.
Jacob clapped his hands. “You heard me,” he said. “The party is over.”
Under Louisa’s glower, no one dared argue, and the room slowly emptied. Jacob felt no twinge of remorse. It was hardly as though he had been enjoying himself, and if Louisa was going to flay him with his words, well then she could do her worst.
