As tempting of an offer as it was, he might just be opening Pandora’s Box by starting up with her again. And yet…
Meet me at the little wooden bench behind the folly at midnight. You won’t regret it. –M.
Miranda.
A glance at his timepiece revealed it was not quite eleven. The night was yet young.
Chase carefully refolded the parchment and tucked it into his coat. The invitation was problematic but also… tempting. His cock stirred as he remembered the variety of bedsport she’d introduced him to. It was one certain way to release the irritation building inside of him.
“You in, Chase?” Stone demanded.
In answer, Chase tossed his ante into the pot.
Two hands later and he was down fifty pounds. Since he apparently wasn’t going to be lucky at cards this evening, he might as well be lucky at love—or more accurately—at lust.
“I’m off.” He pushed back his chair. “You’ll have to filch some other poor bloke for the remainder of the evening.”
Perhaps Chase would take a stroll through the garden after all…
“I’m out too. The supper dance commences soon, and I’ve promised some chit’s mother that I’d partner her daughter,” Mantis rose.
“Anyone we know?” Stone ceased shuffling the cards long enough to ask as the larger man rose.
“Is there anyone you don’t?” Mantis certainly was in ill humor.
“Who is this most tolerant lady who’s willing to take a turn with you?” Chase teased.
“Miss Coleus Mossant. Lady Felicity had promised me the set, initially, but later changed her mind.”
“Impudent chit,” Greys commented.
“Says she accidentally promised it twice. Makes no difference to me.” Mantis grimaced with a shrug. “Lady Felicity’s loss is Miss Mossant’s gain.”
“Have a care,” Stone warned. Because they all knew that a mother’s involvement was never a good thing.
“Worry about yourself,MisterSpencer,” Mantis grumbled.
Not well done at all of Lady Felicity. It was no wonder Mantis was in a mood.
With a silent wave, Chase sauntered out the door before heading down the corridor to the much louder, larger gathering in the ballroom. Perhaps they all needed some of what he was going to get that evening.
The air whooshedout of Bethany’s lungs at Delia’s announcement. “Lord Chaswick? But he’s in the card room.”
“The trap is set for midnight.”
“Thank God.” The dancers had just begun another quadrille, so by her estimation, she had not quite an hour to undo Delia’s older sister’s reprehensible plan.
“We have to stop her.”
Delia covered her face with her hands. “I was afraid you were going to say that. Rachel’s going to make life miserable for me after this. That is, if she doesn’t murder me in my sleep first.”
“What exactly is she planning to do, Delia? I need to know everything.”
“And, of course, she’ll tell Mother. But I had to say something. I knew it wasn’t right. And he’s such a nice person, for a rake and all—"
“Delia.” Bethany resisted the urge to snap her fingers. “What is Rachel planning to do?”
The other girl sat up straight and seemed to gather her bearings. “At your mother’s house party…”
