This chit was altogether too obvious. “Ladies, Bella, only play games of chance in the safe confines of their drawing rooms, or at house parties. Pin money rarely pays enough to play the tables atThe Leaf.”
Her lips pinched before she opened her mouth to?—
“The only ladies you will find at Arthur Harris’s house, dear Bella, are the verywillingsort.”
Her cheeks pinked.
Milton leaned back in his chair, pleased he’d dealt a blow to her none-too-clever plan. Though he’d best warn Arty the lady was not above scheming her way to his tables. And he’d best marry this girl off to some dull fellow fast.
“Had lunch with ’er, didya?”
Milton watched his friend’s lips thin; Arty looked displeased.
“An’ here I thoughtIwere the man s’posed t’ court her.”
“Who the hell was that lout I just saw leave, Arty?” Milton had knocked shoulders with a rough fellow exitingThe Leaf’soffice.
“None o’ yer beeswax, Jasp.” Arty grimaced. “Now, why’re you here—other than t’ vex me?”
Unlike Arthur Harris, Milton chose not to converse in the language of their youth except when necessary—or when his emotions got the better of him. Which they did not. Arty, on the other hand, only spoke like a toff when he had to.
“Miss Winthrop is up to new tricks. She asked one too many questions of you over lunch.”
“Well, well.” Arty propped his feet on his desk. “The miss done likes me after all.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, man. She was asking aboutThe Leafand about other gaming hells where ladiesmight play. She also had me drop her near a pawnshop owned by a ruthless fence. If that’s the Lombard the Winthrop girls have been using all these years, no wonder they?—”
“Fuck,” Arty ground out. “I thought I warned ’er off that scheme.”
“The lady appears impatient.” Milton was himself impatient to get home. “I need to step up my search for an appropriate suitor, Arty. The Denbigh ball this weekend should be an ideal excuse to parade her about.”
“Aren’t the Denbighs?—?”
“Wellesley’s in-laws, yes. I’ll get you an invitation.”
“Jasper, why the devil would I want to?—?”
“You will attend, Arty, and fawn all over Miss Winthrop so that other men take notice. A woman pursued is a woman desirous. You know how things work.”
Arty scowled. “Y’ ask much, Jasp.”
“You owe me much, and it’s not as if I require you to seduce the chit, not that she isn’t pretty enough to turn your voracious head.”
“She’stoopretty…” he grumbled.
“Then it should be no feat of heroism on your part to charm her. You’ve danced and flirted with enough women to?—”
“But them twists an’ twirls weren’t ladies.”
Milton took pause. “Arty, you are not falling for Miss Annabelle, are you?”
“God no!”
“Good.” Milton grabbed his hat and cane. “I’ll clue Wells in. He might even know an earl or viscount eager to wed. I’ll need names and information if I’m to have influence. And Arty…” He halted at the door. “Pay attention to which fools are getting fleeced at your tables, ones that might be nudged. Annabelle Winthrop would make any man an agreeable wife.”
“Jasp, wait.”
Milton stopped.
