About to put voice to a protest, Marcus couldn’t when David headed toward the card parlor. Huffing, Marcus brushed a hand across his behind in an attempt to determine how much damage had been done to his breeches. Deciding his topcoat tails would hide the evidence of the tear, he hurried to catch up to the baron.
David paused on the threshold, a most delicious excitement making him grin when he spotted his betrothed sitting across from Richard, Earl of Penhurst. In a room filled with gentlemen wearing dark topcoats and garish waistcoats of various colors and a few rather conservatively dressed women, Marian shone like a gold foil-backed diamond. She had a deck of cards in one hand and her gaze on a set of three cards she had dealt to the earl.
His shyness nearly returned when she glanced up and gave him a brilliant smile. “Oh, my dearest,” she blurted as she dropped the deck of cards to the table and stood.
David gave her a matching grin and hurried to take her hand to his lips. “Oh, my sweet. You look lovelier than when I last saw you,” he gushed as he bowed, well aware that Marcus watched from the threshold. As for the others in the room, well, he hadn’t noticed there were four other tables of card players engaged in games of whist until the noise in the room died down somewhat at his sudden appearance and declaration.
Across the table, Richard’s eyes rounded as David kissed his niece on the cheek. “Engleston? What the?—?”
“Remember, no names,” David interrupted as he raised a finger in the direction of the earl, his gaze never leaving Marian’s. “We’re at the Soho Club.”
Richard scoffed. “I don’t care where we are. You’ll unhand Miss Copper this very instant.”
Miss Copper. Marian Copper, David reasoned, still holding onto her warm gloved hand. In the brighter lighting of the card parlor, he discovered she was prettier than he remembered. Fairer, too, her features soft and set on a heart-shaped face with translucent skin. Her hair, which had appeared brunette upstairs, was highlighted with strands of gold and mahogany that shimmered under the room’s chandelier. “I must say, I’m thrilled you are the uncle of such a fine creature as my sweet,” David responded. “Are you also her guardian?”
One of Richard’s brows furrowed in suspicion. “I am indeed,” he answered slowly.
“Oh, good. Then let us make this betrothal official, shall we?” David went on, emboldened enough to complete the niceties. “Will you give me permission to marry your niece?” He was aware of his sweet’s mouth rounding although her gaze never left him to see that her uncle had settled back in his chair and splayed his fingers on the felt tabletop.
“Well, now that all depends,” Richard replied slowly, well aware Viscount Huntley had returned to the chair he had occupied earlier. A quick glance in his direction proved he was experiencing as much disbelief as he was.
“On what?” David asked, finally diverting his gaze from Marian to regard the earl with an arched brow. Richard’s attention was on his niece, though, and she tore her gaze from David to stare back at him.
“Indeed, on what?” she asked in dismay.
