Page 40 of A Deal for the Duke’s Virgin

Maeve Hartley herself met Christian at the door. She was a short, fat woman who boasted of never having been beautiful yet snared the richest merchant in all of England. This part, as far as Christian could tell, was true. She had a handsome face, round and pleasant, but it was her mind that had secured her one of the most profitable clubs in London. He hardly dared think of how much money the place made. A fortune was lost at the card-tables every single night, and cards were not the only games played.

“Your Grace!” she exclaimed with unabashed delight. “How wonderful to see you. I was starting to think that you had forsaken us for that dreadful Tabitha Sundry’s new place. I hear it’s truly awful.”

“Oh, have you? I heard that her dice games stripped a lord’s son of his fortune and handed it to a merchant only last night,” Christian responded with a grin, letting a blank-faced footman take his coat and hat.

Maeve pulled a face. “Ugh. All the women there have the pox, I heard.”

“Good gracious. Well, Tabitha Sundry speaks well of you.”

“She does not. I know exactly what she says. She says that my card tables are rigged and that the house always wins. Well, you play a hand or two tonight, Your Grace, and you tell me whether it’s rigged.”

“I’m not here for cards,” Christian admitted. “I am here for company.”

A brief, crafty look crossed Maeve’s face. “Ah, then you are in luck. My cousin is visiting.”

“Your cousin?” Christian repeated incredulously. “My dear Mrs. Hartley, I certainly hope you aren’t taking me for a gull.”

“I’d be a fool to do that. No, she really is my cousin. Her name is Charlotte Linnux, but we all call her Lottie. Captain Linnux is off in India, and I don’t believe they even write these days. She’s lonely,” Maeve added pointedly. “But none of my guests tonight have caught her interest. Shall I introduce you, or will you manage it yourself?”

She gestured to the fireplace where a woman sat alone, feet up on her fender, a large glass of wine cradled in her hand. As Christian watched, a mustached young man loped towards her, leaning over and whispering a few words. A sharp reply came. He flinched and pulled back.

“I shall introduce myself,” Christian decided with a smirk.

Maeve nodded knowingly and turned to greet the next guest stepping through the door.

The parlor was set aside as a quiet spot. Ladies and gentlemen sat side by side, talking in low voices. A couple of drunken fools slept off their over-intoxication.

The drawing room and ballroom were where the gambling happened, along with the drinking and the japes. Nobody sat in the parlor if they wanted a good time.

“Mrs. Linnux, I assume?” Christian murmured, approaching the woman in the chair.

She glanced up at him, and he was immediately struck by how young she looked. A closer inspection put her at about twenty-five, but she had the misfortune of appearing a few years younger. With golden hair, round blue eyes, and a doll-like face, Mrs. Linnux would easily have broken hearts by the handful in London.

He suspected that her cousin and her own poor status had prevented her from slaying gentlemen in London. Like many beautiful but poor young women, she had probably grabbed at the first man who offered her marriage and called it love. A red-coat captain, for example.

“I don’t mean to disturb you,” he said softly. “May I sit?”

She eyed him for a long moment. “Very well,” she said.

He settled down, propping up his feet just as she was.

“I am the Duke of Thornhill,” he said comfortably. “But in here, I am Christian.”

She gave a wry smile and sipped her wine. “And I am Lottie.”

“A fine name. Are you staying with your cousin for long?”

“It seems so. I have no money, you see. My husband will not support me and occupies himself with his mistress in India.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

She shrugged. “It does not matter. What of you, Christian? No wife? I don’t care to keep company with married men.”

“I am not married.”

“Very wise. Avoid it if you can.”

She leaned forward, revealing a stack of letters in her lap. She tossed one idly into the fire and watched it burn.