Page 74 of Rules for a Wicked Wager

Mari scanned Lord Rimbury for damage. He was roughed up, certainly. His jaw had a swelling bruise, and his cravat would never be the same. But he seemed to be standing well enough, though his eyes burned with fury.

The other men had fared worse. Bruises abounded, many were missing teeth, and one was limping. But she couldn’t tell if Lord Rimbury had done it or if that was their natural state. Either way, they held Lord Rimbury firmly by his cravat—using it as a kind of noose—and randomly shook him just to be mean.

It made her blood boil.

She started to go to his defense, but Peter’s arms tightened about her. “Not yet,” he said in a low tone.

She disliked waiting, but knew he was right. They needed a plan, but she hadn’t the least idea what.

“At least they haven’t seen the footman.”

He glanced her way. “Robin?”

She leaned in tight to whisper in his ear. “I never got his name. He brought me your note at the ball, then left to find different clothes for Lord Rimbury and himself.” She shifted on his lap, and his hands tightened, holding her still. “I could step out and find him.”

“No.” The word was cold for all that he nuzzled against her neck. “It’s too dangerous. I want you right by my side.”

“So I can protect you?” she teased, even though this was no laughing matter. And yet a part of her was giddy with happiness. Finally, she was having an adventure that would live up to her wayward name.

He growled his answer. “I’ll try to buy him. Easiest way to avoid a fight.”

There were so many questions, but she didn’t have time to ask. Suddenly, Peter growled loudly at her. “He’s not that pretty. You sure you want ’im?”

It took her a moment to adjust, but she knew her cue. “I am.”

He gave her a loud smack on the lips, then he turned to the leader. “Me laidy wants to play with yer lordling over there. How much fer a night with the bloke?”

Lord Rimbury’s eyes widened in shock. “I am not—”

“Shut up!” Silas said, cuffing him roughly. Mari bolted upright, even though Peter kept a firm hand on her arm.

“Hey! Keep him pretty.” She tried to disguise her voice, but Lord Rimbury recognized her, and his eyes widened with horror.

“Bloody hell,” he breathed.

Silas wasn’t letting him go. “He’s my toy, and I ain’t sharing.”

Peter stood, slouching a bit as he cuffed an arm around her shoulders. “Aw, come now. Ye’ve stolen his purse, humiliated him in front of ever’body. Why not make a few extra coins on him while you can?”

Silas clicked his teeth together, apparently considering his options. He wasn’t a fast thinker. Meanwhile, Peter tossed a coin at the barmaid.

“A round of drinks on me.”

The knot of men around Lord Rimbury cheered, then Peter stepped in front of her. “Come on,” he coaxed. “Let a bloke entertain his laidy.”

“A guinea,” Silas said.

It worked! They would get out of here without so much as an ugly look from anyone but Lord Rimbury. Except Peter laughed, his tone spiteful.

“Don’t be daft. He ain’t worth it, and I ain’t got it. Two shilling an’ no more.”

“Two shilling?” Silas scoffed. “For a night with a lord?”

“Two shilling, and I make sure ’e don’t set the constable on ye tomorrow.”

The waitress was handing out tankards of ale as fast as she could. Mari could see the fear in her eyes. Best the men start drinking soon. They certainly couldn’t hold Lord Rimbury as tight with their hands wrapped around their drinks.

Meanwhile, Peter was pressing his point. “Didn’t think about the constable, did ye? That there is Lord Rimbury, he is. Right bugger of an idiot, but no one said the nobs had any sense.”