| |
Rory stormed into his club, searching for the reprobate who dared to kiss his sister and Lady Dallis. He found the earl bragging to his cronies of his exploits, and about the previous evening at a brothel attended by most the ton. Rory stopped and slugged him across the face. Lord Phipps slid to the floor in a heap, blood streaming from his nose. The red flow drenched his starched white shirt. The earl’s friends scattered away from Rory’s temper. He stooped and pulled the earl to his face with his cravat.
“If you ever so much as attempt to kiss my sister or Lady Dallis again, you will end up with more than a broken nose. Do I make myself clear?”
The earl nodded eagerly, his eyes wide agreeing to Rory’s demands.
The whispered words of Rory's association with Lady Dallis would soon spread, the book filling with wagers about their relationship. Rory didn’t care, he'd had his revenge and his temper started to cool.
As he rose and turned to leave, he encountered the smirks of the Duke of Sheffield and Lord Wildeburg, the husbands of Sidney and Sophia. They lifted their glasses as he passed and said, “Welcome to the club.”
He stopped. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, he has it bad,” Wildeburg quipped.
“Worse than us, I declare.” Sheffield agreed.
“Sod off, both of you.”
“Allow us to buy you a drink, my friend. Won’t you please join us in Sheffield’s private room? You look like you could do with a couple.”
Wildeburg urged him down the hallway into a private dining area. Leather bound chairs clustered around the fire and a bottle of scotch rested on the table. As he sat glaring at the men, Wilde poured him a drink and clinked his glass with his. Rory downed the whiskey in one swallow, causing the men to laugh more. Once Wilde topped his glass again, Rory relaxed in the chair. Punching Phipps and the alcohol relaxed his temperament.
“I always heard your fists were a force to be reckoned with,” Wilde said.
“They are all I have at the moment.”
“Perhaps we can be of assistance? Wilde has joined me in a business venture. Would you be interested?”
“Sorry, I have no coins for any investment.”
“I can front you and take your deposit off the profits.”
“Sheffield, I do not need your pity.”
“I do not consider it to be a pity, Beckwith. I value your opinion. It is a tricky market I am unfamiliar with, but I feel there could be a huge profit in the venture. I respect your opinion from the discussions we share at Lord Hartridge’s home and would like for you to be a partner.”
“What is the venture?” Rory’s curiosity was drawn.
“A shipment of silk, ivory, and wool.”
Rory whistled his approval. He'd listened to discussions on importing these commodities. If he could invest, the profits would sustain his family for years to come. It would turn the state of their finances out of the red. Then his family would never have to worry about where their next coin came from. He decided to put aside his pride for his family’s sake.
“Count me in. Only on agreement that interest is calculated on the return.”
“Agreed.” Sheffield nodded.
“Now, on to the real source of your temper. Lady Dallis MacPherson.”
Rory remained quiet.
Both men laughed again and Wilde said, “Yes, Sheffield, he is doomed.”
“You should be so lucky to have Lady Dallis’s interest.” Sheffield told him.
“You passed her over easy enough,” said Rory
“Because Sophia held my heart. Anyway, she was not interested. Her heart lay with another.”
“How would you know?”
“She told me on the day we took a walk. The same day my wife laid her head on your shoulder.”
Rory cringed, remembering that day. It was the morning after he pummeled Sheffield in a fit of jealously and rage. Still, now he knew—Dallis loved another, and he didn’t stand a chance.
“Then my pursuit of her would be hopeless.”
“I always heard you hit your opponents in the head. However it would appear you must have been hit in the head too many times yourself.”
“Beckwith, she is in love with you,” Wilde helped him with the confusion, playing the peacemaker.
Rory sat in confusion. Dallis loved him? Was it possible? He thought she might have held an attraction toward him, but never imagined it could be love. Did this change everything?
“Sorry, Sheffield,” Rory muttered.
“I deserved it. For every reason you landed your fists on my face, it was justified.”
“What is your plan?” asked Wilde.
“I have none. During their visit this afternoon for tea, my mother brought up an introduction between Lord Holdenburg and Lady Dallis. Lady Ratcliff agreed that it would be an excellent match.”
Both men looked grim. Every lady who encountered Holdenburg’s charms was drawn under his spell never to return. Rory’s sister was the only lady immune to the scoundrel’s charm. Holdenburg was a close friend of their family. When they'd attended school at Eton, Rory ran with him and got into more trouble than their mothers desired. His family also held ties to Ireland. After Wildeburg married Sidney Hartridge, Holdenburg moved into the slot as the most sought-after scoundrel in the ton. His stories were legendary in their own right. That was the main source of Rory's anger. He knew that as soon as the introductions were made between Dallis and Holdenburg, Rory would pale in her eyes. She would no longer be interested in the possible danger of Rory Beckwith, instead she would be tempted by the smooth charm of Lord Devon Holdenburg.
Rory acknowledged their expressions. “My sentiments exactly.”
“Perhaps Sidney can assist?” Wilde suggested.
“With one of her love experiments?” Rory scoffed.
“Yes, except for now she is referring to them as love matches. After Sheffield and Sophia got married, Sidney now calls herself a matchmaker.”
“She was not involved in our relationship,” Sheffield stated.
“Wasn’t she, my friend? Who do you think assisted Belle? Also, the masquerade dinner was her idea.”
“So, I have her to blame for almost losing Phee.”
Rory watched as they argued about Sheffield’s bizarre courtship to Sophia. It caused the biggest scandal the ton had ever seen. Any other couple would have been ostracized to the country. However, the sweet nature of Sophia and the devotion displayed by Sheffield endeared them to the ton. The sweetest soul to mankind brought a scoundrel to heel. How his friend softened such a hardened bastard remained a mystery. Even his own relationship with Sheffield had changed. At one time the duke thought himself so far above Rory and barely tolerated him, and now Sheffield considered him an equal. All due to Sophia. Rory sometimes still wanted to beat to a pulp both of the men who sat before him, because of their actions toward the two women who were like sisters to him. One of the gentleman he did. Still, they were not lightened in his eyes. They would have to continue to treat the women with love for him to soften. Until then he would respect his friends’ decisions and be willing to change his mind in the time to come.
Rory rose. “Give your ladies my love and please do not interfere. For now, it would be in Lady Dallis’s best interest to become acquainted with Lord Holdenburg.”
“Yes ... well, you see, you have already interfered in your relationship with Lady Dallis. By now bets are being made in that regard, probably at this moment,” Sheffield said.
“How so?”
“Your punch to Lord Phipps?” Wilde reminded him.
Damn. Rory wanted to punch himself for such an idiot move. Now his mistake would tie his name to Dallis for this season and all to come, especially if nobody offered for her hand. When Rory had mentioned Dallis's name with the punch, he'd declared his intention toward the lady. If he would have only said his sister’s name, they would understand he defended Kathleen’s honor. He slouched back in the chair, drinking the whiskey that Sheffield refilled for him.
He continued to sit and drink all afternoon with Sheffield and Wildeburg as they offered advice on his newfound dilemma. The other gentlemen didn’t drink. To their dismay he finished the bottle, and with a wave he dismissed their offer to help him home.
Before he went anywhere though, he needed to offer his apologies to the lady he offended. Once he sobered, he would realize he only made matters worse.