Seduced by a Scoundrel - By Barbara Dawson Smith Page 0,86
I can handle the details myself.”
“But you’re helpless,” the duchess said blandly. “You said so yourself.”
“And you’re impertinent. Run along now, Your Grace. At least the shopkeepers will be happy to see you.”
“How will you get home?” she asked.
“I’ll send for my coach.” Dismissing her with a wave, he studied Drake with a strangely secretive interest. “Have a seat, Wilder. I’m interested to hear how you managed to build this gambling club from nothing.”
“Sorry, I’m too busy for idle chatter,” Drake said flatly. “Cheever, I’ll need the account ledger for last month.”
His rudeness angered Alicia. Where was his generous spirit now?
As the bookkeeper wheeled around and plucked a leather-bound book from the shelf behind the desk, she bent to James and murmured, “Please wait for me in Sarah’s coach. I need a word with my husband.”
“You must promise we’ll return here very soon.” That cunning smile hovered about the younger man’s mouth. “Perhaps I’ll even bring Father next time. I’m sure that once he gets over his little fuss, he’ll want to become better acquainted with your husband.”
James knew that Lord Hailstock had no such desire. Was it boredom that made him so determined to stir up trouble? Alicia could only hope that once the wheeled chair gave him more mobility, he would develop other interests.
A pair of footmen carried the litter out to the coach, and Sarah followed, giving Drake and Alicia a droll glance as she departed. “Take your time,” she murmured. “It will annoy James exceedingly.”
Then Lazarus Cheever discreetly exited the office, leaving Alicia alone with Drake.
As she closed the door, intent on remonstrating him, his strong arms enfolded her from behind. The feel of his hard body caused a traitorous leap in her pulse, and the aroma of his shaving soap tantalized her. Without subtlety, his fingers spread over her belly. As he rubbed his cheek against her hair, his warm breath tickled her ear, raising a flurry of goose bumps over her skin.
“I thought they’d never leave,” he said in a husky growl.
“I thought you were busy today,” she said, holding herself rigidly.
“I’m never too busy for you, my lady.” His lips brushed the nape of her neck and his hands roamed to her bosom. Shivery desire swelled in her, threatening to obliterate her anger.
She twisted away, pivoting to face him. “Enough,” she stated. “I wish to know why you were so uncivil to James.”
“Was I uncivil? Perhaps my mind was on other matters.” Stunningly handsome in a dark blue coat and buff-colored breeches, he stalked her with aggressive sensuality. “I could think of nothing but being alone with my wife.”
Her heart beating faster, she retreated behind the desk. “And I can think of nothing but how rudely you treated my guest—my longtime friend. James deserves your compassion, not your contempt.”
“If he wanted my compassion, he ought to have behaved better.”
“You despised him before he even said a word. Why is it that you can show sympathy toward Cheever but not toward James?”
“Cheever is a hardworking man. His lordship is a vain, self-serving aristocrat.”
“That isn’t why. You dislike him simply because he is Lord Hailstock’s son.”
Drake’s eyes glittered with an intensity that had little to do with physical passion. His features darkly compelling against the white of his cravat, he braced his palms on the desk and leaned toward her. “Speaking of Hailstock, I’d like to know why you disobeyed me and went to his house.”
“Because I won’t abandon my friends just to suit your whims.”
“You were to wait for me to escort you there at my convenience.”
“And when would it suit your convenience? Next year? Or perhaps five years from now?”
His mouth quirked into a tolerant smile. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I’ve no wish to associate with those who think themselves superior to me.”
That confused her. Did his bitterness extend beyond Lord Hailstock? “You’re contradicting yourself,” she said slowly. “You married me in order to seek acceptance by society. You knew that many in the ton would view themselves as your better. And now you’re saying that you don’t wish to associate with them?”
His eyes narrowed to a deep, impenetrable blue. Again, she sensed mysteries in him that eluded her understanding. If he despised all the nobility, then where did that leave her?
In a flash of movement, he rounded the desk and caught her to him, locking her in his embrace. Putting his face to her hair, he inhaled deeply. “I scorn any man who dares to touch you. And Hailstock has dared. He