cynical visage that it made him the obvious choice for her first official affaire. And yet he faded into obscurity standing next to Benedick.
Benedick. It should have felt strange to think of him by his Christian name. Instead it felt oddly right.
A servant was hovering close at hand, and she signaled to him. If she were the kind of woman who let setbacks affect her, then she would have curled up in a ball years ago and shut out the world. So Viscount Rohan insisted she was the last woman in the world he’d have an affaire with?
It was time to show him otherwise.
24
Benedick was determined not to look back. He could feel her dark blue gaze on him, almost like a brand. Damn the woman! As if things weren’t bad enough.
“She’s a pretty bit of pastry, ain’t she?” Harry said appreciatively. “I never realized how tempting Charity might be.”
“Not tempting for you, my lad,” Benedick replied. “She needs a good man, and I know from old acquaintance that you are most definitely not he.”
“I beg your pardon!” Harry protested. “I’m an absolute lamb!” He giggled. “Not that she’s the mistress type. She’s the sort to get leg-shackled or I miss my guess. Not out for bit of hide-the-sausage.”
Benedick controlled his urge to glare at him.
“Exactly. Which is why I’m keeping my distance, as well.”
“It didn’t appear that way a few days ago…
Elsmere’s closet seemed put to good use.”
How could he have forgotten that little tidbit? The woman was scrambling his brains. He still had the garter he’d taken from her. For some odd reason he carried it with him. Perhaps to remind him of how much trouble she was. “It was enjoyable enough,” he acknowledged. “But you’re right, she needs a husband whether she realizes it or not, and you might have a difficult time escaping.”
It had been exactly the right thing to say. Harry shuddered. “Heavens! That’s the last thing I want.”
In for a penny, in for a pound, Rohan thought. “And I doubt she’d be to your liking between the sheets. Despite my best efforts she lay there stiff as a board, and if you think you could get her to do anything more than lie on her back you’d be sadly mistaken. She thinks mouths were meant for closed kisses and nothing more.”
Fortunately Harry was too much of a shatter-brain to notice that tonight was the first time in their decades-long acquaintance that Rohan had ever participated in gutter talk. “Good God,” Harry breathed. “I’d best steer clear of her. Next thing I know she’ll start putting out her lures toward me, especially if you’ve dropped her. In fact, I believe she already has tonight. I count this a fortunate escape. Thank you, old man. I appreciate the warning.”
Rohan bared his teeth in what should have been a smile. “It’s the least a friend could do.”
He finally allowed himself to turn then, to glance back at her, but there were too many people in the way, obscuring her divan. Probably surrounded by more fawning young men, he thought sourly. He couldn’t very well scare them all off—he’d have to count on her unstoppable energy to terrify the rest of them.
“Merton!” A voice came from behind him, light and affected, and he turned around to find himself looking down into Arthur Pennington’s bloodshot eyes. Pennington glanced at him and an expression of uneasiness came into his eyes, and Rohan wondered why. Did Pennington suspect they’d been in the tunnels at Kersley Hall? But how was that even possible?
“Rohan,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “Didn’t know it was you.”
“Your servant, Pennington,” he said politely. “Have you been keeping yourself busy?” It was a loaded question, but he could hardly hope Pennington was about to confess to all his debauched pastimes.
He was surprised. Pennington’s tight grin was positively salacious. “Indeed, I have. Not that it’s for public knowledge, but a few of us have been having quite a grand time…”
“Lord Elsmere’s attempting to gain your attention,” Harry said suddenly, then giggled. “Excuse me, Pennington, didn’t mean to interrupt.”
But Benedick was not about to let Pennington go if he felt inclined to be informative. “Harry, would you do me the great favor of seeing if Elsmere is interested in a game of cards?”
A look of unexpected frustration crossed Harry’s face, but then he smiled again. “Of course. I need hardly worry that you’d believe any of Pennington’s fairy tales.”
Pennington failed to look offended, probably because he hadn’t heard Harry’s