Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,34

entertain all the guests. Later, she gave in to the pleas of a group of young gentlemen to sit down with them to play a noisy game of vingt-et-un. She laughed and joked and flirted gently with them all, making sure that not one of them lost more than fifty pounds. Of course she could not dictate to her guests when they played amongst themselves, but it was her strict rule, and she insisted that her aunt and Kate Logan kept to it, despite many of the younger men bragging how much they could lose in one sitting at other houses.

* * *

She was pleased when Kate arrived and she could leave the table and tour the room, making sure that every one of her guests was occupied. No one would guess from her smiles and serene countenance that her mind was elsewhere, that she was watching the clock, and wondering what time Gerald Barnabus might arrive.

There was the bustle of another arrival and Susannah looked up hopefully. It was with mixed feelings that she saw Lord Markham and Mr Camerton walk in. Aunt Maude was already near the door to welcome them so Susannah made no attempt to approach. She watched Mr Camerton seek out Mrs Logan and join her table, while the viscount was persuaded to sit down with his hostess for a game of loo. Susannah could relax a little, at least until the game broke up and she saw the viscount crossing the room towards her.

The tug of attraction was as strong as ever. He moved between the tables with lithe grace, his tall, athletic form clad in the uniform black evening coat and black knee-breeches. She was forcibly reminded of a hunting panther.

And she was the prey.

Shaking off such nonsensical notions Susannah greeted him coolly, which he did not seem to notice. Her hand went automatically into his grasp without her even realising it. As he bowed she gazed at his dark head, trying to calm the fierce tattoo that was beating within her breast as his lips skimmed her fingers. It was as much as she could do to stand still. She must talk to Kate about what these sensations might mean—some instinct told her that Aunt Wilby would not give her an honest answer.

‘Miss Prentess.’ He straightened, subjecting her to that glinting smile. There was something else in his eyes, a dangerous recklessness that did nothing to calm her pulse. She withdrew her fingers, resisting the urge to cradle them in her other hand. She must act naturally, to treat him as she would any other guest.

‘Are you tired of Lanterloo, my lord?’

‘For the moment. I came to see if you would play picquet with me.’

She managed a soft laugh.

‘You know I will not, my lord.’

‘Then for the moment I shall be an observer.’

‘As you wish.’ He made no attempt to move out of her way. ‘How long do you intend to remain in Bath, my lord?’

‘That depends.’

‘Upon what?’

As soon as the words were uttered she knew she had fallen into his trap. He turned his dark eyes upon her again. She had no doubt that those handsome features and charming smile had undone many a young lady. Flirting with the other young gentlemen of Bath had always seemed an innocent, harmless pastime, but with Lord Markham no remark was ever innocent or harmless. Once again she found breathing difficult, she knew the colour was fluctuating in her cheeks. She wanted to move closer to that lean, muscular body and it was almost a physical effort to keep her distance.

‘Mr Barnabus!’

The butler’s sonorous announcement could not have been better timed.

She blinked, as if woken from a trance, and with a hurried ‘excuse me!’ she stepped past him and moved swiftly across the room.

‘Mr Barnabus.’ She held out her hands to him. ‘You are very welcome.’ She leaned a little closer, saying quietly, ‘Well? Have you been to Florence House?’

He squeezed her hands.

‘Yes. You may be easy. I have seen Tyler and given him the money. He will begin the new work next week.’

Susannah gave a little sigh of relief, her smile growing.

‘Thank you, I can never tell you how grateful I am to you.’ She tucked her hand into his arm and led him further into the room.

‘I see my cousin is here,’ he remarked. ‘Would it—?’ He stopped, looking about to make sure he could not be overheard. ‘I do not like to keep things from him. May I tell him where