A Dash of Scandal - By Amelia Grey Page 0,23

of a paid mistress.

Damnation! He’d spent enough time pondering Miss Blair. He had to catch a thief. It was time he watched the doorways, roamed the rooms, and searched the crowds, or he would never find the man he sought.

Chandler stopped and chatted with the Duke of Grembrooke and asked about his daughter Lady Lynette, but his gaze continuously searched the room, looking for a man who didn’t quite fit in with the group. He spoke to Sir Charles Wright when he passed him, nodded and smiled to a group of ladies, and snubbed a gentleman who once tried to call him out over a misunderstanding.

After slowly walking through each room twice, Chandler concluded that all the men looked alike. If one was suspicious looking, then they all were. And to make matters worse, he realized he knew most of the men by name and wouldn’t consider any of them a robber. Still, he told himself, the thief would have already been caught if he looked like a beggar among the ton.

“Dunraven, hold up.”

Chandler swore under his breath and kept walking, never changing his stride. He wasn’t up for another conversation with Andrew. With any luck someone would stop his friend and waylay him before he caught up with Chandler.

But seconds later Andrew fell in step with him.

“Dunraven, I’m glad I found you. I saw you dancing with her. How did it go?”

Chandler ignored Andrew’s last question and turned to greet his friend with a smile and gentle clap on the shoulder. “You found me just in time. I’m on my way to get a drink. Care to join me?”

“Yes, but let’s quit this party and head over to White’s. It’s early enough for a game or two of whist.”

“I can’t, old friend.”

“Why not? She’s gone. I saw her leave.”

His relationship with Miss Blair was off-limits. Chandler turned to him and asked, “Who?”

“Who indeed?” Andrew said impatiently. “Miss Blair, of course. It’s not as if we didn’t spend half an hour talking about her earlier.”

“So you did know her name when we last spoke?”

Andrew gave Chandler a shrugging gesture and a smirk. “Yes of course I did. I wanted to know if you were interested enough to find out about her for yourself. I got my answer when I saw you dancing with her.”

“And I saw you dancing with Miss Pennington. I hope she met your expectations.”

“I’m still thinking about that. She seems terribly young and goosey.”

“Maybe it’s you getting old.”

“What a damning thought that is. I’m finding all the young ladies that way this Season.” He shook his head in disgust. “It’s damnable getting old, isn’t it? Come on, let’s head over to White’s, have a drink and talk about it.”

“I have a dance with Miss Bardwell coming up in a short time.”

“Truly?” Andrew eyed him suspiciously. “You didn’t sound the least interested in her when we talked earlier.”

“I’m not. A situation came up that made it impossible for me to get out of asking her without being rude.” She’d obviously learned how to be forward from her mother, Chandler thought, but only added, “As bad luck would have it, I had to invite Miss Donaldson to dance as well, so I will be here a bit longer than I intended.”

“You must have been cornered by them.”

“That’s a mild way of putting it.”

“The hopefuls are getting braver every year. Remember how timid they all were just ten years ago?”

“Yes. Didn’t you just recently refer to them as the ‘good old days’?”

Andrew laughed. “I must have been well into the bottle.”

“I think we both were.”

“But we’re mending our ways, right?”

“That remains to be seen,” Chandler answered as honestly as he could, considering he was no longer willing to share every thought with his friends.

“So tell me, did Miss Blair meet your expectations when you danced with her?”

Oh, yes, Chandler thought but eluded the direct question by saying, “I find that tonight I’m more interested in catching a thief than a pretty lady’s attention.”

“Hmm, I guess that means she was quite unremarkable.”

No, quite the opposite, Chandler thought and kept walking through the crowd.

If Chandler had only pondered it before, he knew for certain that there came a time in a gentleman’s life when he became his own man and not part of a threesome.

Six

“Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, I will be brief” and report how remarkable it is to see Lord Dunraven, Lord Chatwin, and Lord Dugdale dance with so many young ladies in one evening. And all

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