Lady Guinevere and the Rogue with a Brogue - Julie Johnstone Page 0,41

seated by Guinevere. Kilgore took the seat on the other side of her, irritating Asher further, and Lady Constantine took the seat to his left with Lady Lilias sitting opposite Lady Constantine. Asher and Lady Constantine exchanged a conspiratorial look before Asher caught sight of Pierce, whom he had not seen so much as a glimpse of in the last week. His brother sauntered into the dining room as the doors were shutting and made his way to where Asher sat. He took the seat opposite him and beside Lady Lilias with an amused look.

“I cannot say I understand this seating,” Lady Constantine said, making it sound as if she’d accidentally blurted it, but he knew her well enough now to understand that it was her way of slyly voicing her opinion.

“I cannot say I do, either,” Guinevere agreed from Asher’s right. Lady Lilias nodded her agreement from across the table.

Pierce arched his eyebrows while sweeping his gaze from Lady Constantine to Asher to Guinevere. “We are seated to entertain and tease,” he announced before picking up his wine goblet and quaffing the wine. He slammed it down with a thud a moment later, rattling utensils and sloshing wine over the rim and onto the table.

Guinevere’s scent of lilies wafted to Asher, carried on some mystical breeze he swore she could conjure. Her pink tongue darted out, and his attention was riveted on her instead of on his brother, where he knew damn well it should be. Pierce had clearly imbibed too much, and did not appear as if he had any plans to stop. Still, his attention would not stay on Pierce with Guinevere near. He had once thought Guinevere passionate beyond compare, and seeing her now, it was as if glimpsing the face of the woman he had believed her to be. Pity lingered on her face for a moment, then a determined look as she regarded Pierce. God above only knew what Guinevere had decided she needed to do, and her seemingly genuine concern made him question what he thought he knew of her. But he dismissed it as soon as it arose. He was not getting caught in her web again.

“Lord Pierce,” she said, “did you not tell me last time we spoke that you and my brother made a wager that whoever succumbed to the shackles of marriage first would have to pay the other twenty pounds?”

“I did, Lady Guinevere,” Pierce said, sitting up straighter and actually making an attempt to put order to his cravat and hair. Guinevere would have that effect on Pierce. Or any man. She was impossible to resist.

No, damnation, not impossible.

“Lady Guinevere,” Kilgore said, leaning forward as far as Guinevere was until their shoulders were touching.

Asher’s fingers twitched with the desire to shove Kilgore out of his chair and onto his arse. Pierce’s eyes narrowed on Kilgore, as well, which very likely marked the one and only time they had been in total agreement about something: that Kilgore was a louse. And much to Asher’s satisfaction, Lady Lilias was scowling at Kilgore. At least Guinevere seemed to have an intelligent friend in Lady Lilias.

Guinevere turned her head toward Kilgore, which put their faces a hairsbreadth apart. That was too close for Asher’s liking for a woman he might soon be pursuing to wed. He reached subtly down, found the edge of Guinevere’s chair, and slid her away from Kilgore and toward him. Her head whipped in his direction for one moment, her eyes wide with shock, but then Kilgore spoke again, bringing her attention back to the scoundrel.

“I find I don’t like to hear you have had private conversations with any man but myself. I thought we had an arrangement?”

“Wh-what?” Guinevere stuttered.

Kilgore winked at her. The man actually winked. Asher’s hands curled into fists under the table. Perhaps he had his answer about Guinevere already.

“Do you want me to make it known formally here and now?” Kilgore asked, surprise in his voice.

Make it known? Formally? Damn and double damn.

The jealousy was no longer stirring. It had gripped his chest in an ironlike hold.

“I say,” Pierce announced, shooting daggers at Kilgore, “you interrupted the lady with your nonsense.”

That was the most logical thing Asher had ever heard Pierce say, and he’d said it in a voice that sounded surprisingly clearheaded.

“You did rudely interrupt,” Lady Lilias added, her tone chiding.

“Lady Guinevere,” Pierce continued, shaking off his foxed state to gather himself together like a prize-winning pugilist. It was astonishing to witness. Asher