going to do.” She sailed past him, down the steps, and back to her carriage. “The Rose Room, please, John.”
Like most women of her station, she had always wondered what the inside of the most exclusive and popular gaming hell was like. The business kept a low profile since gambling was illegal, but because most of the people who made the laws and could enforce the law visited on a regular basis, the Rose brothers were seldom bothered by raids.
Once they rolled up to the front door, she decided going around back might be a better idea. Hunt had told her more than once that the only women who patronized the club were mistresses and the demimonde. She still planned to go inside to see him, but she didn’t want to flaunt herself by using the front door. After all, she was here to make up with her husband, not antagonize him.
The man at the back door admitted her when she identified herself. He gave her directions on how to reach the business offices which were where she planned to start her search for Hunt.
Driscoll sat at his desk, hovering over a book of numbers. There was no sign of either Dante or Hunt.
“Is Hunt here, Driscoll?”
The man jumped, apparently so enamored of his numbers that he hadn’t heard her enter. “Oh, Diana, you startled me.” He frowned. “What are you doing here? Women aren’t allowed. At least not decent women.”
“I’m looking for Hunt. His butler thought he was here.”
“He was a bit ago.” He looked around as if he expected his brother to pop up from behind one of the desks. “I guess he went downstairs.”
She tapped her foot. “I need to speak with him. Can you go downstairs and fetch him?”
Just then Dante entered the office. “What are you doing here, Diana?”
She sighed. “I came to see Hunt. Has he left?”
“Just a few minutes ago. I believe he was headed home.”
An ache was beginning at the back of her head. As long as she’d come this far, she might as well finish her mission. “Fine. I will go to his house, thank you, Dante.”
“I can escort you to your carriage.”
She waved him off. “That’s not necessary. I can find my way.”
Once she reached the bottom step, she stopped and decided to peek into the gaming room. There was no point in coming this far and not assuaging her curiosity.
She approached the wooden door with a glass panel in the top and glanced through.
The room was amazing. Tables held men playing various card games. A bar lined one wall with several men leaning against it, drinking and observing the crowd. There were a few women, and obviously from their mode of dress and painted faces, not the respectable women of London. She smiled at being given the chance to see this.
On the other wall there was some sort of spinning wheel that men were shouting over, and a large table was surrounded by clients throwing dice and groaning.
She glanced to the east side of the building where three men sat at a table with another man standing in front of them dealing cards. Her eyes drifted up, she blinked a few times, then sucked in a deep breath.
It was not possible, and she was quite certain her eyes deceived her. Licking her dry lips, she pushed the door open and walked into the room.
One of the men who was obviously an employee came up to her. “I am sorry, my lady, you are not permitted on the gaming floor.”
She pushed him aside and continued into the room. The blood pounded so hard in her head sounds grew dim and black dots danced in her eyes. She got as far as the wall and looked up.
With a soft sigh, Diana’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she slid towards the floor.
22
Hunt ran his fingers through his hair for probably the hundredth time as he continued to pace in his library. A half empty brandy bottle sat on his desk, but he’d had enough to calm him down, but not to forget.
The damn portrait was hanging in The Rose Room!
Every time that thought entered his brain, he felt the need to punch the wall, or perhaps his brother. He again went over his conversation with Dante after discovering the painting.
He’d flown up the stairs, slammed into the office, and grabbed Dante by his cravat, lifting him off the chair. “Why the devil is that painting hanging on the