Suzanne Enoch - A Beginners Guide to Rakes

Contents

Chapter One

Very few things in the world could make Oliver Warren, the Marquis of Haybury, flinch. He could count these things on one hand, in fact. The yowling of small children. The squeak of rusted metal. And the mention of that name.

Stilling, he looked up, the stack of coins between his fingers forgotten. What did you say?

To his left James Appleton nodded. I thought the Benchleys would have found a way to keep the manor, it being in the family for so long. But its the widow opening up old Adam House. Just arrived last night, from what I heard. At any rate, its the first time in better than three years that anyones lived there.

Oliver placed his wager on the three of spades, keeping his eyes on the game as the dealer turned over a four, a nine, and the queen of hearts. Hm, he said, deciding vague interest would be the expected response to this particular gossip. Lady Cameron. Shes been on the Continent, hasnt she? Whats her name? Marianne?

Diane, Appleton corrected, finally noticing that hed lost the wager hed just placed on the four of spades. Blast it all. I heard Vienna or Amsterdam or some such. I suppose with Frederick dead for more than two years now, she decided she missed London.

That seems likely. A flash of long, raven black hair and startling green eyes crossed Olivers mind before he shoved the image away again. Damn, damn, damn . He sent a glance at the man seated to his left. London must be dull as dirt indeed, Appleton, he drawled, if the most intriguing bit of gossip you can find is that a widow is settling back into her late husbands town house.

Across the table Lord Beaumont laughed. Youve hit on the Seasons failing, Haybury. No good gossip. I dont think weve had a scandal since January, and that one doesnt even count because no one was in Town to enjoy it. The earl lifted his glass. Heres hoping for some bloody entertainment soon.

Oliver drank to that. Anything that kept him from having to hear damned Diane Benchleys name on everyones lips for the next six weeks had his vote. Are you finished with wagering for the evening, Appleton? he pursued. We could fetch you an embroidery hoop, if you prefer to continue your tongue wagging.

Appletons cheeks and throat flushed a ruddy red. I merely thought it interesting, he protested. The former Earl of Cameron and his wife flee London just ahead of the dunners, and now she comes back alone in a half dozen of the grandest black coaches anyone could letand in the middle of the night.

Perhaps she found herself a Prussian duke, the fourth of their party, Jonathan Sutcliffe, Lord Manderlin, finally put in. She always was a pretty thing, as I recall. He patted Olivers shoulder. You werent in London back then, were you? In fact, didnt you spend some time in Vienna?

Among other places. A sideways glance accompanied by a lifted brow convinced Manderlin to release his shoulder. I returned in a grand black coach as well, Appleton. My own. Did you gossip about me?

Finally, Appleton grinned again. Did and still do. Almost constantly.

Good. I work very diligently to keep all the wags occupied.

Thats true! Lord Beaumont motioned, and one of the clubs liveried footmen approached to refill his glass. Youre the one to blame for the quietude, then. Give us a damned scandal, Haybury.

Oliver inclined his head. I shall do my best. Or worst, rather.

Diane Benchley, Lady Cameron, in London. And he supposed theyd run across each other at some soiree or other now. After all, Mayfair was a small place. Smaller even than Vienna. He downed the remainder of his glass of whiskey and poured himself another.

Mention of her name might have caught him unawares tonight, but ifwhenhe saw her face-to-face, he wouldnt be the one flinching. Not a muscle. Not any muscle. And shed best keep her pretty mouth shut as well, or he would be forced to do something unpleasant.

Are you wagering, Haybury? Manderlin asked. Or are you taking up embroidery?

Gathering his less than pleasant thoughts back in for later, private contemplation, Oliver glanced at the rack of spent cards and put two pounds on the knave. In his experience, the knave always won.

* * *

Diane, you have a caller.

Diane Benchley, Lady Cameron, looked up from the spread of papers on what had been her late husbands desk. Im not seeing anyone, she muttered, and returned to sifting through the figures and decimals and subtractions every sheet seemed to feature. No exceptions.

I know that, my dear, her companion returned, not moving from her position in the office doorway. Its Lord Cameron.

For a heartbeat, ice ran up Dianes spine. In that swift moment, every hand shed shaken, every breath of wind on the passage from the Continent, every thunderclap to her chest since shed left Vienna, caught in her throat. It had all been for nothing, if

Swearing beneath her breath, she shook herself. Frederick Benchley had died. Two years ago. Shed been by his bedside when hed drawn his last breath. Shed stood at his graveside when the pair of workmen had shoveled dirt into the hole where theyd placed his cheap pine coffin. For Gods sake, Jenny, dont do that, she stated aloud, setting her pencil aside and rubbing at her temple with still-shaking fingers.

Alarm crossed her companions face, and Genevieve Martine hurried deeper into the room. Oh, good heavens. You know I meant the new earl, of course. I never thought

Dont trouble yourself, Jenny. You did startle me nearly out of my skin, however. Where is Anthony Benchley?

In the morning room. He asked for you, and then for tea.

Diane pushed away from the desk and stood. Well. At least we may assume that word of my arrival in London has traveled swiftly. Thats something, I suppose.

Yes, we may count one fortunate thing since our return here, then. Jenny blew out her breath. And two dozen unfortunate things. To which column do I add Lord Cameron?

The unfortunate one. Come with me, if you would. I want to be rid of him as swiftly as possible.

What do you think he wants? Genevieve asked in the light French accent that seemed to fade or intensify according to her mood.

Money, of course. Thats what all the men of the Benchley family want. And as far as Ive been able to determine, none of them are capable of keeping their hands on any of it they touch. She frowned. And Adam House, most likely. He cant have that, either.

Perhaps he only wishes to reminisce, Jenny suggested dubiously. You were married to his brother, after all.

There is very little about my life as part of that family that I care to remember, Diane retorted, lowering her voice as they reached the foot of the stairs. Shed known that eventually she would have to speak with a Benchley, but for heavens sake, shed been in London for less than two days.

In that time Jenny might have compiled a list of two dozen unfortunate things, but it had merely taken one disaster to set Dianes entire plan on its ear. In fact, the only happenstance she could imagine that would make things worse would be if it were Oliver Warren, the Marquis of Haybury, waiting for her in her morning room. Anthony Benchley was an annoyance. Nothing more.

That thought actually steadied her as she stepped into the room. Her former brother-in-law stood looking out the front window. His dark hair and ruddy complexion and even the way he tapped his fingers against his thigh reminded her forcibly of his older brother, and she didnt like that. Not at all. Lord Cameron, she said aloud.