Still laughing, he executed a smart bow and offered his elbow. “That, my dear, is what I find so intriguing. The warring of the outspoken world traveler with the proper British miss. I can hardly wait to see who will emerge the victor.”
Sophie couldn’t help but smile a little at his insight.
“I believe this battle goes to the British miss,” she said taking his arm.
“She does seem a formidable little general,” he admitted with exaggerated respect. “But my money is on the world traveler.”
“Wishful thinking.”
“Not if I send in reinforcements.”
“In the form of…?”
He turned and winked at her. “Temptation.”
Lord Loudor lounged comfortably, if rather inelegantly, in a large dining chair in front of an enormous plate of food at his favorite club. Which, incidentally, was not White’s—an establishment where he sometimes enjoyed himself, but often only patronized because it was what a gentleman of his standing was expected to do.
He was at Barney’s, where the food, if not better, was a good deal cheaper. Where he could shrug off his waistcoat and loosen his cravat. And where he was always the highest-ranking member of nobility in attendance. Indeed, he was, as a general rule, the only member of nobility to grace the club with his presence. A circumstance that garnered a great deal of bowing and scraping by the employees, which was enough to set any man at ease.
He was not the only man, however, to receive such superior treatment this morning, or afternoon really since it was already well past one. Loudor made it a point never to rise before noon, and for his own convenience, he referred to the two hours following that momentous occasion as “the morning,” whether it be one in the afternoon or ten at night.
And so it was “this morning” when Loudor welcomed Lord Heransly to dine with him. Loudor had known the man since Oxford. He had never particularly liked him, but then Loudor didn’t particularly like anyone of his acquaintance, and the man was sometimes useful, so Loudor considered him a friend despite his personal feelings of distaste.
“Gad, man, what is this place?” Heransly pulled out a chair and sat, all the while eyeing their surroundings with disgust.
“Gentlemen’s club,” Loudor replied, or gurgled really, as his mouth was full.
“It’s a club, I’ll grant. I can see the game tables. But there’s a definite lack of gentlemen.”
“We’re here,” Loudor offered.
“Yes, and I’d like to know why exactly. Why wouldn’t you meet me at White’s?”
“Bloody sick of it,” Loudor grunted. “All those earls and dukes, each hell-bent on being more dignified than the next.” Loudor pulled a face at the thought.
“I was under the impression you aspired to those very ranks.”
“Just the trappings, Heransly, just the trappings.”
“Which brings me to the reason I wanted to meet with you,” Heransly said. “I’ve heard you’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Rockeforte these last few days, and he’s been enjoying the company of your lovely young cousin.”
“What of it?”
“You know very well what,” Heransly snapped. “She can’t marry, Loudor.”
“You think Rockeforte’s likely to marry the chit?”
Heransly said nothing, so Loudor set down his fork and continued. “Said it yourself, my cousin’s a lovely girl, indeed. She’s also the daughter of a viscount and a bit of an original. Can’t keep the young bucks away from bait like that. Now Rockeforte, on the other hand…” Loudor let his sentence trail off dramatically.
Heransly almost bounded out of his chair. “You’ve enlisted Rockeforte? Are you mad! My father will—”
“Don’t be an ass. And keep your voice down. I don’t think anyone here gives a damn what you say, but the noise grates on my nerves. I couldn’t recruit Rockeforte if I tried. He’s a bit more fun than most of his ilk, I’ll grant, but he’s still too honorable for human tolerance. I don’t care how many women he’s managed to bed. I’ve merely made myself agreeable to his pursuit of Sophie, after he mentioned he had no intentions of marriage.”
“That would be a clever plan, if you hadn’t just expounded on how honorable the man is.”
Loudor waved the argument away. “I said he was honorable, not a eunuch. He wants the chit. Made it clear as day.”
“I know a little about Rockeforte. I don’t think he’s the type to bed an innocent.”
“Maybe he just wants to know he could.” Loudor shrugged and heaped a pile of food onto his fork. “Who cares? His very presence keeps the real threats at bay. He doesn’t like to share. And he certainly isn’t going to marry her. Made that clear too.”
“He won’t take kindly to having been manipulated,” Heransly pointed out uneasily.
“He won’t ever know.”
“He’s not an idiot.”
“In my experience, all men are idiots when it comes to lust.”
Heransly watched in disgust as Loudor crammed food into his mouth. “As I’m certain that experience is limited to you, I won’t argue the point.”