she hasn’t, her attentions are free for any man to claim.”
“That’s enough,” Clarice hissed. She laid a hand on both their sleeves. “This is neither the time nor the place for such a conversation.”
“No, but it is a certainty. You and I share history.” A smug grin slithered over the Frenchman’s face. He continued as if Clarice had never spoken. “We also share a love of our native France.” He pinned Felix with a hard glance. “It’s highly unlikely she’d choose an improper, passionless Englishman over me.”
Hot ire rose in Felix’s chest at the sight of Clarice touching the other man. Had she not felt the same connection he had at the pastry shop? “I’ll wager I can best you in any venue you choose.” Anger rasped his voice. He dropped it to a whisper. The last thing he needed was the attention of the room. “Perhaps you’d enjoy a challenge by a game of darts?”
“I grew up playing darts with my siblings.” Guy lifted a thin eyebrow. “If you’d like to be witness to my mastery, so be it.”
“Not in the way I learned. If that is past your skill set, perhaps a game of blind man’s bluff?” The pettiness of his request forced a chuckle. He would not let this man get the best of him.
“That is a child’s game, my lord. Do not insult my intelligence or yours.” Guy crossed his arms over his chest.
Felix’s jaw worked. “Perhaps cards would be your challenge of choice?”
Guy’s laugh grated along Felix’s skin. “Ah, the English bravado. How charming, but I am quite skilled in all the games you’ve suggested, and if I were you, I’d stop before you embarrass yourself.”
“My skill with cards is impressive. Ask any gentleman who frequents Whites. I hold notes for some of the town’s loftiest men.”
Interest flickered in Guy’s eyes. He nodded. “Very well. If you’d care to adjourn to one of the card rooms? I’d love to hand you a disappointment, and do be certain you wager a large sum on yourself. I’d like to collect as well as best you.”
“Damnation, but you are a smart prick, aren’t you?” The gall of the man.
“ Lord Swandon, please. Consider the scandal.” Clarice tugged on his arm, but he disengaged her in short order. “ Homme aggravante .”
Her muttered words penetrated the angry haze around his brain. Did she just call me an aggravating man? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. All he wanted in this moment was to put Guy in his place and show Clarice she deserved better than this weasel of a man.
“ Forget the cards, Fournier. There will be no scandal in a friendly feat of strength between acquaintances.” Common sense fled as Felix shrugged out of the tight confines of his tailcoat then threw it to the floor. It simply wasn’t done to appear in shirtsleeves in public, but there was no help for it. “If you’d care to join me outside on the lawn, Guy, I wish to challenge you to a rousing bout of fisticuffs. In fact, let’s call the guests over and let them pick sides.” In this, he had no doubts he could best the other man. “My brother and I often train when we’re together. I’m quite good.”
“Very well, Lord Swandon. The lawn is an acceptable place for your disappointment.” The Frenchman’s chuckle grated on Felix’s nerves.
“You’ll be the one who is disappointed.” If truth be told, he couldn’t wait to land the man a facer or perhaps bloody his nose. He wasn’t fit to touch Clarice’s shoes let alone try to win her hand. No sooner had he manipulated the buttons on his waistcoat than Clarice shoved herself between the two of them.
“That is quite enough.” She planted her palms against Guy’s chest and pushed. “How dare you challenge Lord Swandon. Have you no care for your reputation or your position? And you.” She turned to face Felix. “You should know better. Your position in Society makes you a leader, and you’re doing a poor job of it.”
“Do not lecture me, Clarice. You know nothing of
“That’s enough,” Clarice hissed. She laid a hand on both their sleeves. “This is neither the time nor the place for such a conversation.”
“No, but it is a certainty. You and I share history.” A smug grin slithered over the Frenchman’s face. He continued as if Clarice had never spoken. “We also share a love of our native France.” He pinned Felix with a hard glance. “It’s highly unlikely she’d choose an improper, passionless Englishman over me.”
Hot ire rose in Felix’s chest at the sight of Clarice touching the other man. Had she not felt the same connection he had at the pastry shop? “I’ll wager I can best you in any venue you choose.” Anger rasped his voice. He dropped it to a whisper. The last thing he needed was the attention of the room. “Perhaps you’d enjoy a challenge by a game of darts?”
“I grew up playing darts with my siblings.” Guy lifted a thin eyebrow. “If you’d like to be witness to my mastery, so be it.”
“Not in the way I learned. If that is past your skill set, perhaps a game of blind man’s bluff?” The pettiness of his request forced a chuckle. He would not let this man get the best of him.
“That is a child’s game, my lord. Do not insult my intelligence or yours.” Guy crossed his arms over his chest.
Felix’s jaw worked. “Perhaps cards would be your challenge of choice?”
Guy’s laugh grated along Felix’s skin. “Ah, the English bravado. How charming, but I am quite skilled in all the games you’ve suggested, and if I were you, I’d stop before you embarrass yourself.”
“My skill with cards is impressive. Ask any gentleman who frequents Whites. I hold notes for some of the town’s loftiest men.”
Interest flickered in Guy’s eyes. He nodded. “Very well. If you’d care to adjourn to one of the card rooms? I’d love to hand you a disappointment, and do be certain you wager a large sum on yourself. I’d like to collect as well as best you.”
“Damnation, but you are a smart prick, aren’t you?” The gall of the man.
“ Lord Swandon, please. Consider the scandal.” Clarice tugged on his arm, but he disengaged her in short order. “ Homme aggravante .”
Her muttered words penetrated the angry haze around his brain. Did she just call me an aggravating man? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. All he wanted in this moment was to put Guy in his place and show Clarice she deserved better than this weasel of a man.
“ Forget the cards, Fournier. There will be no scandal in a friendly feat of strength between acquaintances.” Common sense fled as Felix shrugged out of the tight confines of his tailcoat then threw it to the floor. It simply wasn’t done to appear in shirtsleeves in public, but there was no help for it. “If you’d care to join me outside on the lawn, Guy, I wish to challenge you to a rousing bout of fisticuffs. In fact, let’s call the guests over and let them pick sides.” In this, he had no doubts he could best the other man. “My brother and I often train when we’re together. I’m quite good.”
“Very well, Lord Swandon. The lawn is an acceptable place for your disappointment.” The Frenchman’s chuckle grated on Felix’s nerves.
“You’ll be the one who is disappointed.” If truth be told, he couldn’t wait to land the man a facer or perhaps bloody his nose. He wasn’t fit to touch Clarice’s shoes let alone try to win her hand. No sooner had he manipulated the buttons on his waistcoat than Clarice shoved herself between the two of them.
“That is quite enough.” She planted her palms against Guy’s chest and pushed. “How dare you challenge Lord Swandon. Have you no care for your reputation or your position? And you.” She turned to face Felix. “You should know better. Your position in Society makes you a leader, and you’re doing a poor job of it.”
“Do not lecture me, Clarice. You know nothing of
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