How to Treat a Lady by Karen Hawkins Page B

but—”
    â€œIt knows my name,” Pound murmured. He arched his brows. “Should I be honored?”
    In Devon’s opinion, Chase’s downfall was somehow tied up with this man. “No,” he said to Pound, setting his glass on the table with a snap. “You should not be honored at all.”
    Harry’s face turned bright red, his mouth thinning for an instant. But he quickly regained control and plastered his usual false smile on his face.
    Devon rather thought he preferred naked anger to the tight smile. He flicked a glance at the man. “Well?” he prompted shortly. “What do you want?”
    The smile grew tighter, but remained firmly in place. “I wonder if you could assist me. I have been looking for your brother, Chase. Have you heard from him lately?”
    Devon managed to keep his face expressionless, though it was difficult. The louse wanted something; his kind always did. What was truly unusual was that Chase was normally in the pocket of this man. If Harry Annesley didn’t know where Chase was, who would? A knot of disquiet began to formin Devon’s stomach. “I haven’t seen my brother in almost two weeks. Not since our brother Brandon’s wedding.”
    â€œNo?” Harry’s practiced smile faded and was replaced with an equally fake expression of concern. “I wonder where he could have gotten to?”
    Devon shrugged. “I daresay he has found yet another amorata. He flits from woman to woman like a bee.”
    â€œWith a stinger, no doubt.” Pound shook his head sadly. “That was poorly done, St. John.”
    Devon managed a genuine smile. Pound’s dry wit perfectly suited his own. “I shall try to be more subtle.”
    Harry placed his hands on the table and leaned closer, his cologne drifting over Devon like a fine cloying mist. “I hesitate to say anything because…” He broke off as if too embarrassed to continue.
    Devon’s gaze narrowed. What the hell did the shyster want? More to the point, where the hell was Chase. Devon continued to shuffle the cards, then dealt them into two neat stacks. “Out with it, Annesley.”
    â€œI didn’t wish to say anything, but your brother…” He paused, sending a side glance at Pound. “Mr. St. John, perhaps we should discuss this in private.”
    Pound’s gaze lifted from his hand of cards. “Ah! A secret, is it? Pray do not attempt to dismiss me then. There is little I like more than a secret.”
    Devon hesitated. Pound, for all his dissembling humor, was something of a gossip. But there was nothing for it now. Annesley had said too much already, and any attempt to keep Pound out of it was long gone. “Speak, Annesley.”
    â€œVery well. Mr. St. John, I’m sorry to bring this matter to your notice, but it is unlike your brother tomiss a meeting.” Annesley paused, casting a quick look toward Pound. “ Especially when that meeting was a matter of honor.”
    Devon cursed to himself when he caught the interested gleam behind Pound’s bland gaze. Whatever Annesley had to say, it would be all over town before dawn. Devon forced his attention to his cards. He carefully selected his discard before answering. “I’m sure there must have been some sort of misunderstanding. Perhaps he had the wrong location or time.”
    â€œI hardly think it could be that.” Annesley pursed his lips. “To be blunt, your brother owes me a considerable amount of money.” Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew a note. He placed it on the table. Devon glanced at it, then frowned. The note promised twenty thousand pounds to Harry Annesley and was signed with a sloping flourish that Devon immediately recognized as Chase’s.
    A stirring of unease filtered through Devon. Something wasn’t right. Still, he forced himself to leave the paper on the table though he longed to snatch it up and