her father’s love of horses, and Lady Iversley’s interest in poetry. That last one she skirted quickly, since she could count on one hand the number of poems she knew.
Occasionally she cast furtive glances down the table to where Lord Draker sat just on the other side of their hostess from Simon, the highest-ranking male guest. Would Lord Draker be rude to her brother? Foist yet more breaches of etiquette on the company? Could he at least dine properly?
Apparently he could. He used a fork rather than eating off his knife like other country folk, he didn’t hog the best dishes, and despite what she’d feared from the whisky she’d smelled on his breath, he did not drink overmuch. Only some wine, and that at a moderate rate.
The only thing that bothered her was his apparent enjoyment in talking to Lady Iversley, whom he addressed most familiarly by her Christian name. Regina didn’t want that to annoy her. But it did.
Had he ever brought “Katherine” down to his famous dungeon? Probably not. Somehow Regina could not envision the poetry-loving Lady Iversley in the throes of wild passion in the viscount’s dungeon. Especially when she had a handsome new husband who so clearly doted on her.
Lord Iversley had fallen silent, so she ventured an impertinent comment. “Your wife and Lord Draker are good friends, are they not?”
“Draker has been a good friend to us both in the past year.” He added, with a trace of irony, “He’s like part of our family.”
“Is that why the two of you agreed to bring Louisa out?”
“Yes, but she’s such a sweet girl, we were glad to do it.”
“I confess I didn’t realize his lordship had any friends at all, since he goes into society so little, and when he does, he’s so…so…”
“Rude and badly dressed?”
“I would have said ‘unpolished,’ but you’ve hit it exactly. He is very lucky to have found a friend like you who will overlook his behavior.”
He toyed with his fork. “As I did earlier, you mean? Did my friend…er…do anything in my study for which I should take him to task?”
Her smile froze. “No, of course not. I am perfectly capable of handling men who…do not know how to behave.”
His lordship chuckled. “I could tell. Although I fear it will take more than one slap to teach Draker how to behave. He has a tendency to be thickheaded.”
“Really?” she said dryly. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“But he’s had a rough go of it through the years, so I hope you’ll be patient with him. Or do I presume too much from your coming here with him?”
She blushed. “Yes…no…It’s hard to explain.”
He eyed her closely. “My wife and I have been hoping that something—or someone—would drag him out of the hole he’s dug for himself at Castlemaine. Now that someone has, I would hate to see him disappear back into his hole before he’s had a chance to acclimate himself to the world.”
“So would I.” Lord Draker might be annoying and arrogant and determined to hate everyone and everything, but he did not belong hidden at Castlemaine, no matter what he said.
Earlier, she’d glimpsed the softer side of his lordship—Marcus, who could be tender and even vulnerable. Who experienced life only through his books because no one would dare his foul temper long enough to drag him into the light.
Did she dare? Could she even do it?
She set her shoulders. Of course she could. She had a wager riding on it, after all, and she meant to win, if only to see his lordship better his life. She would live up to her nickname and show him no mercy. She would haul the cantankerous Dragon Viscount into decent society kicking and screaming, no matter how rude he got or how many insults he lobbed at her.
Fortunately, he did nothing at dinner to test her new resolve. The rest of the evening passed quickly, and to her vast relief, the party broke up shortly after dessert, leaving Marcus no chance to create more trouble. Not that it would have made
Occasionally she cast furtive glances down the table to where Lord Draker sat just on the other side of their hostess from Simon, the highest-ranking male guest. Would Lord Draker be rude to her brother? Foist yet more breaches of etiquette on the company? Could he at least dine properly?
Apparently he could. He used a fork rather than eating off his knife like other country folk, he didn’t hog the best dishes, and despite what she’d feared from the whisky she’d smelled on his breath, he did not drink overmuch. Only some wine, and that at a moderate rate.
The only thing that bothered her was his apparent enjoyment in talking to Lady Iversley, whom he addressed most familiarly by her Christian name. Regina didn’t want that to annoy her. But it did.
Had he ever brought “Katherine” down to his famous dungeon? Probably not. Somehow Regina could not envision the poetry-loving Lady Iversley in the throes of wild passion in the viscount’s dungeon. Especially when she had a handsome new husband who so clearly doted on her.
Lord Iversley had fallen silent, so she ventured an impertinent comment. “Your wife and Lord Draker are good friends, are they not?”
“Draker has been a good friend to us both in the past year.” He added, with a trace of irony, “He’s like part of our family.”
“Is that why the two of you agreed to bring Louisa out?”
“Yes, but she’s such a sweet girl, we were glad to do it.”
“I confess I didn’t realize his lordship had any friends at all, since he goes into society so little, and when he does, he’s so…so…”
“Rude and badly dressed?”
“I would have said ‘unpolished,’ but you’ve hit it exactly. He is very lucky to have found a friend like you who will overlook his behavior.”
He toyed with his fork. “As I did earlier, you mean? Did my friend…er…do anything in my study for which I should take him to task?”
Her smile froze. “No, of course not. I am perfectly capable of handling men who…do not know how to behave.”
His lordship chuckled. “I could tell. Although I fear it will take more than one slap to teach Draker how to behave. He has a tendency to be thickheaded.”
“Really?” she said dryly. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“But he’s had a rough go of it through the years, so I hope you’ll be patient with him. Or do I presume too much from your coming here with him?”
She blushed. “Yes…no…It’s hard to explain.”
He eyed her closely. “My wife and I have been hoping that something—or someone—would drag him out of the hole he’s dug for himself at Castlemaine. Now that someone has, I would hate to see him disappear back into his hole before he’s had a chance to acclimate himself to the world.”
“So would I.” Lord Draker might be annoying and arrogant and determined to hate everyone and everything, but he did not belong hidden at Castlemaine, no matter what he said.
Earlier, she’d glimpsed the softer side of his lordship—Marcus, who could be tender and even vulnerable. Who experienced life only through his books because no one would dare his foul temper long enough to drag him into the light.
Did she dare? Could she even do it?
She set her shoulders. Of course she could. She had a wager riding on it, after all, and she meant to win, if only to see his lordship better his life. She would live up to her nickname and show him no mercy. She would haul the cantankerous Dragon Viscount into decent society kicking and screaming, no matter how rude he got or how many insults he lobbed at her.
Fortunately, he did nothing at dinner to test her new resolve. The rest of the evening passed quickly, and to her vast relief, the party broke up shortly after dessert, leaving Marcus no chance to create more trouble. Not that it would have made
Similar Books
