she’d responded with such abandon. When he thought about the feel of her soft body pressed against him, his groin tightened again. The devil, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman this badly.
“Are you sickening?” Harry said.
His voice interrupted Bell’s pleasurable musings. “No, I’m thinking.”
Colin smirked. “Looks like he’s in lust. What say you, Harry?”
“Cupid has definitely struck,” Harry said.
“Cupid is about love, not lust,” Bell muttered.
“You’re wrong,” Colin said. “The Romans said a shot from the arrow caused uncontrollable desire.”
Bell blew out a smoke ring. “Uncontrollable? What if there is no ladylove available? What does the poor sot do?”
Harry fisted his hand and made an up-and-down motion. The officious waiter returned. “Sir, did you need something else?”
Colin choked on his brandy. Bell’s shoulders shook with laughter.
“No, thank you,” Harry said to the waiter.
When the waiter left, Bell guffawed.
“Gad, Harry,” Colin said. “Try to control yourself.”
Harry pulled a face. “And you don’t do it? Ha!”
Colin regarded Bell with disgust. “Look what you started.”
“Me?” Bell said. “I’m not the one demonstrating hand relief in the damned club.”
Harry grinned. “I could give lessons.”
“No,” Bell and Colin said simultaneously.
“It was a jest,” Harry said.
Bell blew out another smoke ring and looked at Colin. “Harry is good for something. I just can’t remember what.”
“I am indeed,” Harry said. “By the by, I met up with Pembroke. He danced with Lady Chesfield at Lady Atherton’s ball and said he plans to call on her.”
Bell suspended his glass halfway to his mouth and scowled. “What?”
His friends stared at him.
Colin set his glass down. “Why do you care if he calls on her? You said she was proper. What would you do with a proper woman?”
“I’m not doing anything with her,” he grumbled. But he’d like to do something with her, something hot and sweaty.
“Right,” Colin said, winking at Harry.
“I ought to have known,” Harry said. “Women always fall for brooding men.”
“I don’t brood,” Bell said.
Colin shrugged. “You look like you brood.”
“My girl cousins said ladies find brooding men dangerous and romantic,” Harry said. “Maybe I should practice it.”
“By all means,” Bell said. “We’ll judge how well you display brooding tendencies.”
Harry curled his lip and looked up from beneath his thick brows.
Bell snorted. “I need another drink after that horrid demonstration.” He put out his cheroot and refilled the glasses.
“So have you seen the widow’s wild son again?” Colin asked.
He nodded. “Today I called on Lady Chesfield. I thought she should know her son was out carousing again.”
His friends stared at him as if he’d grown horns.
“He’s getting into trouble. His mother is having difficulty managing him, and his guardian is a prize ass,” Bell said.
Colin eyed Harry. “He’s trying to get in the widow’s good graces.”
“No, he’s trying to get under her skirts,” Harry said.
“Don’t start. I already told you she’s a lady,” Bell said with a warning in his voice.
“You’re leaving out more than a few details,” Colin said.
“Watch out,” Harry said. “Pembroke is bearing down on you, Bell. He looks quite determined.”
“Thanks for the forewarning,” Bell said, and sipped his brandy.
“Bellingham.”
He heard Pembroke’s voice and slowly raised his bored gaze to the short, balding man.
Pembroke took the chair next to him and regarded him sternly. “I understand your carriage was seen at Lady C he sfield’s home yesterday.”
“Your point?” Bell said.
He inhaled as if to say something. Then he exhaled. “She’s a respectable widow.”
“I’m aware of that.” He swirled his brandy. “Is that all?”
“No,” he said with vehemence in his voice. “If you must
“Are you sickening?” Harry said.
His voice interrupted Bell’s pleasurable musings. “No, I’m thinking.”
Colin smirked. “Looks like he’s in lust. What say you, Harry?”
“Cupid has definitely struck,” Harry said.
“Cupid is about love, not lust,” Bell muttered.
“You’re wrong,” Colin said. “The Romans said a shot from the arrow caused uncontrollable desire.”
Bell blew out a smoke ring. “Uncontrollable? What if there is no ladylove available? What does the poor sot do?”
Harry fisted his hand and made an up-and-down motion. The officious waiter returned. “Sir, did you need something else?”
Colin choked on his brandy. Bell’s shoulders shook with laughter.
“No, thank you,” Harry said to the waiter.
When the waiter left, Bell guffawed.
“Gad, Harry,” Colin said. “Try to control yourself.”
Harry pulled a face. “And you don’t do it? Ha!”
Colin regarded Bell with disgust. “Look what you started.”
“Me?” Bell said. “I’m not the one demonstrating hand relief in the damned club.”
Harry grinned. “I could give lessons.”
“No,” Bell and Colin said simultaneously.
“It was a jest,” Harry said.
Bell blew out another smoke ring and looked at Colin. “Harry is good for something. I just can’t remember what.”
“I am indeed,” Harry said. “By the by, I met up with Pembroke. He danced with Lady Chesfield at Lady Atherton’s ball and said he plans to call on her.”
Bell suspended his glass halfway to his mouth and scowled. “What?”
His friends stared at him.
Colin set his glass down. “Why do you care if he calls on her? You said she was proper. What would you do with a proper woman?”
“I’m not doing anything with her,” he grumbled. But he’d like to do something with her, something hot and sweaty.
“Right,” Colin said, winking at Harry.
“I ought to have known,” Harry said. “Women always fall for brooding men.”
“I don’t brood,” Bell said.
Colin shrugged. “You look like you brood.”
“My girl cousins said ladies find brooding men dangerous and romantic,” Harry said. “Maybe I should practice it.”
“By all means,” Bell said. “We’ll judge how well you display brooding tendencies.”
Harry curled his lip and looked up from beneath his thick brows.
Bell snorted. “I need another drink after that horrid demonstration.” He put out his cheroot and refilled the glasses.
“So have you seen the widow’s wild son again?” Colin asked.
He nodded. “Today I called on Lady Chesfield. I thought she should know her son was out carousing again.”
His friends stared at him as if he’d grown horns.
“He’s getting into trouble. His mother is having difficulty managing him, and his guardian is a prize ass,” Bell said.
Colin eyed Harry. “He’s trying to get in the widow’s good graces.”
“No, he’s trying to get under her skirts,” Harry said.
“Don’t start. I already told you she’s a lady,” Bell said with a warning in his voice.
“You’re leaving out more than a few details,” Colin said.
“Watch out,” Harry said. “Pembroke is bearing down on you, Bell. He looks quite determined.”
“Thanks for the forewarning,” Bell said, and sipped his brandy.
“Bellingham.”
He heard Pembroke’s voice and slowly raised his bored gaze to the short, balding man.
Pembroke took the chair next to him and regarded him sternly. “I understand your carriage was seen at Lady C he sfield’s home yesterday.”
“Your point?” Bell said.
He inhaled as if to say something. Then he exhaled. “She’s a respectable widow.”
“I’m aware of that.” He swirled his brandy. “Is that all?”
“No,” he said with vehemence in his voice. “If you must
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