A Dash of Scandal(64)

He had dressed for the evening as was usual in one of his dinner coats and brocade waistcoat. He’d even taken time to be a bit fancy with the tying of his neckcloth. He’d fully intended to show up at the three parties he’d selected to attend for the evening and had gone so far as to have his driver stop the coach at the first house. But he didn’t get out. Instead, he’d told his driver to bring him to this club.

Chandler was in a quandary. For the first time in his life he was smitten by a young lady. Truly smitten, and it was a difficult thing to come to terms with—for more than one reason.

He’d actually expected it to happen one day. He wanted it to happen. He was ready for it to happen, but he never dreamed he’d be charmed by a writer of tittle-tattle. One who spied on his friends.

If it wasn’t so outrageous, it would be laughable. He who had always hated the faceless people who wrote the scandal sheets now found himself captivated by one who helped gather the information and write what was written in them.

His infatuation with her was madness.

Perhaps it served him right after all the hearts he’d broken over the years, he quarreled with himself. He supposed he had left many a young lady thinking he would make an offer for her hand only to never call on her again. But still it stunned him that he’d been thunderstruck by a poor, young lady who made her living selling gossip to the highest bidder. It was absurd, downright absurd.

He wasn’t fooling himself about Millicent for a moment, but hopefully he was fooling her. He hadn’t agreed not to expose her to Society because he thought she could help him find the Mad Ton Thief. That was balderdash, merely a ruse to satisfy her. He agreed because it gave him a reason to continue seeing her. And that in itself was ludicrous, too.

What could be the possible gain for him in continuing to pursue her? She wasn’t a suitable wife for him. At the very least he needed to marry the daughter of a baron or a viscount, though an offspring of an earl or duke would be better. He only knew he had not had his fill of Millicent.

Not nearly enough.

“What’s this? You’re drinking without me?”

Chandler took in a deep breath and looked up from the glass of claret he was staring at to the face of John Wickenham-Thickenham-Fines. Damnation. He’d come to this club, one he seldom frequented, because he’d wanted to be alone. How in the devil had Fines found him?

“Oh, is that what I’m doing here? Clever of you to figure it out.”

Fines shrugged his shoulders indolently. “That’s a rather rude greeting for your best friend. How deep are you into your cups, Dunraven?”

“Deep enough that I’m not going to be coming out of them tonight,” he grumbled.

“In that case, I guess it’s good I found you. Any man who has a friend shouldn’t drink alone.”

“That means you’re joining me?”

“Might as well.” Fines sat down in a comfortable wing chair opposite Chandler. “I’ve nothing else to do on this dreary night. It’s raining hard enough to drown the fires of hell.” Fines brushed water droplets from the sleeve of his evening coat.

“Why didn’t you send word you wouldn’t be attending any of the parties tonight and where you would be? I had a devil of a time finding you.”

I wanted to be alone.

“Just because I wasn’t in the mood for dancing and playing the gentleman tonight, I didn’t want to spoil anyone else’s evening.”

“You are in a temper. Since when do friends spoil each other’s evening?”

Recently, Chandler thought, but said nothing.

“We used to be part of a threesome and we rarely see each other anymore. I would have been here earlier, but this is the last blasted place I thought to look for you. You seldom come here. Is anything wrong?” Fines asked.

“No.”

“Then why are you frowning?”

“Maybe for the same reason you are?”

“I’m frowning because I spent the better part of two hours looking for you.”

Chandler managed a light chuckle. “That should have been a clue that there are times a man doesn’t want to be found.”

“I could believe that if you were with a lady but not since you are here at the club.”

“It’s just that I’ve been to parties and balls every night for the past few weeks. I needed a change from smiling, bowing, and dancing.”

“I guess that means you aren’t as interested in that Miss Blair as Andrew led me to believe, for surely you would have wanted to see her tonight.”