Chapter 80

Boodle's was across the park, so it would take no time to reach it. Only reaching it might take longer, he realized the second he strode down the stairs into the street, when he also saw who had drawn up at the park gates opposite, in her curricle, so she could drive the damn thing around the park. Damn her. To hell. May she tip out of it. His only problem was that beside her elegantly clad figure, Lady Kertouche sat as watchfully as an auburn-haired viper guarding the treasury. Baxby's interfering bag of a mother, Violetta. It would mean her tipping out too. It was doubtful if the ground would stand the strain. Every spare inch of her wrists and neck was bedecked in jewels. Now that that lot, that Starkadder Sisterhood lot had been scattered to the four winds, she obviously felt it was safe to wear them again. He turned his head. "Let's move on. We can just as easily take the long way around. Avoid the muddy ground. It will give us longer to talk tactics. That move of yours, you know the one-"
"Milord Winterborne. Kendall."
Violetta's tone was insistent, although he could pretend he never heard her, just continue talking as if the cart clattering by drowned the sound in dusty waves.
He could pretend he never saw her either. That might take more doing. Violetta, like her son, was not one to be ignored. What she was, was the kind to drive that curricle all the way to Boodle's, to drive it onto the very chessboard if necessary.
He had learned, long ago, the necessity of donning the bland, public face. While he admitted that learning something and doing them were two entirely different things, he donned that face now.
He even crossed the street, taking care to avoid the splatter from the carriage wheel that rumbled by him in the emptying road. He bowed his head slightly.
"My lady."
"Kendall."
The thing was, he had no real quarrel with Violetta, which was why he clasped the velvet-gloved hand she extended.
"You do, of course, know Lady Langley?"
Every inch. It made that stare Babs shot from beneath her downcast eyelashes an entertainment. Violetta was bound to know they had been seeing one another. It was the sole reason he curved his lips.
"I have had the pleasure."
Along with half of London. But all of London knew how heartless he was. The reputation had been hard won when beneath it, Marietta's indiscretions had broken him.
So to think of these moments with Babs, of her soft, creamy skin, of her languorous sighs, of her lips on his body, licking, kissing him into arousa ... that would be his undoing, even when she was dressed in a coat of the wrong color, a sharp contrast to Violetta's midnight blue. Cream? Her?
Violetta squeezed his fingertips. "I'm holding a dance tomorrow night, Kendall.A ball-nothing too grand, you understand-to mark the beginning of the lady's competition. I don't know if you got my invitation?"
In all probability. In all probability, he'd burned it too.
Violetta's smile deepened. "I should so love for you to be there."
He laughed unwillingly. "Would you? And would you love to tell me with whom, after-"
"Oh Kendall, don't be ridiculous. You don't need me to tell you of the flutter your presence always causes. You know-among the ladies."
Among all these stupid, simpering virgins who thought he was devilish, untameable, rakish because of his reputation, the kind of devil the damned fools believed they could tame, whose stupidity he could have taken advantage of were he that sort of man.
"Why, that you come alone without any partner is probably best, the sensation you cause." Lady Kertouche laughed.
For a second, he stood, letting the sharp tang of frost chill his teeth. God knew why he caused anything when he was ruder than a cow's arse.
"I am glad that is what you think of me, Lady Kertouche."
"Oh, we all think that of you, Kendall." Violetta's chuckle was warm and spicy as mulled wine. "With all the ladies up in town for the week, we must make a show. I don't have to stress that to you when I know you realize the importance of it all. It's not as if they have your dashing exploits on the chess board to follow this time, now is it?"
Babs edged her polished gaze sideways before feasting it with studied interest upon the edge of the door. Did she sleep with Baxby? Probably not. She would play that one with the ruthlessness of a miser keeping every gleaming bauble under lock and key. This was about Baxby being prepared to offer what Kendall never would, not if a carriage and four horses were ridden over his body. Matrimony.
He gathered his scattered thoughts, his gaze too, from the bleak eternity it had wandered into.
"No, we don't. This time I was quite definitely outmatched."
"You, Kendall? Good gracious."
He could see how hard it was for Violetta to believe him. He was rather good, but he'd rather break his teeth on these words than give Babs any satisfaction here. He squinted across the street. "Yes. By the chea-lad there. An excellent player. New from the counties. Completely unheard of. One I fully tip to win. That's why I didn't shoot him when I had the chance. Because I recognized true genius when I saw it."
"True genius?" Babs's voice oozed over him like honeyed silk. "Is that what it takes to beat you, my lord?"
A cheating whore-first his wife, now her-was all it took to beat him, but to say so would be to show things he hoarded in his breast. "Yes. Which is why I'm glad to have met that young man. After all, one wouldn't want the tournament won by any old Tom or Dick. Or Harry neither. It is also why I suppose that on this occasion, with regard to your kind invitation, Violetta, I..."
And yet, a gauntlet should be grabbed for all it was worth, surely?
His gaze scissored through the dusty carriages, the horses being whipped, and skirted the figure standing on the opposite side of the street. Even at this distance, he could see the full, curved lips, feel the impolitely assessing stare hovering over the top of the ludicrous spectacle rims.
She would beat Chiltren. What was it his father had always said about having more than one iron in the fire though? Why not at least grant himself the pleasure of attending the ball with a woman on his arm? Look no further than the chit across the street either?
Her looks, while not quite to his taste, weren't that bad were they? A little cart horse-ish when she disguised herself as a man because of her height, but not so entirely displeasing when she dressed as a woman. Her betrothed could spare her for one evening, surely? As for agreeing ...She would, wouldn't she? Because if she didn't, there were cards he could, and would, lay on the table. Babs wouldn't want him at any ball, making things difficult for her, whether she really intended going through with the marriage to Baxby or not. This was Kendall's move.
He fastened his gaze back on Violetta. "What I was going to say, is that I would be delighted to attend, but I cannot come alone, you understand? I have someone in mind as a partner. I hope that won't disappoint anyone too sorely?"