How to Best a Marquess (Raven Club) Read online

  She was surprised to find him here. It was still morning, and the club was closed. Only a few staff were present to clean and prepare for the evening. The fresh scent of lemon polish was redolent in the air. Even Ian and his man, Brooks, were not in sight.

  “Why are you here so early?” she asked. “I assumed you would have spent a late evening easing your bruises from the boxing match with a lady of the night.”

  An infuriating smirk appeared on his handsome face. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Ellie, but I spent a pleasant evening in my home. Alone.”

  “Shocking.”

  “Not so. I was pondering how best to increase the club’s profitability.”

  Damn. He was taking this seriously. Curiosity rose within her. Just what were his plans? She knew better than to ask outright. She’d have to watch him from a distance and try to discern his tactics. Meanwhile, she had her own work to accomplish. She planned to keep track of every shilling of her profits in her ledgers. She assumed he would do the same with his own. It would not be difficult to determine which of them had out-earned the other by the end of the time period.

  “I shall leave you to your ill-fated plans then.” She made to step by him, but he unfolded his arms, pushed away from the table, and placed a hand on her sleeve.

  At the simple touch, her pulse fluttered alarmingly. Even through her clothing, her skin tingled from the warmth.

  “After your adamant speech yesterday, I would think you’d start straightaway. Where are you headed?” Hugh asked.

  “My affairs are none of your concern.”

  “Not true. We are in competition, remember?”

  “How could I forget?” She resisted the urge to remove his hold with her free hand. Even gloved, she didn’t want to touch him.

  “I must keep an eye on you and your efforts. You can do the same and keep me close, of course.”

  She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. She understood the need to unearth his battle plans regarding the club, but spending time with Hugh was the last thing she desired. Why would he want to keep me close? a warning voice whispered in her head. Did he have a hidden purpose? Was he using the competition to try to seduce her like one of his conquests?

  Heat bloomed inside her at the thought. Her muscles tensed, and her breathing grew rapid. A tingling warmth spread through her body. She hated her reaction to him.

  She pushed the thought of his seduction aside. Taking a step back, she pulled her arm from his grasp. It made no sense. He had been the one to end their romance years ago. “I must protest your efforts. Watching each other would defeat the purpose of competition, wouldn’t it?”

  “Nonsense. We only have one month. Anyone would want to discern their opponent’s objectives. Envision an invisible rope around your waist and tied to mine. That’s how close I intend to keep you.”

  An invisible rope? Once more, the idea of Hugh pursuing her rose in her mind.

  No. She knew his game. He was trying to intimidate her, get her to withdraw from the competition.

  Devil. She didn’t fear him, not one bit. She had much more mettle than when they’d first met.

  She raised her chin and met his gaze. “Fine. But do not feel bad when I best you.”

  “Oh, I don’t intend to lose. I never do.”

  Something in his tone sent a ripple down her spine. Was he talking about the club, or heaven help them, her?”

  He stepped closer, closing the distance she’d purposely put between them. “You can follow me today, or I shall follow you. Your choice, Ellie.”

  That’s not much of a choice!

  She made a quick assessment. He’d learn of the private women’s gaming room soon enough. Workers would have to paint the room, decorations and furnishings would have to be purchased and delivered. Gambling tables ordered and installed. She saw no harm in showing him now. At least, she could reveal the main room.

  The second chamber would remain hidden.

  She left him to walk to one of the roulette tables. Her hand grazed the walnut finish.

  He followed. “You plan to add another roulette table or replace this one with another game of chance?” Hugh asked.

  “No. You see only this room, but there is more.” Ellie turned to press a latch in a paneled wall across from the roulette table. She felt a click, then a section of the panel opened to reveal a door leading into a chamber. He followed her inside.

  “A hidden room,” he said, looking impressed.

  She swept inside, and he was right behind her.

  “The club has many. There are also private rooms for gamblers who desire private high-stakes games. This one was unused,” she said. It was a significant space, wide enough to fit several gaming tables, settees, chairs, and end tables. Only one roulette table currently sat in the center of the room.

  He walked the perimeter of the room, seeming to scan the space and measure it in his mind. “Will you use it for higher-stakes games?”

  “In a sense. But only for women. Ladies will be free to remove their masks if they choose or to keep them on. The servants at the Raven Club are sworn to secrecy.”

  “Ah, you feel the women need their own room.”

  “They will be free to join the gentlemen on the main casino floor or to enter here. I believe once it becomes known, many more ladies will seek membership.”

  “Fascinating. I see I have much more competition than I’d initially believed.”

  “You didn’t take me seriously?”

  He grinned. “Perhaps.”

  She leaned against the roulette table and feigned interest in the green baize. His answer irked her. For some reason, it was important to her that he take her seriously. She knew that didn’t make sense. Not when she could use his prejudice to her advantage. If he thought her an unworthy opponent, then she could fool him into believing she was incompetent and swoop in to win the Raven after her well-laid plans filled the club’s coffers with coin.

  “Will female servants serve the women here?” he asked.

  It was a harmless question, but she seized the opportunity to provoke him. Maybe he’d leave her alone and she could see to her work with the hidden back room.

  She looked away from the roulette table to meet his eyes. “Of course not. I will personally select the most virile of our servants to work here.”

  His grin faltered. “The most virile?”

  Oh, how wonderful it was to wipe the smug smile from his face. “Yes.”

  His posture stiffened, enough for her to notice. “You intend to select them?”

  She blinked innocently. “Must you repeat everything I say?”

  “What will your brother think?”

  “He will not know all my efforts, only the outcome.”

  One dark eyebrow shot up. “Remember what I said about an invisible rope tying us together?”

  Somehow, he’d turned things around, and she felt an uncomfortable tightening in her chest. She would have stepped back were she not leaning on the gaming table beside her. “You know of my plans now. No sense following me as I carry them out.”

  His grin surprised her. Straight white teeth flashed in his handsome face. Her cheeks grew warm, and a tingling began at the base of her neck. The large room suddenly felt very small. What was it about him that unnerved her so easily?

  “I can think of nothing better than following you about. Someone has to watch you.”

  If she had a fireplace poker, she’d hit him. It probably wouldn’t make a dent in his dense skull.

  “I am no longer a child.”

  His gaze roved her lazily from her lips to her bodice down to her feet, then back up to her eyes. “Oh, I’m very aware of that fact.”

  Her already warm cheeks grew alarmingly hot, along with other parts of her that she refused to acknowledge. Her eyes became riveted on his angular jaw and wide, sensual mouth. “And you? What are your plans?”

  He rested a hand on the table beside her. His fingers were long and tapered, his knuckles calloused, certainly not the hands of a marquess. He didn’t cage her in, but neither did he stand a respectable distance from her. She could feel the heat of his body and smell the crisp, masculine scent of his cologne.

  “Prizefighting. The club makes a tiny sum from the fights. The winners then gamble their winnings on the tables, promptly returning it to the club.”

  She knew this. She also knew prizefighting was against the law, but that didn’t stop men and even women from attending the fights in droves.

  “To start, I intend to increase the number of fights and invite champions like Gentleman Jackson, Tom Crib, Jem Belcher, Bill Richmond, and even American Tom Molyneux,” he said.

  “You think they’d box here?”

  “No. But they’d attend. People would line up to show off their skills knowing one of the champions was in attendance. Thousands of spectators attend Fives Court in Leicester Fields in St. Martin’s Lane to watch the sparring matches. I don’t expect to rival that number, but plenty will come if they know the champions will referee or simply watch.”

  This was an unexpected tactic that even her brother hadn’t thought of, and a part of her was concerned. Would Hugh’s efforts exceed hers? Would they be more profitable?

  She pushed the thought aside. Her plans must come to fruition. The women needed her. She couldn’t afford to lose. “I also insist on learning everything else you plan. An invisible rope, remember?” She tossed the words back at him, but instead of having the intended result, Hugh’s lips curled into a knowing smile.

  “I’m counting on it.”

  …

  She was going to drive him mad.

  The most virile servers.

  The idea of young men lining up for Ellie’s perusal… It was reckless and scandalous. Where was
her chaperone?

  More importantly, where was her brother, Castleton? Hugh knew without a doubt the earl had no notion of his sister’s plans. Most likely, he believed she’d ensconce herself in the office surrounded by thick ledgers while she gave orders to the burly guard, Brooks, on how best to run the establishment. The earl probably believed his sister would rarely step foot on the casino floor.

  They’d all been wrong. Her idea of a women’s gambling room was impressive. God knew, he’d encountered his fair share of ladies, widows and married ones, who sought out adventure. In his case, they’d blatantly propositioned him for a night of pleasure. He’d obliged the widows. As for married ladies, he’d never stick his prick up their skirts. Not when there were plenty of others, women who knew his expectations and would not place demands on him.

  But Ellie was different.

  Special.

  For as long as he lived, he’d never forget the girl of his youth.

  He wanted the Raven Club for his own purposes. The boxing was a strong draw for him, just as enticing as the business. He found stepping into the ring and facing an opponent exhilarating and fair after experiencing five years in the military where battles were often unfairly fought and soldiers often faced opponents ill-equipped, outnumbered, and unprepared. He was in control in the ring, and he craved the same control over his future. Owning the club was the key to ensuring power over his fate. His title wasn’t enough. It had belonged to his brother, and he’d never coveted it.

  Yes, he wanted the club, but now he wanted to protect Ellie as well.

  Damn.

  What was she thinking?

  He’d broken her heart in the past, not because he’d wanted to, but because he’d had to. His mind slipped into the past. His father’s words echoed in his head.

  “I forbid you to marry the girl. I will not have the marquessate associated with that family. There are rumors Castleton was responsible for his brother’s death to gain the earldom. He still owns that sinful gambling club. Stay away from the Castleton chit. If not, you won’t get a shilling from me, boy. Do you understand? Not a shilling. You think she will want to live as a beggar on her own family?”

  No amount of pleading had worked. His parents had always been cold and harsh, and the marquess and marchioness had been adamant. Do as he was told or suffer the consequences. He’d had no power then, no choice, and he’d hated it.

  Could he be that selfish? Could he marry Ellie with empty pockets? He’d only been eighteen years old, yet he’d known the answer. Hugh had too much pride to beg to his brother-in-law, the Earl of Castleton, for the rest of their lives. Ellie had been raised in luxury. She’d never gone without the finer things in life. Dresses and jewels. Balls, garden parties, theaters, and operas. Champagne toasts and six-course dinners. She may have been willing to give that up, but would she have grown to regret her decision?

  Would she have come to resent him?

  He’d done what was right for her then. He’d met Miss Isabelle West, who was now Lady Fabry upon her marriage to an old earl, in the gardens that fateful night. He knew what the outcome would be. He hated the kiss, hated every damned second of it. Isabelle had clung to him like a vine, and he’d felt nothing but revulsion. Yet, he hadn’t pushed her away and knew Ellie would find them.

  In hindsight, he’d sacrificed Ellie in vain. If only he’d known he’d inherit the title. The fact had left a painful knot inside him for years. But he didn’t regret looking out for Ellie.

  He’d done what was best for her then.

  He wouldn’t cease now.

  …

  “Oh, Ellie. Did it have to be Hugh Vere?”

  Ellie cringed at her younger sister’s words. It was after the evening meal, and Ellie sat on the window seat in Olivia’s bedchamber.

  “I’m not happy with the turn of events,” Ellie said.

  Olivia knew all about her troubled past with Hugh. Just like Ellie, Olivia had been surprised to learn of Ian and Grace’s decision regarding the club.

  Olivia joined her on the window seat and took Ellie’s hand. At twenty-one, Olivia was two years younger. With her fair hair and green eyes, their coloring was different. Their features, however, were similar, although Olivia didn’t have freckles on the bridge of her nose. Where Ellie was concerned with the Raven Club, Olivia had a fondness for horses, riding, and adventure. On more than one occasion, she’d eagerly waited for Ian to return from a trip to Tattersall’s to examine the horses he’d purchased. Although Olivia didn’t race, she often talked of it, and it made Ellie worry. Horse racing was how their oldest brother had died, thrown from his mount on a treacherous track.

  “It’s been five years. What is he like now? Has his appearance changed?” Olivia asked.

  “Yes and no. He’s taller.” Ellie swallowed. “And bigger.”

  “He’s fat?”

  “No. Just…bigger.” Unbidden images of Hugh in the boxing ring returned. There wasn’t a pinch of fat on his torso. As for his height, Ellie had reached her full height by seventeen. Hugh, it seemed, was several inches taller since she’d last seen him.

  “Why does he want the Raven Club?” Olivia asked.

  “He has a preference for boxing. That’s where I first saw him. Bare-fisted, prizefighting in the back of the casino.”

  “No gloves? Truly?”

  “Yes.” Heat simmered in her veins, and she feared she’d dream of him in the ring tonight. Almost all of the pugilists wore gloves, but Hugh had stepped into the ring with Bear without them. She cleared her throat. “He also claims it is a good business investment.”

  “He is a marquess now. They don’t dabble in trade.”

  The only reason their brother owned the Raven Club was because he’d been tossed out of their father’s home and needed a means to survive. Ian, like Hugh, had been born a second son of an aristocratic family. Neither were supposed to inherit their family titles.

  But unlike Ian, Hugh had been an officer when his father and older brother had died, leaving Hugh to ascend to the marquessate. He did not need the Raven Club for income.

  So what were his true motives? She didn’t trust the Devil Marquess, not one inch.

  “You should know that it was Grace who convinced Ian to hold the competition,” Olivia said.

  Ellie was grateful to her sister-in-law. Grace understood a woman’s need to have more in her life than marriage, understood a woman’s ambitions of financial independence from a man. Grace had secretly managed the ledgers of a widowed milliner before she’d married their brother. After the wedding, she’d taken over handling the club’s ledgers.

  “I would ask why Lord Deveril never married, but they say he prefers actresses over eligible young ladies,” Olivia said.

  Ellie had heard the same. Still, she asked, “Where did you hear this?”

  “In the ladies’ retiring room at Lady Holloway’s ball. It’s astonishing what women talk about after relieving themselves.”

  “Olivia!” Ellie attempted to admonish her younger sister but ended up chuckling instead.

  “Rumors say the head actress of Drury Lane was his paramour at one time,” Olivia said.

  Ellie held up a hand. She didn’t want to hear more. The Hugh she recalled was young and earnest and affectionately loyal. He’d never flirted or danced with other ladies. Nor were there any whispers about transgressions or liaisons with seasoned actresses.

  Until she’d found him kissing another lady.

  Perhaps he’d been better at hiding his true nature then. Or he’d more recently begun to realize the delights of actresses’ off-stage skills?

  “Meanwhile, do you plan to continue your work with Violet Lasher?” Olivia asked.

  Her sister knew about her efforts. Olivia never judged, and Ellie was grateful for her confidence. Olivia’s sense of adventure had aided Ellie. “I do. It is too important to set aside while I beat the Devil Marquess at his own game.”

  “Good. I’ve met a friend. Lady Willoughby.”

  “Baron Willoughby’s young wife?”

  “Yes. Lady Willoughby…Samantha, as I call her…is my age. I had sent her an invitation to join me for afternoon tea. The baron appeared in the vestibule and caused quite a commotion. He insisted on seeing his wife. I believe he thought she was having a secret liaison. Samantha paled at the sight of her towering husband in the parlor doorway. I actually feared she would faint from fear. He fetched her in a most ungentlemanly way by grasping her arm and ushering her to his carriage.”