Page 59 of A Cinderella to Redeem the Earl

He laughed heartily and raised his spoon to his lips.

‘You will give yourhonestopinion,’ she said with mock severity.

He tasted the confection. For a second, he paused, looking at her, laughter in his eyes like some sort of naughty lad bent on mischief. ‘Excellent. All is as it should be.’

She let go her breath. ‘As I expected. You must know I would not hire anyone who was not up to scratch.’

He reached across to where her hand rested on the table and took it in his. ‘I trust you implicitly, my dear. You will pardon my teasing. You were looking just a fraction anxious.’

‘Because you are so unpredictable.’ She gasped. She had not intended to speak her mind right at that moment.

His eyes widened. Surprise, not anger. ‘In what way?’

Heat travelled up from her chest to her face. But she had started this and it was too late to stop. ‘One minute you are, well, all warm and friendly. The next you are as cold as ice. I do not know whether I am on my head or my heels.’

He leaned back and picked up his glass of red wine, looked at it reflectively and put it down again, as if he had come to some sort of decision.

‘I find myself in somewhat of a quandary. I—’ His voice was little more than a murmur.

She leaned forward the better to hear.

‘You are a beautiful woman, Pamela. I was your employer and now we are business partners, yet against all social mores, I find myself drawn to you. I was trying...’ There was a long pause.

‘To protect me.’ she put in.

‘To protect us both, I suppose. I have a position in society to uphold.’

She frowned. Bewildered. ‘As the owner of a hell?’

He chuckled. ‘Of course not. I told you. This is not a hell. These are parties, to which only the noblest of families are invited. To receive an invitation to one of my parties is to be recognised as a member ofla crème de la crème.’

She shook her head. ‘I do not understand.’

‘As one of the wealthiest men in England, I have no need to win their money. Therefore, they can trust that I will not cheat them.’

How could that be when this house was decaying from neglect? And if he didn’t need the money, then why do it at all? Why count every penny they won as if it was precious? ‘Wealthiest?’ She could not help the disbelief in her tone.

‘Are you giving me the lie?’ he asked mildly, but there was an edge to his voice.

‘I simply do not understand why you would hold gambling parties if you do not need to make money from them. Why not simply go to White’s or Boodle’s or any one of a number of respectable gentlemen’s clubs?’

‘There. You see. You have identified exactly why.’

‘I have?’

He got up from his seat, came around to her and helped her out of the chair and led her to the sofa by the fire. ‘Let me pour you a brandy.’

She occasionally took a brandy with him after dinner, so his offer did not come as a surprise. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

He went to the console and selected one of the decanters. ‘You said,’ he said as he poured, ‘gentlemen’s clubs’. No ladies allowed. Some friends and I were discussing this one evening at a ball and one of the ladies indicated that she thought it unfair that ladies were excluded. From there, we talked of opening places like White’s to the ladies, much to the horror of the other men present.’

He handed her the glass and sat beside her with a brief lift of his glass in a toast.

She sipped at the brandy and savoured the smooth flavour.

‘One lady suggested that they open a ladies’ club,’ he continued. ‘No men allowed. Tit for tat. But where is the fun in that? I wagered that I could open a club where both sexes could mingle and enjoy together what normally they must enjoy apart.’

‘But they have card parties all the time. Routs. Drums. Balls. There is always gambling.’