Page 9 of A Lady’s Guide to Scoundrels and Gentlemen (The Harp & Thistle #1)

D antes was kind enough to study the tear on Vivian’s dress that had distressed her so much. Maybe she had been more upset about the tear than she should have been, but it had been the worst way to top off an already awful night. Though she had been rushed home in the solid arms of one of London’s most famous pugilists, which had been an experience in and of itself. Perhaps the night hadn’t been a full loss.

Her skin tingled as his finger slowly traced the edge of the lace. What had he meant by that comment, that black lace was wicked? It felt silly to ask, so she ignored it.

While Dantes studied her dress, Vivian studied his profile in the dim light. His strong jaw was tense, and his hair gleamed in the light. She found herself questioning why he had been so kind to her that evening when everyone else had been so awful.

Dantes had rescued her from being chased, plucked her up from the floor while the entire ballroom had stared and whispered and laughed, and literally run her home and fixed her injury with gentle expertise, even massaging her elbow after just in case. And he seemed to think nothing of any of it. This man she hardly knew had helped her more than her own brother had, this man who, before he had said his first words to her, would have frightened her if they hadn’t met in a crowded pub.

He was rather intimidating. Any large man was intimidating to a woman, of course, but the untamed wildness natural to Dantes was only enhanced by the deep, long scar on his face, making him look more like a battle-weary medieval Scottish warrior, ready to pillage villages and plunder women, than a modern, nineteenth-century man.

She found herself thinking about his declaration that he’d never marry, if preferring quiet at home was the whole truth of it, then scolded herself for such a silly direction of thought. It was none of her business. And though Dantes may have been kind with her, he remained a wild, scoundrel boxer with a pub; women from every direction; endless, flowing alcohol; a taste for gambling; and who knew what else.

It was, after all, how he knew the darkest secrets of high society men. He was one of them. He shared those secrets with them.

Even if for some silly reason Vivian added Dantes to her list of potential suitors, he would immediately be scratched out. From the little she knew about him, he was absolutely not a true gentleman.

He was exactly that which she must avoid.

Dantes finished tracing the tear and a chill went up her back when he pulled his hand away. Vivian noticed the commanding heat of his body, and how close he was to her. There was a darkening in his gaze, and it caused a funny, warm feeling to bloom in her stomach.

At this sensation, Vivial became horrified.

This was worrying. This was real life, not a fantasy encouraged by a saleswoman. It shouldn’t have been happening!

Someone rang at the front door, yanking Vivian back to Earth, dissipating the thick air that pulsed between them.

Alarms rang in Vivian’s mind. For heaven’s sake, Dantes was a scoundrel helping her find a husband ! How could she allow herself to be so easily affected? She had to put an end to this. Now!

“Ollie.” Dantes glanced back over his shoulder with a hint of frustration as, somewhere beyond the room, Heaton and a footman passed the drawing room for the front door. Seizing the opportunity, Vivian quickly slid away from Dantes farther along the sofa, turning her eyes to the floor, too timid to meet his gaze.

He was quiet for a long moment. “When you continue your search for a mate, Lady Vivian, please ensure I’m there.” And with that, he walked out, leaving her to wonder on his words.

*

In the dark hansom ride back to The Harp & Thistle, and after telling Ollie about Vivian’s elbow, Dantes recalled the forgotten scrap of lace in his pocket and pulled it out, mindlessly weaving his fingers through it.

“What is that?” Ollie was briefly illuminated by a passing streetlamp. He leaned over with curiosity. “Is that…lace?”

“Yes, from Lady Vivian’s dress.”

Ollie threw his head back in laughter. “You’re an absolute scoundrel!”

Dantes studied the intricate details of the sheer fabric, and now that it was in his hands, he could see it was a pattern of long-stemmed roses. Just like Vivian’s perfume. He brought the lace to his nose, barely picking up the scent he was seeking, and recalled the way she’d retreated from him, disgusted. Guilt and shame ripped apart his insides.

“You’re quite the odd couple,” Ollie continued.

“We are not a couple.”

“Then why do you reek of her perfume, and why are you fondling a piece of her dress in your hands?”

“None of that makes a couple, Ollie. You should know that better than anyone.”

Ollie snickered. “Yes, but I am me, and you are you.”

Dantes stuffed the lace back in his pocket, strangely comforted by its hidden presence. “What do you mean by that? I may not get around as much as you, but I haven’t been an angel, either.”

“Very well. When did you last spend time with a woman outside of the building holding our pub and your flat above it?”

Dantes frowned and had to take a moment to think. “I don’t recall.”

“You don’t recall because you never have.”

“That’s not true. What about…” Dantes thrashed desperately through his memory. How could he not remember? “What about that walk through Hyde Park we took a few years ago?”

Ollie leaned toward him, his eyebrows sky high. “Seriously? Dantes, our pub didn’t even exist yet. That was Mrs. Gifford you were with! Of course, back then, she was Miss—”

“It doesn’t matter, anyway.” Horrified by this realization, Dantes turned to look out the window. “I’m only helping Lady Vivian to get Bernard’s debt paid off.”

“You told me you didn’t need the money—though to be honest, that’s a mad amount to cast off.”

“Would you accept it?” Dantes sneered. “Accept that mad amount from a woman? It isn’t right.”

Ollie blinked. “If some nob offers to give me one thousand pounds, yes, I’m taking it.”

Dantes didn’t respond.

“Right, so why are you really doing it, then? If accepting her money is against your morals, then you have some other motive. Don’t you?”

There was a long, heavy pause. “I should have brought Victor tonight instead of you.”

Ollie laughed at this, even clapping his hands together. “Victor? He’d be even more irritating than me. At least I’m not insulting you.”

“No? Are you sure about that?” Dantes shot a look through the darkness, though in the moment, he couldn’t see more than the outline of his younger brother.

For a while, Ollie didn’t say anything, and the quiet clip-clopping of horse hooves calmed Dantes. He assumed Ollie’s questioning was over. But right as he began to ease, however, Ollie spoke again in an overly teasing tone. “Are you in love with her?”

Though Ollie was clearly joking, Dantes immediately tensed. “Ollie, you know better than to say those words.” His voice held a dark warning.

“I wasn’t serious. But I thought your issue was with saying—”

“I’ve spent two evenings with the woman. Don’t speak of such things!”

A long pause. “Why are you so defensive right now?”

“I’m not.” Though anger boiled in Dantes’s blood.

“Since we’re on the subject, your behavior was quite interesting tonight.”

“How so?” Dantes asked through gritted teeth.

“The way you bolted through the crowd when that fool fell on Lady Vivian? Shouted at everyone? Normally, you would never call attention to yourself like that. Curious, isn’t it?”

Dantes kept quiet.

“You know,” Ollie said, “not that this is related to anything, but Mum and Dad eloped after knowing each other one day.”

“Not related to anything?” Irritation rising again, Dantes rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Nope.” Ollie remained shrouded in the dark, but Dantes could hear the grin in his voice. “Not related to anything at all.”

“Then stop talking about them.”

“All I’m saying is, you could marry Lady Vivian tomorrow and it wouldn’t be the strangest thing our family has done.”

Dantes lowered his voice to a dangerous level. “She would never and should never want anything to do with me. Now drop it!”

“No,” Ollie shot back in irritation, and his tone became serious. “You’re my brother, and I’m not going to sit idly by while you’re being idiotic.”

Dantes cursed loudly. Did they really have to go into this? “Look at my face, Ollie! Do you remember why this happened?”

“Yes,” Ollie responded with caution. “Because you loved Mrs. Gifford.”

“I’m hideous now, and don’t tell me I’m not—I can see myself in the mirror. People have always kept their distance from me, but ever since…” Dantes trailed off, not caring to look back upon that day. “I could be rescuing cute, fuzzy kittens from a flood and people would still run the other direction upon seeing me. You know what he said to me after putting the blade to my face? He said, ‘ Now no one will love you ’ and blast it, he was right!”

Ollie let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “First of all, that is utterly daft. Second, despite what you think, no one cares about your scar. Women still go off with you.” Of course that would be Ollie’s chosen method of measure.

But Dantes had to get Ollie to see reason and drop this insipid subject. “I look like a criminal, a murderer. Any woman with even a shred of self-respect would not go about her life with a crazed murderer by her side.” He shook his head at himself. Why was he even saying that? He didn’t want to share his life with a woman.

“You’re not a crazed murderer.”

“Fine, but I look like one. Tonight, you heard them, didn’t you? Plenty of people there know me personally to some degree, and despite that fact still have wariness in their eyes when they see me.” Dantes paused. “Could you imagine Vivian’s young daughter playing piano at some fancy dinner party while the child’s crazed-looking father glowers off to the side as she plays ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’? Or myself at Christmas dinner with Vivian’s snobbish nob family surrounding us?”

“Yes, I can, actually, and you want to know why?” Ollie said this as the hansom came to a stop in front of their pub. Dantes, irritated and angry by this far-too-personal conversation, went to climb out. “Sit down, because I’m not done.” Ollie blocked the door.

Dantes grabbed the front of his brother’s dinner jacket. “Let me through.” He growled in warning.

But Ollie was unaffected by his threat. “I saw something interesting tonight. Do you want to know what it was?”

Dantes swore, then grudgingly let go.

Ollie pulled taught the lapels on his dress coat. “While Lady Vivian danced with those fools, she searched for you. She hardly paid them any attention. Her eyes were constantly ensuring you remained where you were. If you moved, she searched frantically for you.”

“That means absolutely nothing, Ollie. She was nervous—she admitted that to me. I was there to help her.”

“I also saw how she looked when we first arrived and you were all prettied-up.”

Dantes went silent and waited. But Ollie wasn’t continuing. Dantes rolled his eyes in the dark. “All right, how did she look?”

“Enchanted.” Ollie patted his shoulder and exited the hansom.

Dantes froze as this simple but heavy word hit him, causing an impossible, tiny flutter within, but he quickly came to his senses and shook his head at himself. What a load of rubbish his brother had given him, just to boost his confidence.