Page 127 of Almost A Scoundrel

“Once we get the book,” Mortimer said. “We can address the matter of the copies.”

Good luck with that, duke.

“You’re hoping tempers will die down once the book is back at White’s?” Deerhurst guessed.

Mortimer ached a brow. “You don’t think it will work?”

“I think as long as coin is being collected at the expense of these women, tempers will remain high and foolish action will take precedence over common sense,” Deerhurst said.

“What do you suggest?” Leeds asked.

“Clean slate,” Deerhurst said. “If the book is to be returned to White’s, let it return without the wagers in it.” It wasn’t much but it was something.

“Declare them null and void,” Mortimer said thoughtfully. “You believe that will work?”

“I believe it’s a start,” Deerhurst said.

Leeds nodded. “A compromise.”

“These women are smart,” Deerhurst said with a smile. “They know they can’t control whether we open another book or not. They just want to be acknowledged. Then again with both sides of the coin offended, it will be a herculean task.”

“At this point all we can do is try,” Mortimer said. “Does Lady Phaedra have the betting book? Do you know? I need to find it first before we can begin a compromise.”

Deerhurst didn’t envy Mortimer’s task. These heiresses weren’t easy to deal with. Just look at his sorry state. “Unfortunately, that, I do not know. If she does, she hasn’t said anything to me.”

And she wouldn’t be saying anything to him for a while.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Phaedra still feltqueasy and dazed the following evening when she entered the drawing room—the first time in a week. It was three o’clock in the morning. Sleep proved impossible.

There was no escaping Deerhurst.

His words played in her mind like a carriage wheel rolling down a hill. And every time it came to a crashing halt, another wheel would start rolling down the hill. An endless loop of accusations and hurt.

But what stuck with her most...You can either choose love or choose misery for us both.

And no doubt, she was choosing misery for them both. Why else would she be wandering around the house restless and miserable when all she wanted to do was dash the distance between here and the house next door and fling herself in a certain earl’s arms?

Yet she didn’t.

One way or another, Phaedra had to face her cowardice, the reason her feet held her in place. With a sigh, she plonked into a chair and lowered her face into her hands.

“Can’t sleep?”

Phaedra nearly leaped from the chair in fright. She glanced around the shadows of the room. A silhouette stood in the doorway.

“Mr. Brayton?” She looked past him. “Where is my aunt?”

“Kitchen.”

Oh. She didn’t ask any more. Who knew what answer she might get, given what she knew of the two.

“May I?” He motioned to one of the chairs and she nodded. May as well. Mr. Brayton seemed to have become part of the household as her aunt’s companion. She wondered if her father was aware of this. Probably not, Phaedra thought with a touch of amusement. The Sharp residence was run by women. Of that there was no doubt.

“You’re not surprised to find me here this late?” Mr. Brayton asked.

“You’d be surprised how little shocks me these days.”