Regency Improprieties. Diane Gaston

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СКАЧАТЬ a Royal duke? All Rose knew about the Prince Regent’s second brother was that his mistress had been Mrs. Jordan, a famous actress. But that poor lady had died not long ago. It was said the Duke would marry now. He would become more serious about his station in life.

      Flynn would serve the Duke well, no doubt, Rose thought. Such employment meant the fulfilment of his dreams.

      Both their dreams would come true. She ought to be happy. Only, at this moment, it merely made her sad.

      ‘This is my street,’ she said, looking out of the window. ‘The coachman should stop here.’

      He rapped on the roof of the carriage, and it slowed to a stop. He got out and helped her descend.

      She pointed to a building two doors down. ‘That is my building.’

      He turned to see which one she meant and spoke suddenly. ‘What the devil is that fellow doing here?’

      She saw a man walk out of her building and turn in the opposite direction from where the carriage had stopped.

      Greythorne.

       Chapter Nine

      Tanner asked his coachman to follow Greythorne. The man walked only a short distance before jumping into a hack, but luck was with Tanner—Greythorne left the vehicle at White’s. He could not have picked a better place for an accidental meeting.

      ‘I’ll not need you,’ Tanner told his driver. ‘Take the horses back.’ He glanced up at the threatening sky, wondering if he’d regret that decision if caught in a downpour.

      He entered the gentleman’s club and greeted the doorman by name, divesting himself of his hat and gloves. Sauntering into the dining room, he spied Greythorne alone at a table, placing his order with the footman. Tanner acknowledged the few other gentlemen in the room who gestured for him to sit down, but instead made his way to Greythorne.

      ‘Well, look who is here,’ said Greythorne, watching him approach.

      Tanner grinned. ‘I’ll take that as an invitation to join you.’ He signalled the servant for some ale and lounged in the chair opposite his rival.

      ‘Ale?’ Greythorne sniffed.

      Tanner cocked his head. ‘I like ale.’

      Greythorne lifted his nose. ‘To what do I owe this … honour?’

      ‘Thought I would see how our game is going.’ He leaned forward. ‘Making any progress?’

      Greythorne sneered. ‘Do you think I would tell you?’

      Tanner sat back again. ‘Actually, I did. I mean, if you have won the girl, you would be more than happy to tell me.’

      The servant brought Tanner his ale and brandy for Greythorne.

      ‘So,’ Tanner went on, ‘you have not won the girl, but neither have you given up, I’d wager.’

      Greythorne scowled at him. ‘I am progressing nicely, if you must know.’

      ‘Indeed?’ Tanner said. ‘So am I. What is your progress?’

      Greythorne swirled the brandy in his glass and inhaled its bouquet before taking a gentlemanly sip. Only then did he answer, ‘I believe I shall not tell you.’

      Tanner lifted his tankard and gulped some ale, licking his lips of the remaining foam. ‘Then I cannot very well report my progress either, can I? We are at a stand.’

      Greythorne eyed him with disgust. ‘I am sure it makes not a whit of difference to me.’

      Tanner leaned forward again. ‘Does not the competition fire your blood, man? The prize becomes more precious for knowing another covets it.’

      ‘For you, perhaps,’ Greythorne said with a casual air Tanner did not believe in the slightest.

      ‘Where is your fighting spirit?’ Tanner taunted. ‘This is a manly challenge, is it not? Who will win the fair maid?’

      Greythorne gave a sarcastic laugh. ‘Shall we joust for our little songstress? Shall we don our chainmail and armour and wave our banners?’

      Tanner pretended to seriously consider this. ‘The Tannerton armour will not fit me. Too small.’ He eyed Greythorne. ‘Might fit you, though.’

      The barb hit. Greythorne’s eyes flashed with anger as he took another sip of his brandy.

      Smiling inwardly, Tanner went on, ‘No a joust would not do. How about fisticuffs?’

      The man nearly spat out his drink. ‘Do not be absurd!’

      Tanner pretended to be offended. ‘You proposed a physical contest, not I.’

      ‘I am not going to engage in a physical contest to see who wins the girl,’ Greythorne snapped.

      Tanner lifted his tankard. ‘I beg your pardon. I misunderstood you.’ He took one very protracted gulp, knowing he kept Greythorne hostage during it. Finally he set the tankard back on the table and continued as if he’d never interrupted his conversation. ‘So no physical contest for the girl. I do agree. That seems rather trite. How about a physical contest to learn this progress we each have made?’

      Greythorne looked aghast.

      Gratified, Tanner went on, ‘If you win, I tell you what we have achieved in conquest of the girl. If I win, you tell me the progress you have made. Agreed?’

      ‘No, I do not agree!’ Greythorne looked at him as if he were insane. ‘You would have us pound at each other with our fists over such a trifle? I assure you, I would do no such thing.’

      Tanner did not miss a beat. ‘Oh, not fisticuffs. That would not be a fair fight at all. I’ve no real desire to injure you—well, not much of a desire anyway—or to injure my hands.’ He looked at his hands as if admiring them.

      Greythorne’s eyes shot daggers.

      Tanner returned a sympathetic look. ‘We could tame this for your sake. Perhaps a game of cards, if a physical contest is too fearful—I mean, if it is not to your liking.’

      The man straightened in his chair. ‘I am well able to defend myself, if the sport is a gentlemanly one.’

      ‘Oh?’ Tanner lifted his brows. ‘A race, perhaps? On horseback or phaeton?’

      Greythorne grimaced.

      ‘No? Too dirty?’ Tanner said. ‘What then?’

      He waited, enjoying the corner he’d put Greythorne in.

      Finally Greythorne answered, ‘Swords.’

      Tanner grinned. ‘Swords it is!’

      When they walked out of White’s, leaving a rustle of voices discussing what was overheard, it had started to rain. Greythorne opened an umbrella, not offering its shelter СКАЧАТЬ