“Centuries old porcelain,” Saville griped. “And she’s not done. I had to forcibly remove her from my study after she got into my liquor cabinet and threw a two-hundred-year-old cognac against my wall. My office still reeks of spirits.”
“I take it that was before she stopped speaking to you?” Deerhurst asked.
“Don’t know what’s more unnerving, her shouting or her silence.”
So Deerhurst wasn’t the only one with problems. But then, Lady Selena would eventually forgive Saville. They were family, after all. This was why he had wanted to secure Phaedra’s hand before he told her the truth. They would have been family then. Family forgave family. Simple as that.
“What do you suppose will happen after tonight?” Deerhurst asked. It had been a question that plagued him ever since Phaedra appeared on the top of the Stewart stairwell with a top hat and cane. He couldn’t think about the rest of her outfit. It made him hard, which given the circumstances, was quite beastly.
“Depends on how deep the women’s outrage goes,” Warrick said with a shrug.
“I was thinking more in the lines with the betting book. One of the women has it. White’s will want it back.”
“That is correct.” A new voice joined their conversation.
Deerhurst lifted his gaze to find the Duke of Mortimer stepping up to their table, face devoid of any clues as to what he might be thinking.
“As a patron of this establishment, I’d like to see the book returned.”
Saville scowled. “We don’t know who has it.”
“However, the suspects have been reduced to four.”
Deerhurst cursed. Mortimer must have been charged with investigating the theft and finding the book so that the club’s reputation didn’t suffer a greater blow.
He was not a man to be trifled with.
“Good luck with that, old chap,” Saville drawled, a careless grin hanging on his lips. “You come near my sister, you and I will be facing off.”
“Your sister started a revolt.”
“Revolt?” Warrick said. “I haven’t heard anything about a revolt.”
“I agree with Warrick,” Saville drawled. “How can one slip of a woman start a revolt?”
Deerhurst inwardly snorted.
“One woman, no. Four? Perhaps,” Mortimer said.
Saville merely laughed. “You suspect them just because they reacted to a disservice that occurred in this club.”
“You know all about that, don’t you?” Mortimer said.
Deerhurst cursed when Saville’s smile froze. He recognized the look that entered his gaze—trouble. Mortimer’s words were a kick in the teeth.
“The real disservice done here,” Deerhurst spoke up, “was by the man that found a list and showcased it like a peacock in heat.”
Warrick nodded. “Cromby, if you haven’t heard.”
“I heard,” Mortimer said. “He, however, did not remove the book from White’s. I suspect one of the names on that list did.”
Deerhurst regarded Mortimer with a dark look. “And any male associated with the name on the list, I hope.”
Mortimer smiled. “Why do you think I’m here discussing the matter with you?”
Saville cursed. They were Deerhurst’s sentiments exactly. He hoped by the Saints that the book was not in Phaedra’s possession.
“What punishment will be doled out to whoever stole the book?” Warrick asked.
