That damn list.
He felt like the bloody devil himself. The worst sort of scoundrel.
Debating certain attributes of women over brandy was one thing, writing the content down was quite another, but losing the list? That was deuced unacceptable. And yet Warrick had done exactly that.
He had lost the list.
Damn his foxed hide. Words could be forgotten or passed over. Ink, on the other hand, could neither be overlooked nor denied.
And Warrick couldn’t have misplaced the list at his home either. No, he had to lose it at White’s, only for the scrap of paper to fall into the hands of Cromby, who, curse his wretched soul, had pinned it to the betting book.
Wagers were running rampant.
“And you just happened to notice the lineup of my suitors?” Phaedra asked with a hint of mistrust.
Deerhurst debated whether to tell her the truth or not. In the end, he couldn’t see any harm, so he admitted, “I seem to have the damnedest luck whenever I pass your house.”
“Oh?” Her tone suggested she still didn’t quite believe him.
Deerhurst nodded. “My gaze seems to be drawn to the double windows of your receiving room,” he confessed. “I always witness something inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate? That cannot be.”
He arched a brow. “You would be surprised at how much goes on in that drawing room.”
She laughed, and the sound set Deerhurst’s heart thumping at a strong pace. Not as all as his friends described. There was nothing ear-splitting about her laughter. They had it all wrong.
“Prove it. Tell me something you witnessed.”
“You drew a pistol on Lord Lowbrow.”
Her eyes widened, and he grinned down at her. Deerhurst could practically feel the wheels of her mind spinning.
“At first,” he ventured on when no words from her were forthcoming. “I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing but after my initial shock, it was rather entertaining to watch.”
She blinked at him.
He smiled. “I never thought that one day I would be a participant in one of your incidents.”
“Let us not forget that you instigated this incident.” A small pause. “Did anyone else see that besides you?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Although, I do wonder—” he sent her a thoughtful look. “Do you always carry a pistol at the ready?”
She lifted her chin. “Only when I receive gentlemen I know to be suspect.”
“Have you ever been wrong?”
“The marriage mart is like a jungle, Deerhurst. You must learn who the vipers are before you get struck by one.” She gave him a look that spoke volumes. “I suppose it’s different for men.”
“Not so different. Entrapment goes both ways.”
She gave a thoughtful nod. “I suppose that is true.”
“No gentleman has come up to snuff? Caught your interest?” His eyes dropped to her lips. He couldn’t help it. They seemed to be drawn to their delicate arch. Like bees are drawn to honey.
“Nor will any.”
“And why is that?”
