Page 52 of Dare to Risk it All

Raphe was escorting Greer out of the inn, content, and proud to have his lovely fiancée on his arm, when they passed two women chattering in the corridor. They were of the upper classes, lavishly dressed in the latest fashion. By the sound of things, they were thoroughly enjoying shredding someone’s reputation into tiny pieces with their cut glass accents. The conversation reached Raphe’s ears as they passed, as the women did not bother to lower their voices.

“Well, and what can you expect from a wicked man like that, a notorious libertine? Goodness, some of the shocking stories that circle about him and his light skirts, one wonders at his stamina. Of course, he was likely hell-bent on trysting with the maid himself and that’s why he was so incensed at Lord Plumpton’s interference. The poor man was only acting as men will, and the girl ought to have known better than to be alone in such a place. I never have maids above stairs at such an event after ten o'clock. They’ll always cause trouble.”

“They’ll cause trouble?” Raphe asked, unable to stop himself from interrupting.

The women, who had been gossiping merrily, blithely unaware of all who were listening in, gasped. One of them clutched at the pearl necklace at her throat, swallowing convulsively.

Though he was aware of Greer’s hand upon his arm, he could not stifle the surge of anger that rose in his chest. “You think it was the maid’s fault she was attacked when she was going about her business? You think a man has no self-control in such a situation, that we are all beasts who give into our baser natures at the least provocation?”

“Well, you ought to know, my lord,” one woman retorted, eyeing him with amused contempt. She was perhaps in her forties, a comfortably padded woman with the first scattering of grey at her temples, and cold blue eyes.

Raphe heard Greer’s furious intake of breath and covered her hand with his own, hoping she’d hold her tongue.

“Indeed, I have given into my baser nature far too often, and I am aware the scandal sheets never fail to entertain those with a taste for salacious details. It appears you have closely followed my exploits, and yet, I’ve never needed to force my attentions on a woman. They’ve always been willing.”

“Like this one, I suppose,” the woman retorted, giving Greer a look of sheer disgust.

“Mind your tongue, harpy. That is Lord de Ligne’s fiancée and my daughter,” Mrs Cadogan said, looking as if she’d scratch the woman’s eyes out given the opportunity.

“Bonnie,” Jerry said, aiming an expression of frank dislike at the harpy and taking his wife’s arm as if to hold her back. “We’re in a public place, ladies,” he warned them both.

The two women glared at each other, the atmosphere prickling with tension.

“Come away, Mrs Andover,” her companion said, tugging at her friend’s arm. “Lord de Ligne has no business speaking to you so rudely. He’s probably drunk.”

“He ain’t drunk.”

Raphe turned to see Bainbridge at his back, glowering at the women who blanched at the sight of the marquess.

“Mrs Andover, and Mrs Fisher,” he said, pronouncing their names as if they tasted unpleasant. “Bosom beaus of Lord Plumpton’s Mama.”

“Well, and what of it?” Mrs Fisher retorted.

“What of it?” Bainbridge repeated, as if considering the question. “Let’s see. Lord Plumpton is a vile little sneak who likes to take advantage of those weaker than he is, whilst the baron here championed a woman in distress. So, let me make things plain for you. If I hear you defend Plumpton again—the disgusting prick—and put the blame at my friend’s feet, I might need to recall a certain incident at a dinner party last year and make it public.”

Raphe was interested to see Mrs Fisher’s colour heighten. The woman’s lips pursed tight, as if drawn by a gathering string.

“Jolly good,” Bainbridge said, as if that settled everything, which it must have done as the two awful women hurried away. “Come along, Raphe, I want to go home. Where’s my wife got to? Bella?”

Everyone flinched as he bellowed his wife’s name about the inn.

“Laurie, I’m right here,” Arabella said, exasperated, reaching up and tapping him on the shoulder as Bainbridge turned around and discovered her directly behind him.

“Well, what are you hiding back there for? Come along,” he said, taking her arm and guiding her outside.

Arabella rolled her eyes at Greer as she passed, but hurried along in his wake.

Raphe hesitated as everyone filed out, glancing down at Greer.

“I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly. “I ought not have made a scene.”

Greer shook her head, her eyes grave as she looked up at him. “I am very glad you did. I’m proud of you.”

Frowning, Raphe tried to quell an uncertain, uneasy sensation in his guts.

“What?” she asked.

“They were right. About me, I mean. There are some shocking stories.”