Part 2 (1/2)

”It is a risk,” she admitted, ”but I'm paid more money that way.”

”And making me the outcast of society is about money.”

”No.” Miss Rogers made an impatient sound. ”I had an idea and...it didn't work for you. But I will rectify the situation if you will give me a bit of time.”

”I don't want to give you time,” Roan said, enjoying the game. ”I want a dance.”

”I can't give you a dance. It would ruin me.”

He moved in closer. ”Or it would make us both both the talk of London-” the talk of London-”

The door opened, and a young couple all but tumbled out the door they were so anxious to throw themselves into each other's arms. Unfortunately for them, Miss Rogers was there.

”Miss Rogers?” the young girl said in surprise.

”Lady Theresa,” Miss Rogers said in tones of disapproval. ”Good evening, Mr. Grover. The two of you come with me.”

And before Roan registered what was happening, Miss Rogers marched the hapless lovers back inside the door...and escaped him.

Susan was relieved to be free of the Duke of Killeigh's overwhelming presence. The man was a menace to her.

He was also devilishly attractive.

But she couldn't dance with him. Not until this Season was over. Her creditability and livelihood depended upon it.

So, she laid into Mr. Gerald Grover with great enthusiasm. Anything to put distance between herself and the Duke of Killeigh's disturbing challenge.

A dance? How ridiculous. How dangerous. dangerous.

The hapless Gerald was happy to slink off when she was done. Of course, Lady Theresa was in tears, so it took a good part of an hour to placate her and extract further promises to behave. She really was a good girl but infatuated with her Gerald. Fortunately, Lady Theresa had been so shocked to see Susan, she hadn't noticed the duke.

After the reprimand, Susan had to hurry back out to the ballroom to check on her other charges.

All in all, it was a very hectic hour...but she did notice that the Duke of Killeigh was gone. He'd left. Apparently he hadn't wanted that dance after all.

Susan stood alone by a potted palm, away from those enjoying the ball, and was surprised by how disappointed she felt. She knew she shouldn't. Hadn't John taught her how men made promises they had no intention of keeping?

Except, for some irrational reason, she hadn't expected that from the Duke of Killeigh.

With a shake of her head, she told herself she was being silly. She couldn't dance with the duke. It was better he'd given up on her- A footman carrying a silver salver approached, interrupting her thoughts. ”Miss Rogers?” he asked.

”Yes.”

”This is for you.” The servant bowed and offered the salver. On it was the Duke of Killeigh's card.

Susan picked up the card and caught sight of the bold, slanted handwriting on the back of it. She waited until the footman had withdrawn to read what had been written.

I will will have my dance. Killeigh have my dance. Killeigh She folded the card and slipped it into her glove. Life had suddenly become very complicated.

And more than a bit exciting.

Chapter Four

If he was to claim his dance with Miss Rogers, Roan needed to be at the b.a.l.l.s she attended with her highborn charges. There was the problem.

Her nonsense about the Irish Duke and the Order of Precedence had effectively cut him off from society, or at least that corner of it.

He stewed on this matter for a good three days. When not stewing, he made it a point to learn everything he could about Miss Susan Rogers, and what he learned, he liked.

She was actually from a good family. Her sisters were married to Lord Dodgin and Sir Alec Lawson or Loud Loud son son , , as Roan liked to think of him. Sir Alec was one of the most annoying people of his acquaintance, and rumor had it that Dodgin wasn't much better. as Roan liked to think of him. Sir Alec was one of the most annoying people of his acquaintance, and rumor had it that Dodgin wasn't much better.

Perhaps that was why Miss Rogers lived in a modest set of rooms off Olivia Street. She might have decided poverty was better than living under either of their roofs. Certainly they would have extracted their pound of flesh for supporting her.

At last, his stewing hatched a plan so devilishly delightful, he knew every door in London would open to him, especially the ones hosting Miss Rogers.

The next day, he enlisted the aid of his friend, the Honorable Mr. Rees Trenholm, and they went to White's. Roan chose a time when he knew the club would be the most crowded.

”I need Raggett,” Roan informed a staff member. Raggett was White's proprietor, ”And the Betting Book.”

At the words ”Betting Book,” heads turned. The book was the most famous in London. There wasn't a man in the room who didn't enjoy a good wager, and Roan planned to make a brilliant one. It helped that Lord Alberth and Lord Bollinger sat not too far away at a table with a group of their cronies who were probably clients of Miss Rogers, too.

Roan could not have asked for a better opportunity.

Raggett wasted no time answering Roan's summons, the Betting Book under his arm. ”Your Grace, it is a pleasure to see you today,” he said with a bow.

”We wish to enter a wager,” Roan told him. He and Trenholm stood in the middle of the room, and he knew many were listening.

”Very well,” Raggett said, crossing to a secretary, where there was pen and ink. He dipped the nib of the pen, and said, ”Your wager, Your Grace?”

”One hundred pounds,” Roan said, then stopped for dramatic effect, wanting every ear in the room on him. The talking had died down. ”No,” he said, ”make that one thousand thousand pounds-” Now he had their interest. Of course, the color had drained from Trenholm's face. ”-That I will dance with Miss Susan Rogers before a fortnight has pa.s.sed.” pounds-” Now he had their interest. Of course, the color had drained from Trenholm's face. ”-That I will dance with Miss Susan Rogers before a fortnight has pa.s.sed.”

Even Raggett blinked in speculative surprise at him. The stalwart proprietor had certainly heard of Roan's dilemma. There wasn't much that was discussed under White's roof that escaped him. He lowered his head and recorded the bet.

Trenholm did his best to look brave. He didn't succeed until Roan leaned close, and, in a side voice, a.s.sured him, ”Don't worry, I'll cover both bets.”

His friend broke into a smile and immediately nudged Raggett. ”And I'll wager two two thousand pounds that the lady will not dance. What do you say, Your Grace?” thousand pounds that the lady will not dance. What do you say, Your Grace?”

What Roan had to say, he'd save for later, when he and Trenholm were alone. As it was, he had no choice but to match the bet.

Of course, there was no one within earshot who was not listening now.

All Roan had to do was say nonchalantly, ”Is there anyone else for this wager?” to find out exactly who was listening. A host of men jumped at the opportunity and placed their wagers on both sides of the bet. Alberth and Bollinger were not among their number, but that was fine with Roan. He thanked Raggett for his attention to the matter and, with a nudge to Trenholm to follow, left the club.