The Last Man in London Page 16

  “It’s ‘im, ain’t it, love?” Joe said, a dark look glimmering in his eyes. “Did ‘e …” he began, as Dinah jumped in alarm, startled back to her senses by the anger in his voice. She grasped hold of his arm as he stood, tugging him back down into his seat.

  “No!” she said, looking him in the eyes, her voice firm. “Ben, that is … Lord Lancaster has been a perfect gentleman, Joe. He’s done nothing wrong. Nothing at all,” she added, wishing rather too hard that it wasn’t true. Damn the man for finding his conscience at such a moment. Yet maybe it was for the best. The little taste she’d had of the pleasure to be found with him had been enough to tempt her into thinking that being his mistress wouldn’t be so very bad. That was a slippery slope.

  Joe huffed and folded his arms, his expression mutinous. “Well, you ain’t been acting right the past few days, and I’ve ‘ad no sight of ‘is lordship neither. Seems damn fishy to me.”

  Dinah shook her head and did her best to give him a reassuring smile. “He’s being kind, Joe, trying to make it easier for me. This has to end. We have the money now, just as we wanted, and so it’s time to do as we promised and release him from his obligation.” Dinah kept her hands clasped in her lap, pressing her nail into her thumb until it hurt to distract herself from her own emotions as they threatened to overwhelm her. She took a calming breath and carried on. “His reputation and his family have suffered enough from the scandal we forced on him. I cannot allow it to go on any longer.”

  “Well, ‘e’s got the letter you wrote,” Joe said with a shrug.

  Dinah swallowed and shook her head. “I think he’s too much of a gentleman to use it, Joe. I think … I think we must do this for him. It’s the least I can do for …”

  Her voice trembled her composure crumbling all at once, and Joe leapt to his feet.

  “Dinah!” Moving around the table with surprising speed for a man of his size, he hauled Dinah to her feet and embraced her. She was too startled to protest. Joe hadn’t given her one of his bear hugs in many years, thinking her far too much the grown-up lady for such things. “I knew it,” he said, his voice thick. “You’re in love with ‘im, ain’cha?”

  He swore, the word low and bitter as Dinah nodded. It was useless to pretend otherwise now.

  “I knew it was a bad idea,” Joe growled, shaking his head with remorse. “Fella like that an’ you with no more notion of men than a kitten. I might as well ‘ave thrown you to the bleedin’ lions.”

  “Oh, Joe!” Dinah protested, crying and laughing all at once. “Don’t be so dramatic. It was no more your fault than it was his. He’s a good man, better than I think he realises himself, really. He acted just as he ought. Please don’t go making accusations to him when he’s been so very kind to us.”

  Joe glowered a little, clearly not knowing what to do in the circumstances which were quite outside of his experience, and of hers, too.

  “What’ll you do?” he asked, his voice low, his dark eyes full of concern for her.

  Dinah shrugged, knowing what needed to be done to end this charade, and knowing she needed to do it at once, before her courage failed her.

  “I’ll set him free,” she said with a wan smile. “And then … we’ll all get on with our lives.”

  ***

  Ben tilted the bottle once more, filling his glass, though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t get drunk tonight. It wasn’t getting him anywhere. The same thoughts turned in his head with a terrible inevitability. He had to , and he had to do it fast.

  The only thing he was certain of was that he missed Dinah. The longing for her grew day by day instead of diminishing as a cowardly part of him had hoped it might.

  He was at his club as had been his habit at this hour for many years. He’d usually have a few drinks, perhaps a word or two with various acquaintances before he took himself off to whatever dubious pleasure he had lined up. Continuing to live such a life gave him a hollow feeling inside, a strange ache clawing at his heart for something else … something more. At last, he recognised that unsettled, restless sensation that had plagued him of late as boredom, dissatisfaction with a life that had no meaning, that gave him no challenge, no sense of fulfilment or contentment. His life was as empty as a drum, and all the pleasure he had once derived from it had long since ceased to entertain him.

  Ben groaned and put his head in his hands. He didn’t like his life, he didn’t even like himself a great deal. So what the hell was he going to do about it? What did he want to do?

  He wanted to be with Dinah. The answer was simple if he disregarded all the difficulties that surrounded the decision. He felt better when he was with her, whole, as if he mattered in a way that his family and his title had never made him feel. In the scheme of his family, he was the youngest son. They had the heir, and they had the spare, Ben was superfluous. He always had been. Not to Dinah though. He’d meant enough to her to give him everything that mattered. Did that mean she loved him? He sucked in a breath as he realised that he had to know. How could he make a decision that could change his entire world without being certain of that one desperately important fact? So, he had made one decision, at least. He would ask her if she did and if she said yes, he would … he would … well, he would cross that bridge when he got to it, but he would not turn his back on her.

  He lifted his glass, intending to drain it, and then paused with the glass at his lips as a collective gasp ran through the room.

  Ben turned, wondering what had caused such a stir, and then felt his heart drop to his boots as he saw Dinah walking through his club towards him. Women could not set foot in the hallowed grounds of a gentlemen’s club, and he wondered what in the name of God she was doing. Hadn’t they scandal enough to contend with?

  He got to his feet, suddenly terrified that something dreadful had happened, else why would she be here? She strode up to him, a determined expression on her face, though she looked pale, her eyes too wide and full of some emotion he could not read.

  “Dinah?” he said, staring at her as she closed the distance between them … and then slapped him hard.

  Ben staggered, not from the force of the blow, though it had stung, but from the shock at being treated so, and in public.

  “How could you?” she cried, her voice pitched to carry far across the room. “You couldn’t be faithful until we were married at least?” she demanded, tears sparkling in her eyes now as her voice trembled.

  Ben felt shock roll over him as he realised what she was doing. Panic rose in his chest, an acidic feeling in his mouth as he moved towards her, his hands outstretched.

  “Dinah,” he began, his voice pleading. No. No. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want her to set him free. He wanted it to be true. Now that she had taken the choice from his hands, it was ridiculously clear to him. “Please, love, don’t …”

  “Well, you can forget it,” she carried on, sounding a little hysterical now. “I won’t marry a rake and a libertine. Go back to your pretty dancer or actress, or whatever it is you’re taking to you bed now. I won’t have you!” She threw a small leather case at him which he realised were the jewels he’d lent her, the ones he’d taken from her naked body when she had offered herself to him.

  She turned away from him, head held high as she stalked out of the club.

  “Dinah,” Ben called, realising that everyone was watching him make a damn fool of himself and not giving a damn. “Dinah, wait, don’t do this. I don’t want you to …”

  She had almost reached the front door when he caught up with her.

  “Dinah, wait, please, love.” Ben grasped her arm and forced her to stop. He watched as she turned and looked at him for a moment, her eyes glittering with tears.

  “Goodbye, Ben,” Her voice soft as her expression changed. She smiled at him and gave him a knowing wink and then tugged her arm free. “Thank you … for everything.”

  A moment later and she was gone, and Ben just stood and watched her go, frozen with shock. My God, she’d w
inked at him, as though the whole thing had just been a game. She’d smiled and winked and thanked him as if … as if it had meant nothing to her.

  His heart was beating too fast, he was hot, and he couldn’t breathe, his chest so tight he felt he might suffocate. He looked up to see an acquaintance approaching the door, obviously on his way to some party.

  “Up to your old tricks, eh, Ben?” the fellow chuckled, giving him a lewd smile. “Well, she was a pretty piece, right enough, though don’t know why you’d marry the chit. Lucky escape, if you ask me.”

  The blow landed with a satisfying thud, the right hook they knew him for among those that frequented Jackson’s boxing saloon flooring the man with ease. Ignoring the gasps of shock as he added to the evening’s entertainments, Ben pushed the doors open, and headed out into the night.

  Chapter 21

  “Wherein happiness is a thing long forgotten.”

  On hearing footsteps approaching the kitchen, Dinah snatched the news sheet from the table and hid it on her lap. Joe was not easily fooled, however, and the rustle of paper must have reached his keen ears. He walked into the kitchen and paused for a moment before reaching under the table top and pulling the crumpled paper from her hand. He lifted it, staring at the headline with disgust before screwing it up in a ball and throwing it in the fireplace. Not that it mattered. Its contents were seared onto her brain, along with every other story she’d read over the past weeks.

  “Why do you keep readin’ those blasted scandal rags?” Joe demanded, folding his arms and staring at her. Anyone who didn’t know him might think he was furious, which he was but Dinah could see the worry and concern in his eyes and it made her throat tight. “Do you want to be miserable? What’s the point in torturing yourself, eh?”

  Dinah shook her head, having no reasonable answer to give. That Ben had returned to his former way of life with great enthusiasm was clear enough. Every week there seemed to be some new scandal though the last one had even made the headlines. He’d reportedly fought a duel, over some Cyprian, if the rumours were to be believed. Dinah had no reason to doubt it. When she’d first seen his name in connection to the duel, she’d been terrified, thinking he might have been injured. Though the report was vague, this didn’t appear to be the case, but the fear had struck so deep in her heart she realised she was a hopeless case. No matter he’d forgotten her with such ease.

  Joe sighed and sat down, taking her hand. “This ain’t you, Dinah. You need to fight this. The girl I know wouldn’t sit in the dark an’ cry over spilt milk. She’d get up and look the world in the face and spit in its eye.”

  Dinah snorted, giving Joe a wry smile.

  “It’s your birthday, little D,” he said, his voice low and so full of sorrow that Dinah felt like the lowest creature on earth for making him worry so. Joe had never let her down, never complained or thrown the sacrifices he’d made for her in her face. The least she could do was to pull herself out of this miserable pit she’d allowed herself to slide into. Even if it was only an act. She could do that for him, at least.

  She sucked in a breath and nodded, squeezing the big fingers that clasped hers.

  “You’re right, of course, Joe,” she said, smiling. “You always are.”

  “Well, I know that, you silly goose,” he grumbled, giving her a wink.

  Dinah laughed, and though it seemed a hollow sound to her ears, Joe looked relieved to hear it. “It is my birthday, after all,” she said, sitting up a little straighter. “So … let’s go and celebrate.”

  ***

  Ben laughed, throwing his cards down on the table and shaking his head. He’d lost a small fortune tonight, and not for the first time, either. Still, now he was back in the bosom of his family, he had no concerns about money. He could lose and lose, and it wouldn’t matter a damn.

  Tommy, however, didn’t seem to agree.

  “That’s enough, Ben,” he said, sounding surprisingly stern. He hadn’t wanted to come to the party at all and had only accompanied Ben because he couldn’t talk him out of it. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”

  “No!” Ben wrestled his arm free with ease as Tommy tugged at it, trying to get him to stand. “You’re not my bloody mother,” Ben snapped, immediately regretting his anger as he saw the hurt in his friend’s eyes. God, he’d become such a bastard. Tommy was a good and kind man, a loyal friend. He didn’t know why on earth Tommy bore with him with such determination though? Even Owen was keeping his distance. Owen had tried to talk sense into him, and when that helpful advice had fallen on deaf ears, he’d said he’d not stay to watch Ben destroy himself by increments. Ben hadn’t seen him since.

  The rest of the world saw Lord Lancaster back to his old tricks. It looked to them as though he was enjoying his life at breakneck speed and giving the ton something to talk about. He’d been in and out of the scandal sheets with a regularity that surprised even him. Some stories were even true, and his reputation for gambling and partying and reckless living was darkening further an already blackened name. Not that he gave a damn. He didn’t care about anything anymore, least of all what the ton thought of him. Owen and Tommy knew him too well, though, and they could see through the façade.

  That the stories of women and debauchery were far from truth was something he didn’t care to dwell upon. He’d attempted to return to his mistresses and to a life of jumping from bed to bed and found from the outset he no longer desired such pleasures. His first attempt at putting Dinah from his mind had resulted in an embarrassing scene with an old lover that had left her bemused and rather annoyed, and him utterly mortified. Wasn’t that ironic? Dinah had not only stolen his heart, but she’d taken any remaining pleasure to be found in his old way of life. Bitterness welled in his throat and he swallowed it down with difficulty.

  So he drank, and he gambled and he fought, living as recklessly as possible in an attempt to divert his mind from everything he’d wanted and couldn’t have. He’d been well on the road to destruction already, in fact, but then he’d seen another name in the gossip sheets that had made his heart leap to his throat.

  Dinah was making a name for herself.

  It had been almost two months since he’d last seen her, when that cheery wink and carefree little smile had shattered him with such ease and set him down this path. Life had seemed unbearable enough in the days that had followed that little revelation, but there had been worse to come. In the past weeks, she had become all the rage, taking the ton by storm as the beautiful heiress who loved to gamble, and couldn’t lose, became the talk of the town.

  Men of all ranks, from viscounts to dukes to wealthy cits, were queuing up to try their hand against Miss Diamond, as she’d now been dubbed, after relieving the duke of Sherringham of a large diamond ring. There was a rumour he wanted her for his mistress and had offered her a carte blanche.

  Was this what she’d wanted all along? To make herself fashionable and notorious and as scandalous as he was? To think he’d left her with her virtue intact, believing he was doing the honourable thing, when all along … He gritted his teeth, wishing he could stop torturing himself with memories of her, laid out like a gift for him and him alone. He’d been a damn fool and should have just taken what she’d offered him and made her his mistress. Yet he knew now he’d wanted more than that.

  He wondered if she’d taken a lover yet. She’d have offers aplenty now, though Sherringham’s must have been the most tempting. He was handsome and known to be generous with his paramours. She was young and beautiful and wealthy and dashing. He knew that with her fast wit and charm, she’d have men falling at her feet. She’d even snared the duke he’d once imagined she’d been aiming for. He’d been closer to the truth than he’d realised, it seemed. What an idiot he was, to have fallen for such a girl and have allowed her to grind his heart to dust.

  “Ben, please,” Tommy said, his voice low. Ben looked up, guilt an extra burden he could well do without as Tommy looked at him with increasing anxiety.

&nb
sp; “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, getting to his feet. He didn’t sway despite the amount he’d drunk. It seemed to get harder and harder to reach that happy oblivion that alcohol alone could bring him. He’d have to keep trying. Perhaps he’d allow Tommy to escort him home and then go out again, once the fellow had left.

  They were walking towards the foyer when he saw her. She had just risen from the card table to the obvious disappointment of the men who had been her opponents. Dinah smiled for them and laughed at their demands to let them try their hand again, but Ben thought perhaps the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She looked different somehow.

  It was most likely the clothes and the jewels. She was dressed in the height of style, the gorgeous bronze satin gown clinging lovingly to her curves. Her curls were looser than was the fashion and Ben felt a pang of sorrow as he remembered the girl who had cried and not wanted to go to the ball because her hair was a mess. Had that been an act? Now he had noted her style was being copied and taken up by others of the beau monde.

  He stood, just staring as she moved away, knowing full well that Tommy was watching him with pity in his eyes, but quite unable to stop himself. Tommy and Owen knew the truth behind his misery though he’d never admitted it and they’d never spoken of it. They’d have to be blind not to realise, though, and after all, they’d thought the engagement was for real. Ben watched Dinah as she left the tables, staring at her like a starving man at a bakery window. Despite his own pain, he found himself relieved that Joe moved behind her, her ever present shadow and defender, though the man did not look in the least happy.

  She was almost at the door to the foyer when she stopped in her tracks, and for a moment Ben thought he saw terror in her eyes. Her lovely face drained of colour and she reached out, clutching at Joe’s sleeve. Whatever had alarmed her so, Joe had obviously seen, too, as his face darkened. Ben followed his gaze to see a young man, laughing too loud at the Hazard tables. He knew the boy by reputation, a nasty, spoilt brat, the kind who liked to torture puppies and inflict pain on the helpless, from what he’d heard. There were angry red marks upon his face, scars that had not yet faded.