Chapter Five

September 21, 1812

She had been a fool to agree to this.

Dodo knew it. She'd returned to her lodgings yesterday and thrown herself on the bed, attempting to concoct five good reasons how she could escape the agreement.

"Fine. We have a deal."

Anything she thought of was discounted. It just wasn't possible. The Earl of Lindow had turned the gambling folk in Bath against her, preventing her from sending money home, and without it…

It just didn't bear thinking about.

The stupid man is making things impossible , Dodo thought viciously as she walked up Charlotte Street. All she had to do was teach the little saucebox a few of the basics—Lord knows, he didn't seem to have a handle on any of them—and she could be on her way, back to the card tables.

Back where earls did not wander about sabotaging ladies and forcing agreements on them.

Five, seven, nine …

Dodo was calmed by the gentle repetition of the odd numbers of the houses on this side of the street. No matter what happened with people, she would always have numbers. Reliable, unchanging, steadfast—

Fifteen.

She looked up at the tall building which bore the address Mr. Chance—Lord Lindow, she truly must remember to call him that—had given her.

And swallowed.

It was a large building. Grand. Pouring with wealth. Stuccos all over the place. Large, mullioned windows lined with lead, elegant curtains just visible through each one. The paint was a crisp white, the geraniums in each planter on the windowsills were blossoming, and it was altogether magnificent.

Her brother, Ellis, would have been horrified. His dislike of nobility had always been a source of mirth for her parents, but she had never understood it. Never understood so much of him, and now she would never have that chance.

Dodo swallowed again. What on earth did an earl want with her knowledge? The man obviously had money to burn. A place like this would cost a fortune to run.

But there was nothing else for it.

The large, brass knocker made a satisfying noise, and when it was opened, a younger footman who stepped back, revealing the severe expression of an elderly man wearing a dark-green livery.

"Deliveries," he intoned, "are made around the back."

Dodo bristled. She actually felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. "I am not here to make a delivery."

"Charitable requests," the butler said in the same dull tone, "are made around the back."

"But I—"

"Maids seeking working are to seek work around—"

"Around the back," she said darkly. "But—"

He went to shut the door, but Dodo had the presence of mind to stick her foot in the gap. It hurt like hell, but it meant she could continue to glare at the servant.

"I am not here on behalf of a charitable request, nor am I a maid seeking work," she said stiffly, though she was painfully aware no other lady her age of the genteel class would have shown at the door without a chaperone. "I am Miss Doris Loughty, and I have an appointment. The Earl of Lindow wants me. Is expecting me!"

Heat poured through her cheeks at the idiotic words that had escaped through her lips.

The corpulent butler raised a bushy eyebrow. "My word. Miss Loughty, yes. You had better come in."

Stepping into the Earl of Lindow's world was far more overwhelming than Dodo had predicted. Oh, she had seen wealth. She had once been invited to a Christmas ball at the home of a viscount.

A very poor viscount. But his father, an earl, had been rich.

Nothing she had seen before compared to this. The sweeping staircase in the hallway was matched only by the sweeping ceiling above her. Dodo turned on her heels, attempting to take it all in. It was the golden mean, of course, the perfect balance between height and depth, giving a pleasing sense to the eye—

"This way, miss," said the butler quietly.

Dodo tripped along in the wake of the servant, trying not to stare at the great urns on plinths, marble statues of Greek and Roman gods, and the plethora of china about the place.

What could a man who lived here want with a few shillings?

When she was shown into a room, Dodo saw immediately that it must have been a smoking room. It was comparatively small, perhaps half the size of the hall, and set out in dark leather and wood tones.

It was also covered in gold.

A gold clock on the mantlepiece, a gold candelabra hanging from the ceiling, gold-gilt frames…

Before she could take in any more of the splendor, footfalls echoed on the marble floor behind her. Dodo spun around.

There he stood.

"Ready to lose?" asked the Earl of Lindow with a grin.

It wasn't her fault her stomach lurched so wildly. It wasn't her fault, either, that her whole body warmed a few degrees merely at the sight of him. It was her fault, Dodo would have to admit, that she allowed a coquettish smile to spread across her lips as she said words she had never even countenanced before.

"Ready to learn?" she countered.

Her cheeks pinked immediately—as she should had known they would. She was also suddenly painfully aware she was in a man's home without a chaperone—and that he'd yet to ask why she'd failed to ever produce one. One whisper from him in the wrong ear and her reputation as a lady would be… In any case. Her reputation was less important than her family's current need.

What do I think I'm doing, flirting with this man?

Flirting with any man would have been bad enough, but this was a gentleman. A gentleman who had managed to extort an agreement from her that Dodo was certain she would regret in time.

Worse. He was an earl.

It was hard to believe she was doing this. Though Dodo had considered sending a short, polite-but-curt note to the earl's residence early that morning, she hadn't been able to.

They'd shaken hands.

Once an agreement like that had been made, it was difficult to escape. Even if she'd wanted to.

Which she didn't. Obviously.

The Earl of Lindow was grinning. "My, you look pleasant when you flush."

Which of course made her flush all the more. Damn these cheeks!

Dodo cleared her throat noisily, as though that would force the burning sensation to dissipate. "Right, well, let's get started. I haven't got all day."

"A hectic schedule of cheating men out of their money on the cards for you, is there?" quipped Lord Lindow as he stepped into the room.

It took all her effort not to step back. "N-No. No, definitely not!"

But it appeared the man was not serious. In fact, Dodo could not recall him being serious, except when accusing her of cheating. What rot!

"I thought I'd provide a table for our lesson." The earl gestured to the corner of the room.

Dodo followed his arm and nodded appreciatively. Yes, that was convenient. The small card table was large enough for two to play, with a pair of what appeared to be Chippendale chairs beside it.

Her nod became a slight frown. Someone had been a mite foolish. Instead of placing the chairs on opposite sides of the table, someone had placed the second at right angles to the first.

Well, that would never do. Heavens, they would be so close together, their knees would be touching!

The very thought …

"Almost a perfect setup," Dodo said quietly, stepping over the table.

The wood was warm under her hand, the carving exquisite, but as she moved to pull it out from under the card table so she could drag it around the table, a hand closed over hers.

"No, Miss Loughty," came a quiet voice that somehow thrummed through her entire body. "I think not."

Dodo dropped the chair as though she had been burned. Her fingers certainly that way.

It was inexplicable, this power—no, this attempt at power that the Earl of Lindow had over her. Any other man would have been glared at and realized his actions were far beyond what was expected from a gentleman.

Any other man would have refused to let her meet him at his home without a chaperone present.

But as Dodo turned to protest, her voice faltered. The Earl of Lindow was so close to her, mere inches away, and his heady presence somehow halted her tongue.

It was most infuriating!

And pleasurable.

Yes, and—

No! Dodo forced the thought away as best she could, but for some reason, it had managed to lodge itself into her mind, repeating over and over again as she looked up into the stormy eyes of the Earl of Lindow.

Pleasurable? She certainly wasn't here for anything like … like that.

"I need to move the chair—"

"And I need to stop you," said Lord Lindow pleasantly. "I am sure you can understand, Miss Loughty, that if I am truly to learn from you—if, indeed, you have not been cheating—then I need to be close. Close to you. To see the cards."

Dodo swallowed. The worst of it was, she could almost see his point. If she had been forced to teach a lady, that was precisely what she would have done. Placed the chairs close by and instructed the woman to pay careful attention to her teacher's hands.

The thought of the Earl of Lindow paying close attention to her hands…

The warmth was expected—she knew that about herself now. What Dodo had not expected was the liquid fire that surged through her body and settled between her thighs. A hot, hungry sort of fire that burned so brightly, it needed more fuel to keep burning.

And it wanted more. She wanted more.

Dodo took a hasty step back. If that was what she felt merely thinking about Lord Lindow sitting so close to her, she certainly could not permit—

"You did agree to teach me," the gentleman who was having such an effect on her pointed out, sitting and leaning back, his long legs poking out the other side of the card table. "Are you about to renege on that agreement?"

It was a tempting thought.

But not for long. Dodo could not go to London. The Loughty name was better known there, Ellis having spent time there. No one could know the ruin that had befallen them, the lengths she was prepared to go to earn money.

Not that far. At least not yet.

And the Earl of Lindow had been as bad as his word. He had made it almost impossible for her to win a single penny in Bath, and she was uncertain if she could find such cheap lodgings in somewhere like Brighton or York.

She needed to be where the ton was. That limited her options. And thanks to Lord Lindow, her income ability had also been limited.

Just a few lessons , Dodo told herself silently as she slowly lowered herself into the chair at right angles to her—for want of a better word—student.

One lesson. Maybe one more. That was all. Then she could go back to the gaming hells and elegant card parties of the ton and attempt to earn at least a pound a week. In peace.

She reached out for the deck of cards.

"Let me," said the earl softly, reaching out in turn.

Dodo did not have time to pull back and her arm brushed up against his sleeve.

It should not have had any impact. Lord knew, she brushed up against enough people in the packed streets of Bath without giving it another thought.

But those faceless strangers were not this handsome earl who appeared determined to… to ruin her .

There. Dodo let out a long breath as she finally accepted the thought that she had pushed aside for so long.

She was no fool. Oh, technically, she was an innocent, but she knew enough about the theory to guess at what the Earl of Lindow really wanted.

"Card lessons"? No, he wished for something far more intimate, something she could not, would not give him. He thought to take advantage of her in the absence of a chaperone—that had to be why he'd never questioned her lack of one. But as long as she keep their focus on the cards, Dodo told herself resolutely, then there was absolutely no possibility of that happening.

None whatsoever.

The Earl of Lindow dropped the deck of cards in her hands. "There you go, Miss Loughty."

Dodo cleared her throat. What she needed was some inane, dull conversation. That wouldn't be hard, would it? Gentlemen loved hearing their possessions being praised—that was an easy topic. It would perhaps be foolish to start on the earl's person, so—

"What an interesting painting," she said in as monotonous a voice as she could.

Lord Lindow glanced over his shoulder, giving her momentary relief from his intense gaze. "What? Oh, yes. Scandal of Lancelot. It's mine, you know."

Dodo nodded as she started dealing out the cards. All of them, to start with. Demonstrate the complexity of suits, the probability of colors—

"I mean the horse itself, not the painting," clarified her companion. "I race them. Bet on them too, though not with much luck at the moment, I'm afraid. It's a shame Scandal of Lancelot isn't doing too well. My jockey tells me the beast has a weak left flank, though I don't believe it."

She nodded again as she turned the final card. There. The whole deck was visible now on the elegant card table. It really was beautiful. The green baize—

Then something nudged at her mind.

"Left flank, did you say?" Dodo said suddenly.

Lord Lindow nodded. "It's a real shame, but I'm determined to improve it. Such things can be done, of course. The left flank won't be a weakness for long."

Dodo nodded as she filed that information away for later. One never knew. It could be useful.

"So," she said aloud. "Cards."

"Cards?" asked Lord Lindow, blinking.

She almost laughed. "Yes, cards. You… You wanted me to teach you."

"I did want you to teach me," the earl said softly, placing his hands on the green baize of the card table. Far too close to her own. "Then, perhaps, I could teach you ."

Try as she might, Dodo could not control her rushing blood, nor prevent her cheeks from darkening with color. She could, however, control her tongue. "I doubt there is anything you could teach me that would interest me, my lord."

The man's jaw dropped.

"Looking at the cards, then," Dodo said hastily, taking advantage of his sudden silence. "With fifty-two cards in the deck, two colors and four suits, there is around a two percent chance of any specific card coming up. When you break that down to color probability, that is one in four, which can also be expressed as—"

The earl interrupted, screwing up his nose. "That sounds like mathematics."

A flare of irritation settled in Dodo's chest. Naturally, it sounded like mathematics. It was mathematics—did the fool truly have no idea what he was talking about?

"Yes, well done," she said, attempting to keep the sarcasm from her tone. "So, when it comes to the game of poker, there are eight variables immediately reduced. The five cards on the table, and the three in your hand—at least if playing by the—"

"Aren't you going to teach me how you did it?"

Dodo's jaw tightened. When she spoke, it was through gritted teeth. "I am showing you."

Was the man truly that doltish? Or did he have … another agenda?

She was no complete fool. It had been bold of her to come to the Earl of Lindow's home without a chaperone, to be in this city at all on her own. If her mother had been well enough to leave Croscombe, perhaps she could have come with her instead of Dodo lying to her about visiting an aunt, and Dodo could have snuck away on her own only in the evenings to gamble. Though if her mother had been well enough to leave Croscombe, Dodo would not have been in Bath in the first place.

As it was, so long as no one else discovered she was here, she was almost certain the Earl of Lindow would not actually ruin her. Not that it mattered—she was hardly going to make a match now, with her family fortune's so dire. The trouble was, with each passing moment she sat with him, she was becoming less certain about that fact.

She would estimate at least a one-in-three possibility that the man would attempt to kiss her before she left the room.

The concern was that… Well. That she wouldn't care.

Lord Lindow leaned closer. "I just want to know how you won."

"I'm showing you," Dodo said stubbornly. "The mathematics are crucial to understand before—"

"No, you're going to have to show me through practice, not this numbers and counting rubbish," said the man, waving an airy hand.

Though she perhaps should not have said it, Dodo could not help herself. "Tell me, how much, precisely, have you lost at the races?"

He jerked his head back and his startled expression told her everything. "Why does that concern us now?"

Dodo had enjoyed the races at York, which she had visited once while truly spending some time with her unmarried aunt. Oh, the horses themselves could be taken or left, but the mathematics were fascinating. Every tiny detail changing the odds, somethings five or six times in a minute. The calculations being made in the minds of the bookkeepers, faster than she had ever done herself.

At that time, of course. She'd improved since then.

"The theory of mathematics is crucial to poker," Dodo said, avoiding his question. "And horseracing. They are much the same."

Lord Lindow snorted. "Nonsense."

"You think it nonsense? How did I beat you, then?"

Perhaps she should not have been so confrontational, but it was irritating beyond belief, having this man sit there and tell her she had merely lucked her way into wins. Or cheated.

The very idea!

"I don't know, not yet," said the earl slowly. "But I have never encountered a situation in which the theory was more important than the practice."

Dodo leaned forward, unable to help herself. "That's nonsense! The numbers prove the mathematics, the probability of which card is likely to come up next—it's absolutely vital! Without the theory—"

"Theory?" murmured Lord Lindow, a spark of something wild in his eyes. "Theory is knowing what is written in a book, that is all. But you can't go through life with mere theory. You've got to—got to know life. Feel it. Experience it."

Dodo swallowed.

Though it was a technical impossibility, she was almost certain the walls of the smoking room had started to creep inward. It certainly felt like a much smaller space, and that could not have anything do with the fact that George Chance—the Earl of Lindow—was somehow closer.

How could he be that close? And how could the mere difference between twelve inches apart and three inches apart have such a specific effect on her?

Exponential.

Warming her. Making that liquid fire that had flared between her legs flicker back into existence.

Dodo wetted her lips before she replied and heard a strange sort of noise. A noise that could not have come from the earl. Almost… a groan.

She wetted them again. There it was again. Most odd . "You are wrong."

"‘Wrong'?" His voice was nothing more than a growl now, and its timbre resonated along Dodo's spine. "Well, let me show you."

And before she could do anything to stop him, the Earl of Lindow was kissing her.

"Kissing" was an inadequate word. If Dodo were to guess, he was putting at least fifty percent more pressure on her lips that was strictly necessary, and there was a swiftness of his movement and a dark need in his breathing that was at least a third more than required.

It didn't matter. The numbers poured from her mind, leaving nothing more but the excitement of his passion, and Dodo clung to him. How her hands had reached his shoulders, she did not know. She did not need to know.

Because the Earl of Lindow was in control. His ardor tilted her head and when Dodo gasped, he took advantage of the sudden gap and teased his tongue along the slit of her lips.

Dodo could not help it. Her instincts told him that she wanted more, and her tongue reached out to shyly touch his own.

The sudden guttural groan from Lord Lindow told her in no uncertain terms that it was one-hundred-percent effective.

As his tongue teased into her mouth and started to plumb its depths, Dodo shivered with the intensity sweeping through her body. Oh, she'd never known sensations like this. That a man, an idiot like the Earl of Lindow, could have such an effect on her!

It was maddening. It was—improbable, certainly. Less than a one-in-four chance? Perhaps less.

The exact numbers would have to be worked out later, when her whole body wasn't quivering, and her hands weren't tangled in his hair, and—

The kiss ended as swiftly as it had begun.

Dodo was panting, the room spinning. George—she could hardly think of him as Lord Lindow after such an encounter, though she knew she ought to—appeared to be equally breathless.

When he spoke, it was in a growl. "There. I would bet you a great sum of money, Miss Loughty, that the practical is far better than the theory."

Though unsure if her legs would collapse underneath her, Dodo managed to stand. The cards on the table cascaded onto the floor, scattering hearts as they went.

I can't stay here. Not after—

"I have never," Dodo said quietly, in as calm and as measured a voice as she could manage, "never been so insulted."

And though Lord Lindow should have been chastised, should have flushed, should have immediately apologized for the liberty he had taken…

He did no such thing. In fact a slow, wicked smile crept across the man's face, making him even more handsome—if possible—than he had been before. And it simply should not have been possible.

"Really?" he said lightly. "And do you feel insulted?"

The sensation of his lips still burned on Dodo's own, but she could not lie. She could not admit that the kiss, swift as it had been, harsh as it had been, potent as it had been, was the most intense and delightful experience of her entire life.

"I-I—"

The door opened and Dodo spun around, somehow certain that whoever it was would be able to tell what had occurred, just by looking at her.

The butler who had shown her into the place raised a prominent eyebrow, but said only, "Your brother is here, my lord."

There was an emphatic groan behind her. "Tell him to go to the devil!"

"I have already communicated to the marquess that you are busy, my lord," said the butler without turning a hair. "I am afraid he is quite insistent. Something about news."

Dodo hurriedly stepped forward. "I will go. There's no need for me to—"

"There is every need for you to stay," said Lord Lindow calmly, but with a certainty deep within his voice that made her halt.

How did he do that? Have that effect on her?

She flushed as she met his eyes.

"You stay here," the earl said steadily. "I'll speak with my brother, then we will return to my lesson."

Try as she might, Dodo could not bring herself to disagree. Leaving this man's presence… it was a punishment all of its own. She did not want to leave him. And she could not understand why.

Still. He can't have it all his own way.

"Fine. I will remain here and wait for you to return," Dodo said, holding her head high. "Then we shall get back to the theory. Of cards."

She would absolutely stick to that.