Free A Beginner's Guide to Rakes by Suzanne Enoch

to abandon civility already, then?”
    “Yes. It clearly serves no purpose with you.”
    Oliver stopped. In the middle of the Dashton ballroom, in the middle of a waltz. Lady Hubert and her escort nearly crashed into them, and Diane shifted a step to avoid the couple. For a heartbeat she noted that a few years ago such a move would have embarrassed—mortified—her, while now she was only concerned with how to turn the incident to her further advantage.
    Offering him a soft smile, she kissed her palm and then placed her hand over his mouth. “You do say the most interesting things, Lord Haybury,” she commented, then whirled away through the tumble of disorientated dancers. Somehow Jenny met her at the edge of the floor and fell in silently beside her. “We’re leaving,” Diane murmured at her companion, keeping the faintly amused expression on her face. “Get us a hack.”
    With a slight nod, Jenny vanished again. As soon as Diane passed out of the ballroom and through one of the hallway doors, she slowed, then ducked into the first empty room she glimpsed. That … man. That arrogant, awful man.
    He’d tried to embarrass her. Tried to gain ground in what was already turning out to be quite the chess game. And the most annoying part of it all was that until she’d threatened him with blackmail she hadn’t done anything wrong. Not where Oliver Warren was concerned, anyway. He’d found her in Vienna. He’d seduced her—though she’d certainly been a willing enough participant. He’d fled without a word. And now he, what, threw a tantrum because she wanted things her way?
    She needed to make it perfectly clear that this was business and nothing more. Private personal feelings of wounded pride, animosity, revenge—well, they would both simply have to put such things aside.
    And just to be safe she would ask Juliet’s former employer if he could equip her with a less visible pistol or two. She didn’t want to have to come up with a third plan to see The Tantalus opened, but she would do so if necessary. Lord Haybury needed to realize that what he wanted and what he thought didn’t matter. And the sooner he did realize that, the better for both of them.
    “I thought I saw you come in here.”
    The hard responding thump in her chest eased immediately. Oliver did not have a high-pitched voice or a Cornwall accent that even the very finest finishing school hadn’t quite been able to erase. “Lady Dashton,” she said, turning around. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw the Gainsborough painting as I passed down the hallway, and I had to stop and admire it.”
    The viscountess’s gaze shifted to the large family portrait hanging above the mantel. “It is fine, isn’t it? Of course my sons are much older now, as are Stuart and I, I’m afraid.”
    “It’s lovely,” Diane commented, without looking at it again. Lady Dashton’s fists were clenched; hardly what Diane would generally expect to see from a hostess chatting with an admiring guest. “And you all look very happy. I’ve never understood why so many painters settle such dour glares on their subjects.”
    “My husband is quite interested to learn more about your … club,” the viscountess said abruptly, ignoring Diane’s conversation.
    “He won’t have long to wait, then. I mean to open the doors of The Tantalus within a month.”
    “You know, Harriette Wilson became famous because of her impropriety with some quite distinguished gentlemen. But she’s still never been invited to a proper Society event, and we still call her a whore.”
    Now Diane knew what the conversation was about. She clucked her tongue. “Such language, Lady Dashton. And yes, you’re utterly correct about Harriette Wilson. But in her favor, she’s never claimed to be anything but what she is.” Curving her lips, Diane took a half step forward. “Allow me the same credit. Some of the gentlemen’s clubs in Vienna and elsewhere on the Continent were magnificent. I am