Free Lord Heartless by Tessa Berkley Page A

heel, Landon made for the door. He could find solace elsewhere. A game of cards always brought a willing body. Exiting the room, he slammed the door and the walls trembled.

 
     
     
Chapter Seven
     
     
    Landon lifted the chips to his right and pondered his wager. He’d come to the club hoping to lose the anger but tonight the cards seemed to be against him. He let the markers fall from his fingertips, and they clicked as they hit the table. The gambling house, which lay a stone’s throw from the theater district, boasted the brightest company. Yet, tonight it all seemed dull. Even the conversations of the men at his own table seemed trivial.
    He wished to be someplace else. Someplace familiar, where a soft, warm body lay wrapped in satin. Her body hidden by homely cotton and those silken blond curls flowing across a pillowcase. Hurt twisted in his chest. Gathering a handful of colored chips, he tossed them onto the pile. “I’ll wager another twenty pounds.”
    “Too rich for my blood.” The man to his right set his cards upon the table.
    “You’re mind is elsewhere tonight, Lord Montague?” the man directly across from him asked as his fingers fanned the cards he held.
    “Yes, Scarborough.” He sighed tiredly. “I have matters on my mind.” Landon picked his cards back up and stared at them. Of all the men to be gambling with . Landon’s jaw twitched at the irony of the situation.
    “Hm,” Lord Scarborough mused. “I must say, after the announcement, I find it surprising you are here at all.”
    “Announcement?” The peer to his left spoke up and lifted his glance to Landon. “Lord Montague, is there something you’ve not told us?”
    Landon gave Scarborough a dark glance. “No, nothing.”
    “Really, Montague, you can’t keep it a secret for long.” Scarborough’s cheek twitched. “Have you not heard, sir? Lord Montague sits across from you a married man.”
    “Be quiet, Scarborough.”
    “Marriage? You?” Lord Crawford’s eyes widened.
    Landon had no choice but to agree. “It appears so.”
    “Why man, are you here? If the matter was left to me, I would be beneath the sheets exploring Venus’s prize.”
    A chorus of rough laughter followed and Landon found his sensibilities shaken by the rowdy remarks. “What goes on behind the doors at Broadmoor is not up for discussion.”
    “Forgive me,” Lord Crawford replied.
    Suddenly the game seemed less than worthwhile. Landon tossed his cards upon the table and rose. “I am done. Send my portion of the pot to the church.”
    “Would it sweeten the deal for you to stay if the stakes were higher?” Scarborough asked.
    Landon shifted his gaze across the table.
    Scarborough’s face darkened. “Shall we wager a night in cupid’s arms? Surely if you are not interested in completing the deed….” He shrugged.
    Landon’s hand came down flat upon the table, rattling the chips and drawing the eyes of all in the room. “Sir, you have gone too far. Take heed of your tongue that you do not find it cut from your mouth to wither upon the floor.”
    Scarborough’s chest expanded and slowly he rose from his chair.
    “Gentlemen,” Crawford called. “Let us not say things in haste that can not be rescinded.”
    “Lord Montague, is something amiss?” A voice near to his right drew Landon’s eyes away from his adversary. Tall, broad-shouldered, his hair still the color of ginger, the Duke of Norfolk did not appear near the sixty years he had lived.
    “No, nothing of importance, sir.” Landon watched Scarborough’s lips lift in victory.
    “Ah, good. I hope these men won’t mind if I borrow you for a discussion?” The duke glanced the direction of the men at the table.
    “No, your lordship.” Crawford tipped his head.
    “Scarborough?” the duke asked, raising his brow.
    “None.”
    “Lord Montague.” The duke gestured to the other room.
    Landon gave Scarborough one last dark glance before moving away.
    “Oh, Scarborough, you might