To Con a Gentleman (Dalton Family 1)

Carver turned his head to look at his brother-in-law. “Moody? Careful, Robert. It’s been too long since I’ve visited Jackson’s. My body is aching for a good fight.”

Robert chuckled and sat back. “Well, you won’t find one in me. You’d level me down before I had time to blink, and I’m not too proud to admit it. Now talk. And preferably while you’re seated. You’re making me dizzy pacing circles around the room like that.” When had he started pacing?

He stopped, one hand on his waist and the other in his hair. So much for the polished style Brandon had arranged earlier. “If I tell you what’s bothering me will you go away?” He said, annoyance burning through his tone.

“Very likely. Let’s try.”

Carver wanted to scowl, but instead he smiled. Is this what Daphney meant in the carriage when she said that he had forced her to smile? He sobered again at the thought of Daphney, the source of his dark mood. He moved to the chair by Robert and flopped down. “It’s Daphney,” he said tilting his head back to rest against the leather.

“That much went without saying. What has the elusive Miss Bellows done now?” She had begun to slip into his heart, that’s what.

He was such a fool for bringing Daphney to his house. What was supposed to be a diversionary prank had turned out to be far more involved and taken more of him than he had been prepared to give. He had dreaded coming home because he had not wanted to confront the painful memories of Claire that lurked within its walls, memories that would torment his thoughts and dreams.

And with Daphney there, everything was worse. Now, he was not only faced with the thought of what could have been with Claire, but his mind obsessed over thoughts of a certain brown haired thief with ridiculously beautiful eyes and the ferocity of a lion. And she made him laugh…fully laugh, something he hadn’t done in years.

Honestly, he thought he had healed and put Claire behind him, or at least had learned to become content without her in his life. But after spending time with Daphney, he was all too aware that he hadn’t been content at all—but lonely. With Daphney, that loneliness was disappearing.

You are an idiot.

He was pining away for two women, neither of whom could he ever have. One was gone. And the other had made it astoundingly clear that he was not to fall for her. Unfortunately, she was making it blasted difficult not to.

“She broke her own rules and told me more about herself,” said Carver. But it was unfair of him to say, and he knew it. It hadn’t been her idea to tell him about the scar. He had pushed her, wouldn’t let her go until she had told him. It wasn’t her fault that hearing those stories had made his chest tighten and had filled him with a desire to draw her into his arms and keep her there.

She had been right to not tell him anything about her life. That made it fairly easy to keep their business-like arrangement in check. But the moment she had let him in to her confidence, the last bit of his will had died and buried itself and he could no longer keep his feelings at bay. Could no longer avoid the realization that he had fallen for her. Wanted to keep her safe, to make her smile, to hold her, to make her laugh.

And all of that made him feel like a traitor to Claire’s memory and the love they’d had.

He groaned, exhausted of his own thoughts, and rubbed both of his hands over his face.

“I can’t pretend to understand what you mean by that since I do not know the particulars of your arrangement with Miss Bellows. But I’m assuming whatever you learned is changing your feelings toward her in some way?”

He looked at Robert from over his finger tips. “Something like that.” But then he shook his head. “Or…no. Because honestly, I’ve been attracted to her from the moment I met her. She’s fiery and hot tempered. Nothing like the insufferable ladies in London. Daphney is strong and isn’t the least bit afraid to come to points with me.” He smiled. “Literally. Do you know that she held a gun to my head the first night she was here?”

Robert grimaced as if he was not happy to learn about that but didn’t end the conversation. “Not something a gentleman would usually admit with a smile. So, what’s the problem? Is she too far beneath your touch?”

“There’s that. Not that I give a dash about social standing or what I owe to my family name…”

A smirk swept over Robert’s mouth. “A given, I think, considering the trouble you raise in London.”

Carver grinned. “My reputation’s not so bad. It’s not as if I have any lady birds warming my bed or angry brothers calling me out.”

“And you have our undying gratitude for that. But I would be easier if I knew you weren’t racing your curricle at break neck speeds after drinking all night. Or getting into fights outside of White’s over a wager. Do you know that I’ve seen your name four times this month in the betting books? And the wagers are grim. Men are starting to bet higher and higher that you will die from overturning your curricle sometime in the next six months.”

Carver laughed a mirthless laugh. “Keeping tabs on me, Hatley?”

“Unashamedly. What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t?”

He didn’t actually mind that Robert was watching him. In truth, it gave him an odd sort of comfort knowing someone was looking out for him. When he had first gone to London, his father had tried to check up on him, too. But Carver couldn’t bring himself to look his father in the eyes after Claire’s death. So eventually—after several excuses as to why he couldn’t see his father day after day—the duke stepped back and let Carver have his peace.

Robert continued, “You’ve always been rowdy, of course. But I worry that your adventurousness has turned into recklessness after—”

Carver held up his hand. “I’ll listen to your sermonizing, Robert but I don’t intend to walk down memory lane with you tonight.” He didn’t need to hear that he’d become reckless after Claire’s death. He didn’t need to hear Robert say that boxing, racing, and drinking were only his attempts to hide from the truth. He didn’t need to hear any of it because he already knew it was true. He could feel the toll it was taking on him.

Robert nodded and said, “Fair enough. I’ll say no more about it. But what about Daphney? Do you like her? It seems to me that it would be easier if you did.”

“How do you figure?”

“It would be easier to go through with the marriage than end the betrothal. You wouldn’t have to make up excuses or lies. Just marry the woman and go on with your life.”