He put them on the dresser then debated whether or not he should change. No. It’d be unnecessary. When he’d dressed that morning, he’d had his trip to White’s in mind. Gripping the rolled-up parchment, he turned to leave his bedchamber when the door opened and Regan walked in.

  He frowned. “I hope you won’t make it a habit of coming into my bedchamber.”

  She rose her eyebrows in mock innocence as she clasped her hands together, an action which made her breasts press nicely together. “You didn’t seem to mind what happened after I came in last night.”

  His gaze went to her cleavage, and a surge of warmth flooded his loins. Irritated, he forced his gaze back to her face. “I just remembered I have something very important to discuss with you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Your behavior downstairs this morning was inappropriate.”

  “What behavior was that?”

  He debated whether or not he should come right out and say it. She knew full well what he was referring to. She was baiting him. He could see it in her eyes.

  “Do you enjoy playing games like a child, Regan?” he asked.

  “I assure you, my dear husband, childish games were not what I had in mind.”

  He didn’t know how to respond to that. If this was a discussion about money, he’d know exactly what to say, but these sexual insinuations were new territory.

  “Malcolm,” she walked over to him, “I’m not trying to be difficult. I know that, to you, it seems like I am, but really, I’m not. I want us to get along.”

  “If that’s true, don’t do disgusting things like licking a strawberry.”

  “Did you really find it disgusting?”

  This time, he sensed her raised eyebrows stemmed from genuine surprise. “Yes, it was. I doubt the butler found it the least bit amusing.”

  “But I didn’t do it for the butler. I did it for you. I was thinking tonight we could try something different. Just think of the strawberry as your more interesting part.”

  He gasped and covered the area of his groin, though he was fully clothed. “I have no such inclination to do that.”

  Her eyes widened. “You don’t?”

  “Certainly not. I don’t know what you take me for, but I am a gentleman.”

  “The reason you’re a gentleman is why you should enjoy having a lady’s mouth on your—”

  “Enough. You don’t have to say the word.”

  “Are you telling me you don’t want me to do that?”

  Since she was being sincere in asking the question, he figured he’d answer it. “The purpose of being intimate is to have children. I don’t see how doing the thing you proposed with the strawberry is going to accomplish that.”

  “Not everything we do has to result in children.”

  “I see no reason to do something unless there’s a purpose for it.”

  “The purpose would be fun. Enjoyment. Pleasure.”

  “I find all the fun I need from making money.” Glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, he said, “I want to make sure I get to White’s by the time Warren does. He likes to get there early.”

  “Warren?” she asked as he walked around her.

  “Lord Steinbeck.” He looked back at her and smiled. “I get to refer to him by his Christian name. Not every gentleman gets that honor. I took a look at your ledger, and I can easily double what you have in two years. That’s why meetings with people of Warren’s reputation are of the utmost importance.”

  He was hoping she’d looked suitably impressed, but she only stared at him as if she hadn’t heard a single thing he’d said. Well, maybe when she realized how much he was capable of earning, she’d understand why he had much more important things to do than spend all day in a bedchamber.

  ***

  Regan was confounded. Completely and utterly confounded. Even after she made it to Danette’s, the conversation she’d shared with Malcolm in his bedchamber still had her at a loss.

  She’d thought for sure after experiencing the bliss of lovemaking that Malcolm would want to engage in it for the sole purpose of enjoyment. But he surprised her. He still thought it should only be for having children. He thought making money was far more enjoyable, and, worse than that, he would rather spend time with conceited know-it-alls like Lord Steinbeck.

  If only she could discuss this matter with Frederick. He’d know what to do. But then, if Frederick was alive, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

  She glanced at Danette who was giving Leonard a tart. It was a shame she couldn’t talk to her friend about this. Her friend had never been married. Her world was in books, and nothing she ever read was remotely interesting.

  “My father is nice,” Leonard told Danette.

  “That’s wonderful,” Danette replied. Picking up a cup of tea, she turned to Regan. “Would you like more tea?”

  Regan glanced down at the cup she was holding, which was still full. “No, I still have enough.”

  Danette nodded and settled back on the settee she and Regan were sitting on. “It’s good Mr. Jasper gets along so well with your son. It’s what you hoped for.”

  “Yes, it is.” She glanced at her son then whispered, “He needed a father.” And Frederick would have wanted it for him. In a louder voice, she added, “You can call him Malcolm.”

  “But I call him ‘father’,” Leonard said.

  “Right,” she replied.

  Danette studied her as she sipped some tea. “Is something wrong?”

  Regan tried to figure out the best way to express her concerns. She couldn’t come right out and say what was on her mind. Not only would Danette not understand, but Leonard was listening. Finally, she opted for, “Malcolm and I aren’t getting along as well as I’d hoped.”

  “You can’t be surprised,” Danette told her, her voice soft to help lessen the blow of her words. “He didn’t exactly like you.”

  “He didn’t give me a chance.”

  “But you didn’t give him a reason to. What gentleman wants to be pursued?”

  “Frederick did.”

  “Yes, but Frederick wasn’t like other gentlemen.”

  There was no arguing that statement. Regan doubted any other husband would be happy to help her write a book instructing gentlemen on how to pleasure their wives.

  “Maybe you should let Malcolm pursue you for a change,” Danette suggested.

  Lowering her voice, she said, “The only thing he wants to pursue is money. Maybe if I wore a dress made up of pounds, he’d take an interest in me.”

  Her friend giggled. “Oh, what a sight that would be.”

  Despite her sour mood, Regan chuckled. She could just see it now. He’d be running after her, trying to grab every last pound until she was naked. But knowing him, he’d run off with the money instead of taking her to bed.

  “It’s a shame you don’t have a gentleman to talk to,” Danette said. “A gentleman would best know what to tell you about Malcolm.”

  Regan considered her friend’s words as she sipped her tea. A gentleman would be the ideal source of advice. Gentlemen had a different way of looking at things than ladies did. She thought through all the gentlemen Frederick had introduced her to, and she quickly dismissed all of them. She hadn’t given them more than a polite greeting since his death. What she needed was a gentleman she knew well enough to have a private discussion with, and better yet, he had to be someone who didn’t mind talk of a personal nature.

  She gasped when Melissa’s husband came to mind. Of course! Logan had been very bold in his speech yesterday after the wedding. He might not be friends with Malcolm, but he had a good sense of humor. She couldn’t think of anyone else who might be able to help her. If she asked him for help, and he refused to do it, then at least she’d know she’d tried.

  “Danette,” she turned her attention back to her friend who was doting on Leonard, “would you watch my son for an hour? I think I know someone who might help me with Malcolm.”

  “I’ll be happy to stay with Leonard,” Danette said. “He’s a delightful lad.”

  “That’s why Father likes me,” Leonard replied, his smile wide.

  “No one could resist you. You’re nice and intelligent. Those are good qualities.”

  Regan watched Danette, thinking it was a shame her friend had been so quick to give up on marriage. Granted, she’d gone through three Seasons and had two failed engagements, but she still had time to find a husband.

  “May you find what you need,” Danette told Regan.

  “Thank you,” Regan replied, smiling at her friend. Looking at her son, she added, “Be good.”

  “I will. I’m nice and intelli-i-ge-a-ment,” her son stammered in an effort to pronounce the word ‘intelligent’.

  Regan chuckled before hurrying out of the drawing room.

  Chapter Eleven

  Warren shook his head. “They’ll never be of any use to Society.”

  Malcolm set down the plans he was modifying and followed Warren’s gaze. Lord Edon and Mr. Christopher Robinson were reading through the Tittletattle and laughing.

  “Simple minds,” Warren added. “Easily amused by gossip. Who cares who was caught doing something scandalous?”

  Malcolm swallowed. God help him if the scandalsheets ever put his wife in there. He’d never live the shame down.

  “You know what’s even worse?”

  Malcolm wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer because it just might have something to do with his wife. For all he knew, Warren heard Regan was running through London causing all sorts of gossip. That was silly. If Warren had come across something like that, he wouldn’t be talking to him right now.

  Feeling better with this piece of logic, Malcolm asked, “What?”

  “Edon keeps copies of that horrible book on how to pleasure a lady.” With a look heavenward, he sighed. “What kind of gentleman has such an item in his possession? One who lauds his many exploits, that’s who.”

  To Malcolm’s surprise, Warren got up from his chair and walked over to Edon and Robinson. Malcolm glanced around. White’s was nearly empty this time of day. Good. He didn’t relish the idea of an argument erupting while he was there. While he’d had his share of conflict with Logan, he didn’t exactly welcome such exchanges.

  “Lord Edon,” Warren greeted.

  Edon and Robinson looked up from the Tittletattle. “What is it, Steinbeck?” Edon asked.

  “You know that disgraceful book you keep handing out to the gentlemen in this reputable establishment? The one with examples of your many exploits?”

  Edon’s eyebrows furrowed. “My many exploits?”

  “Yes. The one where you recorded your romantic conquests during your days as a rake?”

  Edon’s jaw dropped. “You think I wrote the book on how to pleasure a lady?”

  “Who else would have written it?”

  “Anyone. The author is anonymous.”

  “It’s true,” Robinson said, quick to defend his friend. “Some lady who wishes to be anonymous wrote it for our benefit. It’s an excellent guide on how to be a good lover.”

  Malcolm inwardly shuddered. Like he had time to be worried about that when he had business plans to work on. Warren was right. Edon and Robinson had nothing better to do with their lives than to study such a book, which was a complete waste of time. Think of all the money they’d make if they spent more time on important things instead of lovemaking and gossip.

  “It’s a guide on how to be a lover from someone who used to be London’s most notorious rake,” Warren told Robinson in a tone one would reserve for a child.

  Robinson frowned. “I’m not a simpleton, Steinbeck. There’s no way a gentleman, even one as experienced as my friend,” he gestured to Edon, “could know all the things that are in that book. Only a lady would.”

  “He’s right,” Edon said. “Go back to your corner over there and work on your plans for world domination.”

  At that, Robinson chuckled. “Indeed. We’re already aware of how important you two are.”

  “Much more so than us simpletons,” Edon agreed and crossed his eyes, which made Robinson laugh harder.

  Malcolm wondered what was so funny. Did those two think he and Warren were under the delusion they thought more of themselves than they should?

  “You are simpletons,” Warren told them. “And worse,” he looked at Edon, “you’re too much of a coward to come out and admit the book is yours.”

  “It’s not mine. I keep getting copies to hand out at the beginning of every Season. If I knew who was sending them, I’d put a stop to it.”

  “If you find the book so repulsive, why hand them out?”

  “Because gentlemen keep asking for them.” Edon glanced at Robinson. “For someone so much better than us, he sure is slow to figure it out.”

  Warren crossed his arms. “White’s could be a respectable club if it weren’t for gentlemen like you. Do you think I like admitting I belong to the same club as you two? It’s embarrassing. The other day someone asked me for one of those retched books, and I had to tell them I would never carry something like that around.”

  “What do you have against making sure a lady is happy in bed?” Robinson asked.

  “It’s what the book stands for. That is the kind of book that is responsible for the ruin of our society.”

  “I feel sorry for your poor wife. She must cry herself to sleep.”

  Edon snickered. “He’s not married. The ladies have been spared.”

  Robinson laughed again.

  With a grunt, Warren returned to Malcolm and plopped in his chair. “If it weren’t for Edon’s money, he wouldn’t be here, and if it weren’t for Edon, Robinson wouldn’t be here. I don’t understand why so many gentlemen idolize Edon. He didn’t get his wealth through honest means. All of it was the result of his many times at the gambling halls and placing wagers.”

  Malcolm shifted in his chair and spoke so the others wouldn’t hear him. “You don’t think everyone sees us the way they do, do you? That we think too much of ourselves?”

  Warren snorted and waved his hand at Edon and Robinson. “They’re jealous, Malcolm. We are at a higher level than they are, and they know it. I mean, look at them. That is the best they’ll ever amount to. But you and I… We’re going places. Sometimes I think we should start our own gentlemen’s club and not let things like that into it. Then we’d finally have a place worthy of us.”

  “You really think it’d be possible?”

  “Anything’s possible. We’d just need to find a building and invite the most reputable gentlemen to it. I’m sure Lord Roderick and Lord Clement would welcome the reprieve. Even if they were forced into scandalous situations, they’re gentlemen of morally, upright character. I can’t fault them if they have wives who took advantage of their naivety. Sometimes it’s ladies who are the problem, not the gentlemen.”

  Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this. Perhaps he wasn’t doomed after all. If Regan did something scandalous that erupted into gossip, Warren might show him the same understanding he was showing Lord Roderick and Lord Clement.

  “It’d do no good to invite Lord Reddington,” Warren continued as he picked up his glass of brandy. “He’s friends with Lord Davenport, and Lord Davenport made that wager over a lady that was the focus of the Tittletattle for an entire month.”

  “To be fair, Lord Toplyn and the Duke of Ashbourne also created scandals that made headlines in those scandalsheets.”

  “Yes, but it was Lord Davenport who started it all. If it weren’t for him, Toplyn and Ashbourne would have won the wager, and they wouldn’t have kissed ladies to get into money.”

  “You really think Lord Davenport would have won that bet had it not been exposed?”

  “I do. Miss Giles was obviously attracted to him. If I had to guess, Lord Pennella exposed it to someone at the Tittletattle to get out of paying Lord Davenport.”

  Malcolm wasn’t so sure it happened that way, but since this all happened before he became a member of White’s, it was hard to argue with Warren.

  “Let’s not spend any more time on the reprobates of this club,” Warren said. “Tell me about your plans for making more money.”

  Happy to oblige since money was far more interesting than people, Malcolm did just that.

  ***

  Feeling rather foolish, Regan tapped her fingers along the edge of the windowpane in front of her. Maybe coming to Melissa’s townhouse was a bad idea. She could slip out of here right now. The butler had just left to get Logan. She still had time to make her escape.

  But she needed to know what she could do about Malcolm. She couldn’t be stuck in a marriage where a gentleman didn’t want to be with her. She’d never imagined a gentleman could be so wrapped up in money he’d prefer it to lovemaking. It didn’t make any sense to her. No sense at all.

  The approach she had used with Frederick wouldn’t work with Malcolm. Malcolm was a different breed of gentleman, altogether.

  But should she really involve Logan in this? Didn’t he have better things to do than help her?

  Maybe this was a bad idea. She should just leave. Leave now before she did anything to further embarrass herself. It was enough she’d come by here without an invitation.

  She headed for the doorway when footsteps came down the hallway. Her steps grew still. She’d waited too long. Now she had to stay.

  Logan appeared in the doorway and blinked when he saw her. “The butler must have made a mistake,” he told her. “He said I had a visitor, but he probably meant to get Melissa.”

  He started to leave, so she blurted out, “No, your butler was right. I did come here to see you.”

  He stopped in mid-turn then faced her, eyes wide. “What do you need with me?”

  “Advice. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Well, no. I never have trouble telling people what I think.” He glanced out in the hallway. “Are you sure you mean to speak to me? Some people say I don’t have very good advice.”