Page 47 of The Rogue’s Offer

“As I said, Lady Havenstock has not been spreading lies. In fact, you owe her a debt of gratitude for remaining silent about your assaulting her,” Mathias said in a soft, icy voice.

The air around him changed again as the demeanor of the men in the room expressed a growing disapproval. To Lansdale’s credit, he’d stepped away from Havenstock.

“I think Lady Havenstock has been overly dramatic in whatever she’s told you, sir.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Mathias narrowed his gaze at the man. “In fact, I happen to know that you’ve been trying to take advantage of the lady for quite some time.”

“That’s absurd,” Havenstock huffed.

“Just as it’s absurd not to believe Lady Havenstock hit you upside the head with a clock.” Mathias arched his eyebrow at the man who despite a flash of fear in his gaze snorted with laughter.

“Now you truly are indulging in fantasy, sir.”

“I don’t invest my time in fairy tales, Havenstock. I believe in facts. The lady rejected your advances with a clock to the side of your head rendering you unconscious.” Mathias nodded toward Havenstock’s head wound. “It’s also a fact I arrived moments after she’d done so, and you were being loaded into your carriage like a heavy sack of flour.”

The viscount flinched and looked around at the faces of the men watching the argument. Mathias didn’t have to see their faces to know Havenstock was being silently condemned for his behavior. The man’s throat bobbed in a clear effort to find his voice, but Mathias didn’t allow him to speak.

“I’ve also discovered several things about you Havenstock that I don’t like. You’ve abused your fiduciary control of the monies your father left Lady Havenstock.”

“That’s a lie. I’ve done everything in my power to ensure Ophelia’s investments are monitored closely and that her financial situation is sound.”

“Oh, I’m not questioning your management of her finances. I’m referring to the fact that you’ve refused to give her access to any of the funds that rightfully belong to her.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Gilchrist. Ophelia simply has to ask, and I’m happy to provide her with whatever monies she needs.”

“As long as she agrees to share your bed, correct?” Mathias said softly. Behind him, Barrows uttered an oath of disapproval, and he saw Lansdale put even more distance between him and Havenstock.

“Take care, Gilchrist,” the man snarled. “I’ll not have my good name sullied by the likes of you.”

“You seem to be forgetting who my brother is, Havenstock.”

“I know who your brother is, but you’ve no right to say things that aren’t true.”

“So, Lady Havenstock simply hit you with that porcelain clock for no reason at all.” The man’s mouth moved as he tried to respond. Mathias narrowed his gaze at him. “I’m going to say this one time only, Havenstock. Give Ophelia complete control over her finances immediately and without any conditions, or I’ll see to it you’re run out of polite society. Is that clear?”

Fury swept across Havenstock’s face, but Mathias saw the fearful resignation in the man’s eyes. The viscount didn’t answer, he simply nodded his understanding. Satisfied he’d made his case, Mathias said goodbye to the other men in the room and headed toward the door. He paused just inside the room and turned around.

“Oh, and Havenstock. If you ever go near Ophelia again, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born. I won’t kill you, but I’ll make you wish I had.”

Despite the anger on the man’s face, Havenstock still blanched. As Mathias waited, the man sharply jerked his head in understanding. Satisfied he’d made his point clear, Mathias nodded at the rest of the small party and walked back out into the hall to continue his way toward the Common Room.

Satisfaction barreled through him as he remembered how his parting words had made the color drain from Havenstock’s face. He’d have the family solicitor check into Havenstock’s finances in a few days to ensure the man returned control of Ophelia’s monies to her.

Only a few members were sitting in the Common Room, and Mathias noted the time on the grandfather clock standing near the fireplace. It wasn’t even nine o’clock, which meant the ranks of the club wouldn’t expand until much later in the evening. The moment he took a seat in a large wing-back chair, a footman was at his side.

“Good evening, Mr. Gilchrist. Would you like me to bring you something?”

“Napoleon cognac.”

“Certainly, sir.”

As the footman walked away, Mathias leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes. No sooner had he done so than Ophelia’s face filled his head. The memory of her cries of delight when he’d made love to her was enough to stir his cock to life. His eyes opened quickly as he pushed aside the memory of her silky skin against his. The footman returned with a snifter of cognac, and he accepted the glass with a nod of thanks.

He took a slow drink of the amber liquid and enjoyed the subtle hints of cinnamon and vanilla mixed with the taste of dried fruits. The expensive liquor was one of his few vices, and he savored the cognac as it danced across his tongue almost as sweetly as the taste of Ophelia’s mouth when she’d kissed him so passionately the other night.

Mathias released a grunt of disgust at the fanciful thought. Ophelia’s lips weren’t the first woman’s he’d ever tasted, and they wouldn’t be the last. A voice in the back of his head shouted a harsh denial that he immediately crushed into silence. Instead of taking a second sip of his cognac, he tossed the whole thing down his throat in one gulp.

He knew connoisseurs would view it was an insult to the richness of the brandy, but he’d lost his appetite for savoring the expensive drink. With a sharp gesture at the footman, he ordered a bottle of whiskey. When it arrived less than a minute later he poured himself more than two fingers of the Scotch into his glass. If it was the last thing he did tonight, he’d drink himself blind until every thought of Ophelia was obliterated from his memory.