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When Lord Marcliffe walked in she tried to look everywhere but his face and instead found her gaze drifting far lower, taking the measure of him. Would she really be expected to use her mouth to pleasure a man—there? Her tongue flicked the corner of her lip. He seemed to grow before her eyes, hard and rigid. She quickly lifted her gaze to find him staring at her with a narrowed, accusatory glare.

He yanked out a chair and sat down. He glowered at her from across the table. “Aunt, don’t think for one moment that once Sloan has bedded her that he will impart any information. The only dialogue he’ll have with her is to ask her price.”

Tess lifted her teacup and found that her hand was trembling. The tea sloshed onto the snow-white linen. With a clatter, she replaced it on the saucer. “The earl thinks that all men’s minds work as his does.”

Judging by the sneer on his lips he did not find her the least bit witty. “You have no idea what you are entering into here, sweeting. You may think me a bastard, but I assure you that once you are in Sloan’s grasp, you will think only hell could be worse.”

Miss Midwinter took a ladylike sip of her tea. “’Tis true that Sloan is more than a bit perverted in his proclivities.”

A shudder ran through Tess. It did not go unnoticed by him. Very little she said or did went without his notice of late.

She found herself watching him as well, taking surreptitious peeks over her teacup. He was clad in the same coat and trousers he’d worn at dinner the night before. They were badly creased, and she wondered if he’d slept in them.

“You smell as if you’ve bathed in whiskey,” Lady Stadwell said, seemingly oblivious to the crude conversation they’d been having.

In response to his aunt’s admonishing tone, he tipped back his chair so it balanced on the back legs and snatched the decanter of liquor from the sideboard. Landing his chair on all fours, he drained the contents of his teacup into the floral centerpiece then proceeded to fill the cup to the brim.

Tess could not recall seeing him sober since the cheerless conversation in the gazebo.

Amazingly, the whiskey appeared to do nothing to diminish his appetite. He ate heaping forkfuls of egg and steak, the strong muscles of his jaw working as he continued his unrelenting scrutiny of her. But Tess found that every bite she took lodged in her throat. She felt as though she were on personal display for his amusement.

Into the tense atmosphere, Mrs. Smith ushered a guest.

“Captain Gibbs, my lady,” Mrs. Smith said.

The man swept off his hat, making his brown hair stand up in tufts. He had an engaging smile. “Lady Stadwell, a pleasure.” As his gaze circled the table, his gray eyes widened at the sight of Lydia Midwinter. Then he was staring at Tess, his handsome smile broadening.

Lord Marcliffe got to his feet to greet him. “What brings you here, Gibbs?”

“An invitation from your aunt. Damn, Cliffe, you look like—”

“Death,” Lord Marcliffe completed the sentence. “Feel it, too.” He poured himself some more whiskey and dropped back into his chair.

“Getting an early start, eh?” Captain Gibbs said.

“Never stopped.” Lord Marcliffe took a healthy swallow from the cup.

“Did you read my note?” Lady Stadwell asked as Mrs. Smith served the captain tea.

The captain took the vacant seat beside Tess and looked pointedly at her. “Yes, and I wish to volunteer my services for this endeavor.”

Lord Marcliffe started drumming the table with his fingers. “What’s this about?”

“Insurance, nephew, insurance. We are investing too much in this plan to have something go wrong. We’ve established that Sloan wants what others have. And you and Captain Gibbs have always been objects of his envy, which explains why he was so intent on winning over your mistress, Miss Sparkes. Heaven knows there is little else about the woman that could have interested him.”

Tess had to smile. A blunt tongue was what she loved most about Lady Stadwell.

“Your disdain for Miss Sparkes has never been a secret.” Lord Marcliffe’s impatience was clearly growing. His fingers picked up a faster rhythm. “Could you please focus on why Gibbs is here?”

“You must have lost a great deal of blood on that battlefield, my dear. You’ve been quite muddled of late. It is all very obvious. For the plan to work, Miss Calloway must be kept by someone Sloan considers a rival. Since you have shown so little enthusiasm for this project, Miss Midwinter and I thought to enlist Captain Gibbs.”

Tess gasped and brought the napkin to her mouth, but not before momentarily drawing everyone’s attention to her. Lord Marcliffe’s attention lingered longest. Tess wished the table was smaller or her leg was longer so she could give him a hard kick. Damn him for completely dismissing the plan. Now Lady Stadwell had brought a stranger into the deal. If Lord Marcliffe had no role in tricking Sloan then he’d have no reason to stay.

“Besides, Miss Sparkes would not be pleased,” Lydia said.

Tess had heard more than enough about the earl’s mistress. Miss Sparkes had boasted of his talents to Lydia Midwinter and Lydia, in turn, had obviously felt it her duty to pass along those intimate details to Tess.

Captain Gibbs moved closer so that the sleeve of his coat brushed Tess’s arm as he reached for the sugar bowl. “Miss Calloway, have we met before? London, perhaps? The Hampton’s party more specifically? There was a beauty in London a season ago who had just such rare coloring. An exotically plumed bird who made the other females look like drab sparrows by comparison.”

“Alas, I’ve never been to London.” The man had such an open and earnest face that it actually pained Tess to lie to him.

“Exotically plumed birds find themselves easy prey. They get eaten.” Lord Marcliffe, who was ever alert to any contradictions in her story, had managed to pick up on the least important part of the captain’s conversation. A steady diet of whiskey, Tess surmised, did not improve a man’s skills of perception.

“Have you been drinking as well, Captain? Birds and plumes, whatever are you two talking about?” Lady Stadwell asked.

“Gibbs, you don’t want to get involved in this.”

“But I assure you, I do.” Captain Gibbs bestowed another beaming smile on Tess.

Lord Marcliffe swept his cup and saucer aside and leaned menacingly across the table. “I assure you. You do not.”

Captain Gibbs still had a charming, innocent smile plastered on his face as he pulled his gaze away from Tess and glanced at his friend across the table. When he saw the look Lord Marcliffe was giving him, the smile melted into a grimace and the color in his cheeks drained.

Lord Marcliffe got up from his chair abruptly. He grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself. “I will be the man to whom she belongs.”

Relief washed over Tess.

Captain Gibbs held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was only trying to help, Marcliffe.”

“If you want to help, you can start by talking these women out of this mad idea,” Lord Marcliffe said as he lurched out of the room.