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despicable Randolph. Although she had never understood the animosity between him and his father, she now believed her stepfather was very much aware of the son’s nefarious ways. ‘Twas too bad he hadn’t made the necessary changes in his will so Randolph would not end up controlling her and her dowry, which she was quite certain no longer existed.

But she’d never been the sort of person who wailed at life’s problems. Which was why she now found herself sitting in a gaming club about to take a job as a card dealer, thwarting Randolph’s intention to make her a man’s mistress.

“I think the best way to make you comfortable with vingt-et-un is to play several hands. First as a player, and then as a dealer.”

“That sounds like a perfect idea, but who will play with me?”

Driscoll cleared his throat and ran his finger around the inside of his stiff collar, looking a bit uncomfortable as if she had said something inappropriate. “I will find a few employees to help you, but unfortunately the club opens in a short while, so I suggest you have something to eat, and we will work on your training tomorrow.”

Her shoulders slumped. “What will I do for the rest of the night?” She’d already spent the day wandering the bedroom, with nothing to do and nothing to read. In desperation she had taken a nap. That little bit of sleep left her energized, so she really needed something to keep herself busy for the rest of the evening.

“Are you good with numbers?” Driscoll asked.

“Yes.” Maths had been her best subject growing up. She’d had an excellent governess who believed young ladies had a brain similar to men and could certainly learn maths and science.

“Then perhaps you can help me. We are nearing the end of the month as well as the quarter, so I need to pull a lot of numbers from various ledgers and combine them into another ledger.”

“I would love to do that.” Lord, anything except return to the bedroom and stare at the walls.

He frowned. “It can be tedious.”

She shook her head. “That’s fine. I’ve worked on my stepfather’s books, so I know how much. . .” She stopped, realizing what she’d said. Driscoll Rose, not being a stupid man picked up right away on what she was saying. She could see the light in his eyes. “Go on.”

She shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just that I know I can be a help to you.”

He grinned and her heart did that double thump again. He pulled out a gold timepiece from the pocket of his waistcoat and checked the time. “Why don’t I escort you to the dining room and we’ll have some dinner? Then I can show you what you can do to help.”

Still attempting to recover from her faux pas, she stood and shook out her skirts. “Yes, I would like that.”

There was something about Driscoll Rose that loosened her tongue. He was so easy to talk to, and she had a horrid feeling if they spent much time together she would blurt out her disgrace. Until she could trust him not to turn her over to her stepbrother, she would watch her words carefully.

As they made their way down the corridor from the office, Amelia asked, “Do all the staff eat in the dining room?”

Driscoll placed his hand on her lower back to direct her through the doorway to the dining room. She immediately felt flushed, warmth emanating from where his hand rested on her body. He didn’t seem to make much of it, and she was sure he was merely being a gentleman. No need to make anything of it.

“No. The maids, security guards and other employees eat in the kitchen in the basement. That is also where those who live here have their rooms.”

Dante rose from his seat when they entered the room.

She slipped into the seat Driscoll held out for her. “Then why am I not eating and sleeping downstairs, also?”

Dante smirked across the table from where she was seated. “Despite what you want us to believe, Miss Pence, we are aware of your station in life. You are not of the maid and ‘employee’ ilk.”

She raised her chin. This man was nothing like his brother. He seemed to be able to antagonize her every time he opened his mouth. “And how do you know that, Mr. Rose?”

“Dante, if you please, since we are both Mr. Rose and I don’t want you to mix us up. However informal we are in the club, though, we do revert to ‘Mister’ and now ‘Miss’ on the game room floor.” He motioned to the maid standing near the sideboard to serve.

In answer to her question, he added, “’Tis quite obvious that everything about you tells us you are a lady, born and bred. The way you hold yourself, your gait, your manners, your way of speaking.”

She thought about that while the maid began to serve them a fine dinner of baked whitefish in a wine sauce, slices of beef, roasted carrots and turnips, and boiled potatoes with pieces of leek.

A man dressed in formal attire poured them wine. Although her time in London had never been spent at fancy ton events, there was no doubt that the Rose brothers had been also born and bred as gentlemen. This array of food would most likely be served at any ton dinner party.

“Here’s to our new employee,” Dante said as he raised his glass.

She glanced sideways at Driscoll who lifted his glass slightly. “Welcome to The Rose Room.”

6

Driscoll was still reeling from how Miss Pence had affected him when she’d walked into his office in that gown. After he made the offer to her for a position as a dealer, he’d sought out his brother and they both agreed that she was not from the working class. As a dealer, while seeming to be even more notorious than her working as a maid, she would retain her dignity while the mask would

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