“What about her?”
“I understand she was so outraged when you took up with another Cyprian that she caused quite a row in the middle of Hyde Park. And reportedly, you lured her away from Mr. Edmund Lisle in the first place.”
His mouth curved in a sardonic twist. “You should ascertain your facts before making accusations, sweeting.”
“What do I have wrong? Was that not Mr. Lisle you were playing Faro with when I arrived? It seemed odd when you are said to be archrivals.”
“Our dispute was overblown.”
“Granted, I don’t know all the particulars, but it hardly matters. Your mere presence here confirms that you are living up to your reputation—or should I say, living down to it? You could ruin my sister so easily.”
Traherne delayed responding while visibly calling on a reserve of patience. “I assure you, my intentions are entirely honorable.”
“That gives me little comfort,” Venetia retorted. “Even if you were to wed her, you would make her a terrible husband. You will break her heart.”
His sigh held exasperation. “I can promise you I will not.”
“You cannot help it. My friend Lydia Price learned that to her despair.”
His eyebrows narrowed at her.
“Surely you remember Miss Price?” Venetia demanded about her former classmate whose first Season had ended in disaster. “Three years ago when you spurned her love, she was sent home in disgrace and went into a decline from a broken heart.”
“Trust me, I never encouraged her. I scarcely knew her. Hers was merely a schoolgirl infatuation.”
Venetia could completely sympathize with her friend’s captivation. Traherne was dangerously, sinfully beautiful. His physical appeal combined with his enormous charisma and charm made him irresistible to women. She’d always thought him the most compelling man she had ever met, and she now had firsthand experience of his allure: His unexpected kiss earlier had knocked her silly.
“Ophelia is likely to develop the same infatuation for you,” she pointed out.
His annoyance was obvious in his expression, but he refrained from replying.
“I will ask you once more,” Venetia finally said, “will you please call off your attentions?”
“No.”
She sent him a look of sheer frustration.
“It would be ungentlemanly of me to withdraw now,” he said in explanation.
“What of it? If Ophelia truly is pursuing you, you could end her aspirations with a single word.”
Traherne shook his head. “At this stage, if I suddenly drop my attentions, it can only harm her. The ton will wonder what is wrong with her and the gossips will suspect the cause has something to do with your return to London.”
Venetia frowned, examining his rationale. “That is less of a risk than your continued pursuit.”
“I disagree. Any withdrawal will have to come from her. You should speak with your sister.”
Venetia felt her fingers clench into fists. There had to be a way to make him reconsider. Ophelia would not end his courtship on her own. Venetia had tried to meet with her to no avail, smuggling a message to her via loyal servants and then corresponding several times by letter, but Ophelia was reluctant to heed any warnings. She worried that her marital chances had been severely damaged, and was anxious and fearful that her romance with Traherne would be spoiled.
Hence, Venetia had come here seeking proof of his debauchery to show her sister, hoping to catch him in a lascivious act, as it were.
She took a deep breath, knowing that threatening to expose him was her last resort. “Ophelia will be distressed to learn you frequent a house of ill-repute.”
His brows pulled together again as he appeared to deduce her meaning. “I would imagine she knows. You said it was common knowledge.”
“But now I have proof.”
“You did not find me in any sort of compromising position.”