Earl of Tempest (Regency Cocky Gents #7) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,1

to be darker somehow, with smoke-filled rooms and garish décor.

Instead, everything was both refined and luxurious. A perfect design, incorporating the masculine simplicity of dark wood with tasteful art on the walls and plush tapestry-like carpet.

And if wealth had a smell, this would be it. Mahogany, expensive cologne, and cigar smoke.

“They pay for more than that,” she murmured quietly.

But she was forgetting why they’d come here in the first place. She increased her pace to catch up with Clarissa and… Ben.

With Blackheart away, the only approval she’d needed for this endeavor was from her dear aunt Emma and that had been easily obtained. Even so, she and Clarissa were going to require additional funds to help pay for operations and some of the renovations. She didn’t have time to imagine the goings-on behind the closed doors of the Wicked Earls’ Club.

“Do you really think Baxter will help? He hardly knows me.”

“Oh, but he knows me,” Clarissa all but sang. “And since I am your partner in this project, I’m confident he’ll offer up a significant donation.” She stopped behind their giant guide, who was peering inside a small opening of a particularly ornate door, and Lydia halted behind her.

“I might consider investing, Tempest. But I can’t speak for Bash or Gold. You have to know that neither is fond of you. Have you never considered trying to be the slightest bit personable?” The Earl of Baxter, a gentleman of not quite forty, known for his charm and charisma, leaned back in his plush leather chair. The two were meeting in Baxter’s corner office on the second floor of the club he managed.

Jeremy didn’t find Baxter’s comment at all amusing but brushed it off. Because he had, indeed, come to discuss procuring investors to go in on the purchase of Ludwig Bros. Shipping, and the earl hadn’t turned him down outright.

“Doesn’t matter if they like me or not, so long as the investment turns a pretty penny.” And in the end, when their estates didn’t fall into disrepair for lack of funds, they would thank him.

Even if they did consider him an ass.

“It shouldn’t matter, no, and yet it does.” Baxter leaned forward again to peruse the documentation provided.

Jeremy could practically recite each page from memory. He’d turned every stone before putting this deal together and was determined Ludwig Bros. Shipping would be in his control in a matter of days. He’d have unfettered access to everything: records of past shipments, past customers, and…

Past payments. He would clear his brother’s name once and for all.

The fact that he stood to profit significantly from the deal didn’t hurt either.

“I suppose—” A knock on the door cut Baxter off.

Without being granted permission, one of Baxter’s employees pushed the door open just enough to stick his head inside. “Your wife, here to see you, My Lord, along with another lady.”

Baxter had been married nearly a decade, which made it rather embarrassing to see his eyes light up like a lovesick fool. “Send her in, Ben.”

Jeremy glanced at his fob watch just as the door opened wide, allowing Lady Baxter, a lovely young blond woman to enter, followed by…

Oh, hell.

Even with her ebony hair tied back in an austere knot, cheeks pink from the cold and wearing clothes that had seen far better days, Lady Lydia Cockfield was more beautiful than ever.

Unresolved emotions ambushed him.

If he’d wanted to meet up with members of the Cockfield family, he’d have lingered at Galewick Manor, his country home in Sussex. Ignoring his instinct to stiffen in his chair, Jeremy remained seated. To do otherwise would imply that he cared one way or another.

The earl rose and moved around his desk, taking both of the countess’ hands in his with a welcoming smile. “Clarissa, my love, you’re a sight for sore eyes today.” For a moment, Jeremy wondered if the man was going to actually kiss his wife in front of him.

“Working hard today, Mason?” The petite lady moved closer to the club owner as Baxter’s arm slipped around her waist. In Jeremy’s present state of mind, practically nothing annoyed him more than a happily married man.

God might as well open his wounds and rub salt in them.

“I never do.” The besotted man obviously wasn’t at all annoyed with the interruption.

Feeling almost voyeuristic, Jeremy slid his gaze away from the couple to Lydia, who hovered near the door, her dark lashes fanning out beneath her eyes as she stared down at the floor.

He didn’t need to stare into her