“Not yet. I . . .” West gripped the carved wood. “I hadn’t considered that I was causing such harm to my sisters. I want to know what they’re saying about me.”

The men in the billiard room continued assassinating his character, trying to outdo themselves with the outrageousness of the rumors they’d heard about him.

“I saw this one with my own eyes, gents,” a man said loudly. “He picked a fight last night with the barkeep at The Devil’s Staircase and had a bottle of gin broken over his head, and his ribs kicked in when he went down. Shouldn’t wonder if he’s lying in an alley right now, reeking of gin, with several broken ribs.”

“Now that one’s true as gospel,” Rafe said.

West caught his friend’s eye. “Rafe. Tell me truly. Have I ruined my sisters by association?”

“Well, you certainly haven’t helped their reputations.”

“I thought . . . I thought that they were irreproachable. They’re such bright, lively, intelligent young ladies.”

“Like brother, like sisters,” Laxton drawled loudly. “That’s all I can say on the subject, gents.”

“What do you mean?” a man asked eagerly, scenting more gossip. “Do you know something salacious about the Delamar sisters?”

Laxton snorted. “The things I could tell you about Lady Blanche . . .”

“Tell us!”

“Come, Laxton, it’s only us gents here. Spill your guts.”

“Well, I shouldn’t spread rumors,” Laxton began, with a poor show of reluctance. “Lady Blanche might act proper and untouchable but when she gets you alone in a secluded alcove . . . she’s as debauched and debased as her brother. I tell you I barely escaped with my trousers intact.”

Several guffaws from the men.

“Are you saying she attacked you?” someone asked.

“I’m saying that her frosty facade hides a wanton. She’s cut from the same wicked cloth as her brother and will make no man a respectable wife. The best she can hope for is spinster . . . or courtesan.”

“The devil!” West launched toward the doorway, fists raised, only to be caught around the neck by Rafe’s elbow.

“Steady on, old friend,” Rafe said in a low voice.

“Did you hear what he said?” West asked hotly. “I have to kill him.”

“He’s obviously lying.”

“Of course he’s lying, trying to puff himself up, but those men don’t know it.” It was a shameful double standard, but it was the way of the world. Men could and indeed were expected to indulge in carnal, animalistic pursuits while a young lady must remain pure as the driven snow and unimpeachably virtuous. Even a hint of scandal could ruin his sister forever. “I’m going to make him retract it. Let me go!” He tried to twist away but Rafe applied enough pressure to his throat to make him cough. “Release me so I can murder Laxton,” he croaked.

“I don’t want you to do anything rash.”

“He’s shaming my sister.”