What the hell had happened to him? He was an earl. And that title demanded certain responsibilities, which he promptly ignored every time he was with the delectable Isabella.Daniel sat at a table in a darkened corner of White’s hoping no one would see him. He wanted to be alone with his decanter of claret and his thoughts before he had to go to the first party of the evening.He’d come to the club hoping to ponder what he’d learned from Throckmorten’s journal, but he’d spent more time thinking about Isabella than about the dead man’s gambling habits.There had been no surprise when he’d found his cousin’s name in the book. Bradford was probably in everyone’s gambling book, including the establishment where Daniel was sitting.He downed the rest of the claret in his glass and poured himself another drink. There were names he’d found in Throckmorten’s journal that he hadn’t expected, like Thomas Wright’s. Although Tom didn’t owe the man a large amount, he was still indebted to him.It was a bit of a surprise to see Lord Gleningwold’s name in there, too, considering Throckmorten was killed in his garden.
