The Fortune Hunter
Page 28
Nerissa took the chair their host held out for her, but said nothing. He knew she was waiting for him to speak or look at her again … or rise and leave. He did nothing but continue to shuffle the cards.
“What stakes are we playing for, my lord?” she asked quietly.
He ignored her formality. “As we have played for a guinea a point in the past, I would collect that—”
“I think it is time we raised the stakes. Shall we say a century a point?”
Hamilton arched a single brow at his brother, who was still making every effort to avoid his eyes. Was this Nerissa’s final insult to him? She planned to play cards with him with the money stolen from his father. He would be damned to perdition before he let her take another penny. If she was opaque enough to challenge him, she would learn the cost of his revenge personally.
He noticed how her hands trembled as she gathered up the cards he was dealing to her. In spite of himself, his gaze stroked the curve of her hueless cheek. He could too easily recall its warmth against his naked chest as she slept within his arms. When he admired the slender length of her fingers as she held her cards competently, his skin tingled with the longing to savor them against him.
Blast it! He would not be love’s singleton again. He refused to be connived into assuming her innocence was anything but the skills of a consummate actress.
In spite of himself, he gasped when, with a smile, she drew from her reticule a stack of pound notes. Hearing an echoing rumble of whispered comments whirling around them, he looked up to discover a half-dozen observers, who had been drawn to the table by the high-stakes game. She did not appear to notice as she leaned forward and set half of the pound notes in front of Philip.
“A wedding gift,” she said, her voice quivering.
“Nerissa, I could not accept such a generous gift,” Philip choked.
She looked directly at Hamilton while she said, as he had remarked to her the first night they had played cards, “If fortune smiles on us and we are successful, you may pay me back at the end of the evening.”
“But we cannot count on such good fortune! I cannot take your money.”
Quietly, she said, “Either you will take it, or Cole shall. I would as lief you had it.”
Hamilton clenched his jaw until it hurt. This woman had no honor, for she was stealing from her fellow conveyancers. Not that he should care a fig if they had a falling-out among them. Irritably, he said, “Make up your mind, Philip. The books are growing impatient.”
Philip looked from the cards to his brother’s taut scowl, then to Nerissa, whose face—for the first time since Hamilton had met her—was blank of emotion. “I am in,” he said quietly.
“Then, as suggested,” Nerissa said, “we shall play for one hundred pounds per point. Shall we begin?”
Hamilton concentrated on his game, ignoring the onlookers who grew in number with every hand. No one at the table spoke unless it was necessary. He did not have to peek at the tally Sir Delwyn was keeping to know that Nerissa and Philip were losing badly, but her only reaction was the increased shaking of her hands.
Suddenly, Nerissa placed her cards on the table. “I have enough losses for tonight, so I would be wise to give my chair to another.” She pulled another handful of pound notes from her bag and stood. “I think this shall cover my debt. Good evening, gentlemen.” She hesitated, then said more softly, “And goodbye.”
The baronet gasped as she turned to leave, “But, Miss Dufresne, you and young Philip have lost almost thirty thousand pounds between you.”
Hamilton paid no attention to the fury of whispers around them as he set himself on his feet. Pushing past the curious guests, he seized Nerissa’s arm. He whirled her to face him. He cursed when he saw tears glistening on her cheeks.
Nerissa defied her hands which ached to sweep up along his arms to clasp behind his nape. Then she would press her form to him as he teased her lips with the tantalizing flavors of his mouth.
“My lord,” she whispered, daunted by the savagery burning in his eyes, “I have paid my debt to you and Sir Delwyn. Please grant me the chance to take my leave now.”
“You may have paid your debt to Seely,” he retorted, “but you have not repaid me completely.”
Fear pierced her, as the tempestuous emotions in his eyes struck her. He had said more than once he would do anything to gain his vengeance against the man whose schemes had led to his father’s death. She was more certain than she had ever been that he meant exactly that.
In the same cold voice, he said, “We can discuss your debts to me in the book room.”
A flame scorched her cheeks as she saw the smiling glances aimed in their direction. His words, coupled with the rumors that Annis had warned her were on the lips of everyone in Bath, suggested that the squaring of the debts between Lord Windham and Miss Dufresne would be settled in a most intimate way. Taking her hand, he turned her toward the stairs beyond the ballroom.
When his fingers touched hers, she forgot everyone else in the room. The fire that had been searing her face surged through her. Again she fought the longing to feel him closer as she walked with him down the stairs and toward the study. He closed the door behind them. She flinched when she heard him latch it, for she knew he intended to keep her from fleeing from this discussion.
“Why?” he asked without preamble. “Or do you wish me to believe it is simply coincidence that you have lost nearly thirty thousand pounds?”
“My stepbrother stole your money. I wished to return it to you.”
“Only half. Seely was my partner tonight, so he gets half.”
Nerissa sank to a settee as she held her hand over her heart, which had abruptly forgotten how to beat. “If you were to explain—”
“Seely wins so infrequently that he treasures what he can take away from the board of green cloth.”
Drawing out her handkerchief, she wiped her damp cheeks. She would not be a watering pot, for that would gain her no sympathy from Hamilton. “Hamilton, I swear to you that I had no knowledge of Albert Pilcher’s actions before yesterday. Blockhead that I was, I thought the only one he cheated out of money was my mother.”
“So you wish me to believe you got that money tonight from Pilcher?”
“My father left my mother and me a small country estate. When I could no longer afford its upkeep—for, as I told you, Albert Pilcher stole more from my mother than he did from your father—I hired an agent to seek out a buyer. He found one, and the money I lost to you tonight was what I received after my solicitor took his share.” She grimaced as she recalled that Mr. Crimmins had considered half of the proceeds a fair amount for overseeing the arrangements.
Again she hoped he would lower the frigid wall he had raised between them. She wanted his arms enveloping her as she rested against his heart. Instead he asked, “And your stepbrother?”
“I wish to say nothing of him.”
He put his foot on the table by her and leaned forward to rest his hand on the back of the settee behind her. With his face so close to hers, he asked, “Why?”
“Hamilton, please take the money I lost, and be done with it.”
“Will your brother return the rest of my money to me?”
“No!” She surged to her feet, but his hand on her arm kept her from bolting to the door. “Hamilton, I have given you every penny I have. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“I want more.”
Slowly she faced him, still hoping to see some compassion on his features, but they were as callous as her brother’s heart. “I just told you. I have nothing else of value unless you wish to take me to London and offer me on the Marriage Mart to the highest bidder as Cole plans.”
“And Elinor, I surmise.” His terse laugh lashed her. “However, I pledge to you that they shall be unsuccessful, for you and I know the truth that you have no place among those maidens, who are seeking a husband.”
Anguish sliced into her. “Hamilton, please, let this be the end. You have
had your vengeance, although I fear you have gained it from a person who has been as wronged as you were.”
“I do not want vengeance.”
“You don’t want vengeance?” she asked, astounded.
His arm swept around her waist, and he herded her against him. As his fingers curved along her cheek, his voice deepened to a husky whisper, “I want you. I want you here with me, not being paraded before the inlaid bachelors of Town.”
She did not dare to believe what her ears told her she was hearing, but she drew away from the sweetness of his arms. “I told you that I have not changed, and I haven’t. I will not repay my stepfather’s debt to you by becoming your natural.”
“Nerissa—”
She gave him no chance to finish. “I shall find a way to repay you the rest of the money.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. No doubt, Cole and Elinor will want whatever money they can get from the sale of the house in Bath, so I cannot hope for help from them. What I had tonight was only the binder I got on my mother’s lands, but Cole is certain to see that I get no more money from the sale of Hill’s End. Mayhap—”
His sudden laugh silenced her. “Hill’s End? That’s the name of the terra firma your father left you?”
“Yes, but why …?”
With another laugh, he tapped her reticule. “It truly was my money you played with.”
“You bought Hill’s End?” She stared at him, more baffled than before. “But why? You have Windham Park. Why would you want Hill’s End?”
“I purchased it for Philip and his bride-to-be as a bribe for him not to buy that commission. Do you think Annis Ehrlich Windham will enjoy living there?”
Tears filled her eyes, but they were tears of happiness. There would be no strangers residing at Hill’s End. Instead dear friends would live there. “I doubt it,” she said honestly. “The house is drafty.”
“But it is convenient to Windham Park, so that you may call there often after we are married.”
“Married?” Happiness twisted inside her, leaving her breathless. “You want to marry me?”
Slipping his arm around her waist again, he whispered, “Never have I been able to trust my heart, and—when it urged me to listen while it spoke of you—I refused to heed it. I as lief harkened to the small voice that warned me away from any woman who might demand every part of me when I wanted to give so little. You, who offered so much when you had nothing, were irresistible.” His hand slid up her back to press her to him. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
She gave her fingers free rein to stroke his strong shoulders. “Yes, and I love you, Hamilton.”
“Then why shouldn’t we get married?” He laughed as his fingers played along her cheek. “To think that I hunted for a fortune and found you instead. The sweetest vengeance is that Albert Pilcher did not destroy us, for, through him, we have found love.”
“Is that why you wish to marry me? To get the ultimate revenge?”
With a throaty laugh, he whispered, “No, what I want is this.” His mouth covered hers, and, surrendering her lips to him, she melted into the fires of ecstasy that always would rage within her when he touched her.
Broderick Crimmins tossed the page down in disgust. He had known that Miss Nerissa Dufresne was going to be a source of trouble since the first time he saw her. He had warned Cole Pilcher to keep his stepsister far away from him, but Pilcher had not listened.
Just this morning, he had received a letter from Lord Windham’s solicitor informing him that there would be legal steps taken to recover money from Mr. Albert Pilcher’s estate because of fraud perpetrated against the present viscount’s father. Now this note!
Tapping his fingers on the page, he ignored the opening paragraph which had pleased him, for Lord Windham was withdrawing his claim against the Pilcher estate and Cole Pilcher. The rest outraged him. Even without looking at the page, he could recall the words:
As Miss Dufresne shall become my wife before the month is out, I am returning the paperwork for the completion of the sale of Hill’s End to you unsigned. There is little need for me to purchase what shall be mine when we are wed. I trust you shall return your share of the proceeds of the initial payment to my solicitor immediately.
Dashed woman!
Then he smiled as he reached for the folder with the Pilcher name on it. There was always a way of getting his money back. Opening it, he began to peruse the columns of numbers. Then he called his secretary. He wasn’t after a fortune, after all. And just yesterday, he had heard that after getting a hefty amount of money from an investor for his canal project, Cole Pilcher was planning to buckle himself to Elinor Howe and go off to a fine life in London. Before he left, Pilcher could afford to give some blunt to his solicitor … just to even things a bit.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1993 by Jo Ann Ferguson
Cover design by Neil Alexander Heacox
ISBN: 978-1-5040-0907-2
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