by Cecilia Gray
July 2, 1822
Woodbury, England
Finding Dinah was an easy task. Damon needed but to find the group of male sycophants who longed to be part of her intellectual circle. Since becoming the first woman to preside over the Mathematical Society of London, she was sought after by all manner of academics and military strategists who requested her counsel. Unfortunately for those men, his matter was more urgent.
He had his own admirers to avoid in the process. A very becoming blonde had been fluttering her eyelashes at him since his arrival. There was also the opera singer who had sent quite a number of drinks his way. Not to mention three very determined mothers who wanted him married into their families, one of whom had indicated he could also enjoy her on the side.
There was an art to declining their attentions while seeming wounded himself, leaving the rejected party feeling as though he were the one being turned away. He employed it with great skill and created a buffer between him and his predators until he found Dinah, in the salon, expounding on the latest theories of quadrantal deviation of the compass and how it affected her father’s shipping routes. Fascinating, to be sure, for another man, another time.
Not one to think Dinah would actually give him the time of day, Damon approached her husband, Graham Abernathy, who watched his wife as he sipped a generous pour of red wine in a large glass. Damon sat on the arm of his chair and leaned down to speak in his friend’s ear. “I need your wife.”
“As secure as I am in her love, a statement like that from you would strike fear in any good husband’s heart.” Graham leaned back and smiled.
“I refuse to believe you capable of jealousy. You sit here calmly while your wife entertains a half dozen men.”
“Ah, but only because seeing her outsmart them is but foreplay.” Graham’s eyes flitted to his wife, darkening with desire. “She’s remarkable.”
Damon snapped his fingers in front of Graham’s face to force him back to the matter at hand. “I can assure you my intentions are selfish and do not involve your wife, but I would appreciate it if you could convince her that the challenge I offer far exceeds the one she is currently undertaking in entertaining these fools.”
Rising from his chair, Graham threw Damon a curious look. Still, he proceeded to the group, stepped into their midst, and leaned toward Dinah. Her blond hair was short, barely covering her neck and ears, so Damon could see how close his friend drew to whisper in his wife’s ear.
Dinah’s gray gaze slid to Damon, then back to Graham, who said something else as he laid a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment while her lips curved into a smile.
For a moment he thought he’d lost her to Graham’s more romantic impulses. But she shooed her admirers out of the salon so that the only people remaining were the three of them.
“This is a private matter,” Damon said, looking to Graham.
“Even our friendship has limits,” Graham said softly. He stood behind Dinah and slipped his hands around her waist.
Damon watched the possessive display not without feeling a jealousy, a desire, low in his belly for what they shared. He had watched his friends fall one by one to the matrimonial altar, an altar he’d fashioned himself. It was not without its contemplations that they seemed happier, more satisfied, than they had before.
“Fine. If you must know—please bear in mind that I keep this brief due to the time at hand and not as a reflection of my feelings on the matter—I asked Charlotte to marry me a few moments ago, and she declined. I need your help in making her reconsider.”
Graham’s reaction was swift. His hands dropped, as did his jaw. “You must be—Our Charlotte? Dinah’s sister? But what must you—And why would you—You’re rich… and…”
“You’re coming dangerously close to insulting my future wife,” Damon said, “so I advise you to remember your own warning that even our friendship has limits.”
“I’ll be damned,” Graham said.
Graham’s reaction, while annoying, was also incidental. It was Dinah whom Damon needed, and she had been entirely silent. Instead, she studied him. Her calculating gaze swept him from head to toe several times.
“You keep me in suspense for your amusement, or your contemplation, madam?” he finally asked when her silence became unbearable.
Graham attempted to speak for her. “You can’t expect us not to be in shock. You’re… you’re Viscount Savage! There’s an entire gossip sheet devoted to your exploits. You have women at your beck and call, and you have never indicated a desire to marry. So your interest, your intentions, in regard to Charlotte are unexpected.”
“No,” Dinah said, breaking her silence, “they are not.”
Damon’s brow shot up. “You knew of my intention to ask her to marry me?”
“Why, Lord Savage.” She smiled sweetly. “What kind of ‘smartest woman in London’ would I be if I could not deduce something like that?”
Graham grinned and kissed her cheek. “As if I needed another reason to love you. Although you could have told me. A lady should not have secrets from her husband.”
“I thought we agreed you love me best when I am not ladylike.”
Damon ignored the couple in their flirtations, sidetracked by another thought.
Love. That word. The word that was keeping he and Charlotte apart. God, how he hated it right now. He should just tell her he loved her. What did he care? It was just a matter of semantics. But then, he had promised her honesty. In all his dealings with the Crown, in all his subterfuge and deceit, she remained the one true bright, shining spot wherein he had been himself, been completely honest, and he would not ruin that now.
“So you’ll help me?” he asked.
“Of course,” Dinah said. “Seeing as you’ve been secretly making matches for my sisters and me all these years, it is only fair that I return the favor.”
He swore under his breath but supposed he shouldn’t be taken aback. It was so very like Dinah. “You don’t seem surprised,” he said to Graham.
His friend shrugged. “She confided the theory to me last year. Though I cannot understand what reason you should have for such an activity. Are you really so bored?”
“Motivations, in general, are a boring matter,” Damon said dismissively. “What is interesting is how you intend to accomplish the task of convincing Charlotte to accept my suit.”
Dinah smiled serenely. “Yes, it will be quite interesting.”
On that note, she glided out of the room, leaving Graham and Damon staring after her.
“Is it too much to hope that she intends to include me in her plan?” Damon asked.
Graham sighed. “Better to spend your efforts hoping for world peace.”
By late afternoon, while some of the guests remained in the ballroom to dance, a good portion had been persuaded by the bright sun and the cool breeze to adjourn outdoors and lounge beneath the tents as they availed themselves of the picnic spread. The outdoor musicians had struck up a merry tune, and all manner of conversations could be heard while guests enjoyed the cold meats and sweet pastries.
Charlotte, unfortunately, was finding it very hard to enjoy either.
Reece Crawford had procured them a very nice spot in the shade of the tent with a view of the lake and some sweet-smelling flowers nearby; however, they were soon joined by her admirers from the ballroom, as well as an entirely new wave of gentlemen. The conversation had turned to questions about her that she was never quite able to answer, as one gentleman would assume he knew the answer already, only for another to disagree. When she felt left out of the conversation entirely, she would attempt to nibble on something, only to be asked another question.
“Tell us, Miss Belle, whom do you favor in a fair bout? Myself or Mr. Crawford?”
She couldn’t remember the name of the gentleman who had posed the question. He was a peacock sort, with excessive feathers about his coat. Was it Montrief? He stood and leaned against the pole of the tent with his arms cros
sed over his chest.
Just as she was going to say it didn’t matter, as a bout of fisticuffs between them would be pointless, the other gentlemen spoke up in her stead.
“Miss Belle is too civilized to think of such matters.”
Well, that wasn’t true.
“Miss Belle would surely select Mr. Crawford, as he is her relation by marriage, and therefore, she owes him her loyalty.”
“Miss Belle would merely need to ask the advice of her brother-in-law, Mr. Hughes, to assist her in making the selection.”
Of all the things to bother her pugilist brother-in-law about, that certainly wasn’t one of them. She chewed hard on a dry cracker and saw relief approaching in the form of Dinah. No one could disband a group of simple gentlemen faster than she, who so easily pointed out which of them were idiots that no man who wanted his ego intact ever stayed to hear it confirmed.
“Ah, Lady Abernathy approaches,” the Peacock said. “We should leave them to discuss womanly things.”
There were grunts of assent as the men got to their feet, all except Reece, who stayed by her side and shared a small, secretive smile with her. He must have heard about Dinah’s unique talents from Robert.
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief until she realized that Dinah was motioning for the gentlemen to resume their seats. “Gentlemen,” Dinah said, “please, do be seated. I have an announcement to make. A first for the Belle birthday crush, and you are all invited to participate.”
Charlotte did not begrudge the men their wary looks, but to their credit, they all settled back into their places. Some of those who had lain prone or had been seated before chose to remain standing, as if they might bolt at any moment. Perhaps it made her a tad malicious, but she often enjoyed seeing her sister put pompous men in their places. Charlotte popped another piece of ham in her mouth and savored its flavor.
She leaned close to Reece and said, “You may want to save yourself.”
“I find I’m willing to endure the embarrassment if I may only remain by your side a moment longer. If you’ll permit me the indulgence.”
Her cheeks flushed at the remark. He was being forward in his intentions, which she appreciated, but perhaps because of Damon’s sham proposal earlier in the day, she found she had no stomach for it. Whether it was his intention or not, Damon had rendered her unable to seriously consider another suitor, even as she was equally unable to consider him. It was a vexing conundrum, and one she intended to correct… tomorrow. Or the day after. It was her birthday. She was entitled to one day’s reprieve from considering her matrimonial future, was she not?
“Your silence concerns me,” he said. Even as he said it, his tone was friendly, and not angry or demanding. He was a good man. Just not for her.
Oh, what was she thinking? Didn’t she want to marry? And have a family? Of course she did. Would there ever be a man who would live up to Damon? It would be impossible. Who was she to discourage a nice man from a respectable family to whom she was already socially attached?
“My silence is but surprise,” she said, “and should be taken as no measure of discouragement.”
He grinned and turned to Dinah, waiting for her pronouncement.
“We’re just waiting for one additional person. Ah, there he is,” Dinah said, turning toward the house.
Charlotte turned, too, to see Damon walking toward them. He was so very easy to watch. He moved deftly and with speed while somehow affecting the casual air of a stroll. His breeches were tucked into black boots with buff trim that matched his perfectly tailored coat, and they molded to his legs as he moved. But he could have been wearing a potato sack, such was the beauty of his face. Even the men around her took a moment to admire him.
But his beauty clearly had not moved Dinah, who had seen fit to rope him into this game of hers.
Peacock, perhaps distressed at the attention moving so easily to the interloper, said, “I beg of you, Lady Abernathy, keep us in suspense no longer.”
Dinah arched her brow and looked at him down the bridge of her nose. “I shall take your eagerness as a pledge to participate, sir.”
Charlotte had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing at Peacock’s expression, which had switched from cajoling to terrified in that moment. She did not envy him his position. He was now committed to whatever madness Dinah had concocted, and it was sure to leave him beaten and embarrassed. The sooner the better, so she could be left in peace to finish her meal, and perhaps become better acquainted with Reece. Maybe if they were able to converse alone, without the prying ears of others, they could have an honest conversation and not one drenched in boring formalities.
Like the discussions she had with Damon.
Oh, how she hated her inability to consider a situation without bringing him into it.
“I am proposing the first ever Belle Pentathlon! Now, now, hush. Save your questions. I shall answer them all forthwith. Suffice to say your minds have not posed a question to which mine has not already found a solution. This is a battle of skill, of will, and of mental acuity—five events that I have specially chosen. The first four will only require completion to advance to the next round, but the final and most difficult will have only one victor.”
“What are the events?” Peacock asked.
“They shall only be made known prior to their need to be completed,” she said. “Which I would have told you if I had remained uninterrupted, as requested. The Pentathlon will be easily completed over the next two hours, with ample time for you to recover and claim your prize.”
“Which is?” Reece Crawford asked, leaning forward in his seat.
Charlotte was surprised by his entry into the fray. She had thought they were to remain behind while the others competed.
“The prize is something you all desire,” Dinah said. Her eyes glinted with merriment as she turned her head and laid her gaze straight on her sister. “It is Charlotte.”
Charlotte blinked as chaos and conversation erupted from the men around her. She must have misheard. Confusion clouded her mind. How was she a prize? Involuntarily, she glanced at Damon, her brow furrowed. He regarded her with little emotion, a pulse at his jaw the only sign that he was tense.
Reece, now on his feet, raised his voice above the din. “You must mean to shock us, Lady Abernathy. Please do be precise.”
“There is no need to mince words. I am not our father, however, it is clear you all mean to pay her court. I will be quite clear. Our father will have to rely on our judgment to determine who may continue his suit. And there is no one whose judgment is more trusted than mine. This is what I offer you: Win my pentathlon, and you will have my favor for your suit.”
The contents of Charlotte’s stomach, however meager, upended and spun. Had Dinah lost her wits? Even the men seemed unsure, their gazes volleying back and forth between the sisters as if watching a chess match. Unfortunately, Dinah was the master at chess, not Charlotte.
She managed to rise to her feet despite her unsteady knees. “A word, dear sister?”
While Damon thought the world of Charlotte, he knew her to be no match for Dinah. Even he was no match for Dinah. So while Charlotte seemed determined to force her sister into calling off her contest, he knew she would not succeed. The two sisters marched a few feet away from the tent, and he moved downwind so he might catch snippets of conversation carried away on the breeze. The flapping edges of the tent concealed him.
“Are you mad?” Charlotte demanded.
Damon bit back a grin. She’d asked him that very question on more than one occasion.
“I think we’ll thin the herd a bit,” Dinah said. “It will be so much better. Father will find all these men annoying.”
“Father will—”
“Find it amusing,” Dinah finished. “He’s in a much better mood now that the rest of us have married.”
“Never mind Father’s opinion. What of mine? What if I do not wish to marry?”
“I never said you would accept a suit. O
nly that the result of such a competition would be my favor in its pursuit. It’s harmless, Charlotte.”
“It’s scandalous, is what it is. Why would you do such a thing?”
Damon held his breath. He did not expect Dinah to lie for him. He would never want one of Charlotte’s sisters to lie to her on his account, but if she revealed his role in the game, there would be fiery, redheaded hell to pay.
“I am bored.”
That, fortunately, was always true in Dinah’s case, and the explanation seemed to satisfy Charlotte, who blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. If you insist, then I suppose I can bear it.”
“Bear it? Oh Charlotte… you aren’t… you musn’t…”
“I’m not crying.”
Damon gripped the tent flap in his fist and heard it tear loose. He hadn’t thought she would be upset.
“I’m not,” Charlotte insisted.
He relaxed at her tone. It was firm, it brooked no foolishness.
“Then why are you so against this?” Dinah asked.
“I suppose I hate to think that you believed I couldn’t find someone on my own.”
“None of us finds husbands alone,” her sister said dryly.
“That is true enough, I suppose.”
Their laughter mingled in the air. He liked the trill in Lottie’s laugh that he detected now and whenever she was nervous, almost as much as he adored the low, husky laugh she only used with him. Both meant that all was well, and he believed this plan of Dinah’s could work.
Dinah finally returned to the group of men with Charlotte in tow. She raised her arms, as if in her own pulpit. “I thank you for waiting, gentlemen. Our first event is riding. I suggest you saddle up.”
He grinned, knowing he would win the event. Granted, it was an elimination round and there would be other “winners,” as it were. Only two of the group had declined to participate. The other dozen were game and ran off to the stables to procure mounts.
Damon had no need to hurry, however. His stallion was at the ready. So he was alone with Charlotte once the others had gone off to prepare for the event. Still others had decided to gossip about it.
