“Anne and Davenport should have already arrived,” Claire continued, apparently striving to singlehandedly carry on a conversation. Monologues of this nature, the kind meant to fill awkward silence, were typically Georgie’s domain.
Claire’s smile grew impossibly sweet. “We’ll all get to see little Margaret again, will that not be lovely?”
Jed did not have the heart to ignore that. It wasn’t his beautiful baby niece’s fault that her mother had married a man purported to be the devil himself. She was an innocent babe, so he found himself giving a grudging grunt of agreement.
Nicholas, too, managed to murmur that it would, indeed, be nice to see the little angel.
Claire’s smile was far too smug. Mischievous, even. As her elder brother for a lifetime, he’d always known that she was not the simpering, boring, proper young lady society believed her to be. But even so, he was still getting used to seeing this side of her on display around others.
Around Nicholas.
In fact, he’d noticed that she seemed to grow ever more candid with her sly humor and her mischievous ways ever since she’d married that man.
He caught Nicholas’s affectionate smile as he glanced over at his wife. “Using a wee infant to try and mend fences, are we?”
Claire laughed, and it was a genuine sound. One Jed was used to only hearing in the privacy of their home. She was herself with Nicholas, and he loved her for it.
The thought was jarring as it temporarily made him inclined to approve of Nicholas, of this match. And in truth, he would have supported their union if only Nicholas had not gone about it all wrong. Everyone knew he was a womanizing rake, but to seduce his innocent sister?
It was the worst sort of insult.
His traitorous mind flashed back to that hellish morning two years ago and the look of bitter rebuke in Eliza’s eyes. He shifted in his seat once more, but this time it had nothing to do with his back.
He tried to ignore Nicholas and Claire’s good-natured bickering, but it was useless as he was sitting directly across from them.
“I was simply trying to point out all we have to look forward to during this house party,” Claire said in her defense.
Nicholas made a tsking sound before teasing her further. “Really, Claire. Using a baby to win over your brother. Who knew you could be so heartless.”
“Oh nonsense. It’s not my fault everyone loves that little girl. And what is not to love?”
No one could argue that point.
Claire carried on, clearly happy that she’d broken the silence in the carriage and found one topic, at least, on which all could agree.
“And it will be lovely to see Georgie in her new home.” She looked directly at Jed. “Can you imagine, Jed? Little Georgie, a proper duchess!”
His lips twitched up despite himself. But really, it was hard to imagine, even now, months after the wedding. Of his three sisters, he could not have imagined one less likely to become a duchess, and to such a boring old grump. It was difficult to fathom how that had come about.
But, as with Claire, he could hardly fight the match when it made her so damned happy. Georgie had always been a chipper sort, but she nearly floated across the room during her wedding ceremony. Duchess or not, she’d made no effort to hide the fact that she was crazed with love for her husband.
“Will the boys be here?” Nicholas asked.
‘The boys’ was how Jed and his sisters had always referred to the younger brothers—the twins, Jonathon and Marcus, and Collin, the youngest. Collin shared Anne’s shocking red hair, which all but advertised the fact that he was as illegitimate as she—though no one admitted it openly.
“Yes, and I am glad. It’s about time this family spent some time together now that it has grown so.”
Jed had a thousand unpleasant comments he wished to say to that. This happy expansion she spoke of was anything but, as far as he was concerned. He might have failed but he’d spent a lifetime trying to do right by his siblings, only to watch them make choices that were lunacy, at best, and harmful at worst.
Was there any way that sweet, kind, honest Anne’s marriage to a known devil could end happily? Claire, his beautiful, charming sister, could have chosen any man among the ton. Why on earth had she chosen a known rake?
And Georgie, his innocent little sister, was now shackled to a man so domineering and grim, he would surely crush that delicate, carefree spirit of hers.
“Is it only family then?” Nicholas asked.
“Oh no,” Claire said. “Georgie invited some close friends, as well. Mary Beaucraft will be there, of course, along with her sister—”
“Eliza?” Jed hadn’t actually meant to interrupt, but the name had tumbled out of his mouth in his shock.
Nay, his horror.
Claire stared at him with wide eyes for a moment. Even Nicholas looked taken aback by his response.
Jed cleared his throat, trying to come up with something to say to explain his shock.
“Yes, Eliza,” Claire said slowly.
“But…why?” Oh hell, he needed to stop speaking. Claire and Nicholas were eyeing him as though he’d just started speaking Greek. But then, why would he care about Eliza being there? He’d never told either of them about his run-in with that woman two years ago.
Of course he hadn’t. For telling them about that would have meant explaining why she was so furious with him. It would have meant admitting to that wager that had nearly cost him his soul.
He hated to dwell on that fateful night himself—the shame of it still haunted him. The last thing he wanted was to tell his sister and his erstwhile best friend.
The thought of seeing Eliza again—of being in the same room with her, in the same house…
Bloody hell, this was the house party of his worst nightmares. Was it too late to feign an illness?
“Oh look, there’s Roxborough Manor now,” Claire called out.
Hell and damnation. There was nothing for it but to face her. To face his own horrid past.
He could only hope that he survived this encounter with Eliza without a sword in his gut. He wouldn’t put it past her. The rage in her eyes that last time he’d seen her couldn’t have faded entirely. He’d seen her since then, of course, but he’d always steered clear. She didn’t socialize much so it hadn’t been difficult to avoid her.
Which begged the question, what on earth was she doing here?
She never attended social outings. Why, he knew not, but he’d made it his business to know her comings and goings these past two years precisely so he could avoid her. He knew better than most just how rare and out of character that her being here was.
The next few hours passed by him in a haze. He went through the motions of greeting Georgie and her husband, of embracing Anne and kissing little Margaret. He made some small talk with Davenport, answering his questions about his estate, which was now Davenport’s business as all the money went to him.
Typically that would have irked him. On any other occasion he would have bristled at the questions, at the insinuation that he needed another man’s oversight. At any other time he would have silently criticized his host, the duke, for his quiet, stodgy manners as his sister flitted about—a true hostess in her element.
But he was not himself. He couldn’t focus on anything for more than a moment. All thoughts kept coming back to Eliza—on her imminent arrival, on her reason for joining this party, on what she might say or do once she arrived.
The deep, lingering fear he could not ignore was that she would expose him to his family. Were he being honest, that was the fear that had prompted him to keep a watchful eye on her these past two years more than anything else.
It was an odd feeling having one’s most shameful secret held in the hands of a woman who despised him. It gave her a power he abhorred. It made him hate her from afar, even though she had never shown any inclination to reveal his secret.
The sheer fact that she knew it—that she was aware of his deepe
st, darkest shame—that alone made him resentful and that resentment had grown into an active dislike, though he was well aware it was unjust.
It was himself he hated, not Eliza. But that didn’t stop this cold, unpleasant sensation from stealing over him at the very thought of her.
He was on edge all that first day, and up before dawn the morning of her imminent arrival. All night he’d tossed and turned, his fitful sleep interrupted time and again with memories of Eliza’s dark eyes, clouded with judgment, filled with disgust.
In his last dream, her face had morphed into his mother’s and then his father’s and then each of his siblings in turn. It was her disdain reflected in the faces of those he held most dear.
He finally gave up on sleep altogether and made his way down to the dining room for an early breakfast. Roxborough, he knew, rose early and ate a light meal before working the morning away. He dreaded running into his somber brother-in-law—hell, he dreaded running into half the occupants of this house. But it was a pleasant surprise when he found Georgie and not her husband sipping a cup of tea.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked as he walked in.
“Not well. And you? What are you up so early for?”
She scrunched up her nose. “A hostess’s work is never done.”
Sliding into the seat across from her he reached for a piece of bread as Georgie slid the butter and jam in his direction.
“You know,” he said slowly. “You needn’t have hosted such a party as this. If this is a hardship, I would be happy to make your life easier by leaving early.”
He was only half joking but she laughed as though he’d told a witty joke. “Don’t be silly, Jed. I want you all here. I might gripe about hostessing duties but I wouldn’t have invited you all if I did not want your company.”
She took a sip of her tea, giving him a wide-eyed look of innocence over the rim. “Besides,” she said as she set it down once more. “You can hardly leave when the whole point of this little get together was to help you resolve your issues with your new brothers-in-law.”
He scowled at her. “So you don’t deny it then.”
She arched her brows, all sweetness and light. “Of course not. You know what a terrible liar I am.” She grinned. “Besides, would it really be so bad to make peace?”
“With the three men who have slighted my honor and that of my sisters?”
She rolled her eyes. “Lud, but that was a fine bit of swollen-headed nonsense.”
He growled low in his throat, but she did not seem to notice. Georgie never had paid much mind to her brothers’ aggravation. She tended to say what she thought. Her forthrightness was never cruel, but she wasn’t one to suffer fools gladly.
Not that he admitted to being a fool—but judging by her arched brows and her pursed lips, she found him to be one at the moment. “Jed Cleveland, no one in this household set out to hurt anyone. Least of all you.”
“Well then they failed miserably.” He ticked of his grievances on his fingers. “Davenport nearly ruined Anne—”
“But he did not,” she interjected.
“Nicholas nearly ruined Claire—”
“But he did not.”
“And Roxborough—”
“Do not dare say a word against my husband.” Her tone brooked no arguments. “His means of proposing might have been a tad scandalous, and he has acknowledged that he should have asked permission first. But it’s not as though you could have stopped me from marrying him. Even if you’d said no I would have run away with him.”
He let out a sigh of exasperation because he knew it to be true. No one, least of all him, could have stopped his sisters when they set their minds to something. It was one of the things he admired most about them, when it wasn’t driving him crazy.
“My point is, whether it was intentional or not, your husbands did cause harm to my sisters—”
“And, more importantly, they wounded your pride,” she finished.
He met his sister’s gaze, which was honest, direct, and kind. He could try and bluster some sort of response but they both knew she was right.
So instead he took a bite of his bread.
Georgie resumed speaking as though they hadn’t just shared an awkwardly intimate moment. “Each and every one of those men fell victim to love—”
With his mouth full of bread, his laughter came out as a sort of muffled snort.
She gave him a haughty look, though her lips were twitching with amusement as well. “I know you do not believe in true love, but you will when it happens to you.”
He started to protest but she wouldn’t let him.
“And when that time comes, we will forgive your foibles in return.” She took a small sip of tea, her green eyes twinkling with mirth as she added, “For when you finally do fall in love, I fully expect you to act a fool just like all the rest of us.”
He let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “I’ve done enough of that already.”
She knew what he was referring to and her head tilting to the side was her only form of acknowledgement. Really, when one loses the family’s fortune at the gaming tables, the fact that he’d acted like an arse was no longer up for debate.
“Oh dear,” Anne’s voice behind him from the doorway interrupted the moment. She sank into a seat beside him, exhaustion evident in her every move—not to mention the shadows beneath her eyes. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she asked, “Have I missed an invitation to the pity party? I could so use some company.”
“Another sleepless night with Margaret?” Georgie asked with a wince.
Anne nodded against his shoulder. “Frederick is with her now, but I desperately needed some tea and refreshments.”
With a yawn, she straightened and turned her attention to him. “Please tell me you are not feeling sorry for yourself again.”
He stiffened, torn between amusement and irritation at the way his sisters so blithely forgave and forgot his past transgressions.
Georgie popped a piece of pastry into her mouth with a grin. “I do believe you are just in time for yet another apology from our favorite eldest brother.”
“Again? Good heavens, haven’t we beaten that dead horse to pieces yet?” Anne gave a firm shake of her head. “I am exhausted as it is, I am certain I would fall asleep where we sit if I have to sit through another tedious apology.”
He sighed. What was he to do with sisters like these?
Be grateful, he supposed. Be grateful and try his damnedest to do as they wished and make peace with their husbands.
Something inside him rebelled at the idea, but he couldn’t ignore what Georgie had said. How much of this anger was merely his wounded pride speaking?
He was spared from analyzing his motives any further when Georgie picked up her earlier conversation as if it had never been interrupted. “I was just telling Jed that he needs to have sympathy for people in love.”
“Oh mercy, yes,” Anne said as she helped herself to a pastry of her own. “No one needs it more.”
Georgie fixed him with a meaningful look. “You can start by being kind to Miss Eliza Beaucraft when she arrives this morning.”
He jolted at the mention of her name. He’d been thinking of her so much and so often, hearing her name felt as though someone had reached into his brain and spoken what they’d found there.
“Pardon me? What…why…what-what-whatever do you mean?” He drew in a deep breath, keenly aware that his stammering had caused both sisters to cease eating and drinking so they could give him their full attention.
“I mean,” Georgie said slowly. “That I believe Eliza may have developed…feelings for you.”
He widened his eyes as her words took hold. What sort of joke was this? The woman despised him. Either Georgie had faulty information or…or…
Or…he had no idea what other option there could be. Clearly Georgie had heard a false rumor.
“Trust me, that is not the case,” he said.
“I know it to b
e true,” Georgie returned.
They stared at one another and he had a feeling she was wary about how much to reveal, just as he was. To delve into this conversation any further would mean answering questions about why he was so very positive that Eliza did not harbor romantic feelings for him.
How could he explain that she despised him without telling them why?
Their stalemate finally ended when Georgie sighed and lifted her tea. Her tone was still knowing, however. “We shall see.”
Anne looked back and forth between them with a mischievous grin. “Oh, this should be entertaining.”
Jed did not relish the idea of being anyone’s source of entertainment. More than that, he hated the idea of seeing Eliza again, particularly in front of his sisters and Nicholas, all of whom knew him better than anyone else.
They’d see his discomfort. They would note the way she glared at him. Worse, what if she said something outright?
His past actions seemed to hang over him like an axe and Eliza was his very own executioner. He’d gone through every possible scenario in his mind of how this first meeting could go. But when the time came, and he gathered with the others in a drawing room to greet the new arrivals, nothing could have prepared him for the reality to come.
First, and most importantly, he did not recognize her.
Mary entered the room, and then one of Georgie’s other pretty young friends, and then…wait a moment, where was Eliza?
His gaze fixed on the doorway for that familiar frumpy form with her severe expression—the face and figure that had been haunting his dreams.
And not in a good way.
“Jed, you remember Mary Beaucraft and her sister, Eliza, do you not?” Georgie said as she led the two pretty young women in his direction.
His gaze snapped to the two women approaching. Mary Beaucraft and…oh holy hell. Yes, it was she. Eliza Beaucraft, only…not. She looked nothing like he’d remembered. And yet, she did look the same. It was her, but it wasn’t.
Confusion lasted for a mere second, but the effect rattled him to his bones. So much so that it was only habit that had him muttering the appropriate responses in greeting. He all but ignored Mary as his gaze collided with Eliza’s behind her.
A Gentleman's Gamble (Devilish Lords Book 3) Page 4
