"Not if your daughter accepts me, then it becomes yours as well."
"No," Lord Simmons clarified, "it becomes my daughter's business."
Lord Simmons' response left Royce exasperated, but he quickly checked the emotion. It would hardly do to yell at his future father-in-law. Keeping his voice calm, Royce asked, "Might I ask for your daughter's hand in marriage?"
Lord Simmons shrugged. "It is perfectly fine by me."
"Then can I count upon you to encourage her that I would make the ideal husband? I believe your opinion would matter greatly to her."
Lord Simmons shook his head. "I'm sorry, Tewksbury, but this is something you'll have to do on your own."
"But don't you wish to see your daughter happily settled?"
"Of course. Any father wants that for their daughter, but I also have to leave the choice up to her."
Lord Simmons' response baffled Royce. "Why? I'd think after her troubled experience with Devens, you would be eager to nudge her toward someone you know has the best intentions."
"Don't you think it's a bit presumptuous of you to assume that you are best for Laurel?" Lord Simmons leveled a sober gaze at Royce. "I can't say that for certain. I don't doubt your honor, nor your sincerity, but I do wonder if your approach to marriage would best suit my daughter."
Royce watched as his well-laid plan began to disintegrate before him. Desperately, he struggled to keep it from disappearing completely. "What can I do to convince you?"
"I'm afraid there's nothing at all." Lord Simmons glanced away. "Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn't."
"Why ever not?" Royce asked, feeling slightly insulted by Lord Simmons' lack of trust in him as a gentleman.
Sighing heavily, Lord Simmons admitted. "I'm the one who introduced Laurel to Archibald Devens."
Suddenly, all of Simmons' reticence made sense. After that fiasco, it was little wonder Lord Simmons didn't want to help him. The burden of guilt obviously weighed heavily upon the older man's shoulders.
"When Laurel spoke to me about Devens, she said that before she'd even met him, she'd heard all the other ladies sighing over his exceptional charms and listened as they exclaimed that he would be the ideal husband. Because of this, I believe Laurel thought Devens the perfect match before she even met him," Royce said quietly. "So, whether it was you or someone else who introduced them doesn't seem to be the issue." A side of his mouth tilted upward. "And knowing your daughter, I can say without hesitation that she would have somehow found a way to meet him. So, you see, you weren't at fault, sir. No, it was simply that your daughter made a poor choice."
Lord Percy's gaze sharpened upon him. "Perhaps you might be best for Laurel after all," he murmured softly.
"Then you'll help me?" Royce asked with hope coloring his voice.
Chuckling, Lord Simmons shook his head. "No, but your persistence is admirable."
"Funny, your daughter said almost the exact same thing to me."
* * *
Chapter 7
« ^ »
"I hope you don't think me overly bold for inviting you to join me on a ride through the park," Laurel said as she slowed her horse to a walk. "It's just that I enjoyed our conversation last night so much and I hoped we might have a chance to continue it."
"I would never think you anything but the lady you are," Steven pronounced as he changed his horse's gait. "Quite honestly, I was preparing to call on you when your invitation arrived."
A twinge of apprehension fluttered within her. Perhaps she was carrying this flirtation a bit too far. Yet Royce had reacted so splendidly to seeing her with Steven the evening before, she couldn't resist taunting him again. Since she knew Royce went for a ride in the park every morning, it was the perfect opportunity to bump into him with Steven at her side.
Still, it hardly seemed fair to Steven. He certainly didn't deserve to be used so callously. Guilt raked through her until she realized she needed to confess her actions to him.
Drawing in a deep breath, she began, "Steven, I need to tell you something."
He tossed a smile at her. "Are you going to confess that your only interest in me is to make Royce jealous?"
Stunned, she couldn't form a response.
"Didn't think I knew, did you?" he asked with a laugh.
"No … I mean…" Laurel brought her stutterings to a halt. Closing her eyes for a moment, she calmed herself. When she was composed, she said smoothly, "I can only apologize for using you so dreadfully and…"
"Oh, there has been nothing dreadful about it," Steven replied, leaning forward to smooth his horse's mane. "You've made me quite glad that I returned from my country estate. I wouldn't want to miss the taming of the Earl of Tewksbury."
"I don't believe taming is the right word," returned Laurel tartly. "Replace taming with tormenting and then you'd have it."
"Ah, an evil woman," Steven drawled with a grin. "Are you quite certain all you want from me is to drive Royce insane?"
It was odd how easily she could resist Steven's charm … especially since she hadn't been able to resist Royce's even a little. Smiling at Steven, she nodded her head. "Sorry, but I'm quite certain. In fact, I believe I'm swearing off all men."
"Now that would be a shame."
Laughing at his retort, Laurel glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Royce.
"If you're looking for Van Cleef, I'm afraid you will be sorely disappointed." Steven ducked beneath a tree limb.
"But he always rides in the park at this time of the morning." She knew. She'd paid one of Royce's servants enough money to uncover that bit of information.
"That's true," Steven agreed, "but this morning I have it on the best authority that he had a far more important errand to run."
Disappointment flickered through her; she'd been eagerly anticipating Royce's reaction, "Oh, I didn't know."
"There's no way you could have," Steven said easily. "Since his errand is of a most personal nature, he wouldn't have mentioned it to any of his staff, nor would the information be fodder for the gossips."
Intrigued, Laurel urged Steven to continue. "So how do you know?"
"Because Royce shared the information with two gentlemen who I also consider friends … and they told me." Steven tilted his head to the side and looked at Laurel. "Aren't you the least bit curious about where he is?"
"Of course," Laurel replied, trying to hide her disappointment. "Now, why don't you be the gallant and tell me?"
"How does telling you my friend's secret make me a gallant?"
"Please, Steven. Just tell me."
"Very well, I'll tell you," Steven replied with a smile. "At this very moment, my dear friend Royce is undoubtedly sitting in your father's study…" He paused, giving Laurel a steady look. "…asking for your hand in marriage."
Laurel didn't reply. She was far too busy kicking her horse into a gallop, hoping against hope that she'd reach home in time.
* * *
Racing into the foyer, Laurel didn't even spare a moment to smooth out her wind-tossed attire. Instead, she marched straight over to the door of her father's study and opened it without knocking.
"Laurel, my dear," Lord Simmons began as he and Royce rose from their chairs. "I thought you were out riding."
"I was, but I returned early," she said simply. "Might I have a word with Lord Van Cleef in private?"
Her father's mouth twitched. "Most certainly." Glancing at Royce, he added, "And I do believe the Earl has a matter he wishes to discuss with you."
Laurel could barely contain herself until her father left the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, she turned on Royce. "Whatever are you doing here?"
Holding her gaze, Royce moved closer. "Surely you can guess why I'm here, can't you, my dear?" Stopping a few feet from her, he lifted his hand to lightly stroke one fingertip down her cheek. "You're a very intelligent woman and I'm confident you can reach the proper conclusion on your own."
For a moment, one brief moment, Laure
l allowed herself to be lulled by the lilting tenor of his voice. But once she reminded herself of his foul wager, it was easy to shake off the seductive promise she heard in his voice.
"But that's just it, Royce. I don't wish to draw any conclusions." She stepped back, breaking off contact with him. "I believe we said everything we needed to last night."
"Not quite."
Laurel heard the determination in his voice, yet she would not let down her guard. Again.
"I didn't come here today to speak with you," Royce continued, a sensual smile curving upon his lips. "I came to ask your father's permission to marry you."
Of all the arrogant assumptions he could have made, Royce's belief that she would be overjoyed at his news annoyed her the most … because if she hadn't learned the truth, she might have reacted just that way. Drawing in a calming breath, Laurel stated, "I believe I made myself quite clear last night, Royce. While I appreciate all you've done to open my eyes, I believe we're better suited to being friends."
"Friends?" Royce's voice vibrated with disbelief. "Aren't you forgetting about this?"
And before he finished his question, he'd advanced upon her and swept her into his arms. Lowering his head to bring his mouth inches from hers, Royce rasped, "How can you say you want to be friends when I can make you explode with passion?"
Without a moment's hesitation he closed the distance, his mouth capturing hers. Her overheated emotions reacted fiercely to the desire in his kiss, her anger shifting into passion in an instant. Moaning softly, Laurel pressed her body against his as she gave herself up to the moment.
Royce held her tightly as he parted her lips and deepened the kiss. Eagerly, Laurel met him, accepting all he had to give and returning it in full measure.
Breaking off the kiss to press his mouth against her neck, Royce ran his fingers along the curve of her hack. "I don't kiss my friends this way, Laurel."
No, he makes wagers with them.
The thought broke through the sensual haze fogging her mind, freeing her from the grip of desire. Stiffening within his arms, Laurel twisted away from Royce's embrace: "Please, don't," she murmured coolly.
"My dear … whatever is wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong … except that you persist in calling me by that annoying appellation," she said, smoothing her hair back as she moved away from him. "I just thought it was time to end our kiss before we got carried away." She touched two fingers to her lips. "Though I do so enjoy being kissed."
Following her, Royce grasped her arm, gently turning her around to face him. "Who else has kissed you besides me? Was it Devens?"
She smiled pleasantly at him. "Yes … among others."
"Others? Just how many men have you kissed, Laurel?"
Patting him on the chest, she removed his hand from her arm. "I'm not quite certain, Royce. There were far too many to keep count."
The expression on his face was priceless. Her victory secured, Laurel turned on her heel and left Royce to contemplate her taunting words.
* * *
If that bastard Steven kissed Laurel, then he'd have to toss him into the Thames, Royce decided as he headed toward the scoundrel's townhouse. How could his study of Laurel have left out such an important detail? Too many to count? Everything he'd learned about Laurel had led him to believe that she'd avoided men. Even he'd had to—
Royce skidded to a stop as his thoughts suddenly cleared like sun chasing away fog.
Laurel had tricked him.
He had done his research on Laurel. He'd studied her habits, her friends, her responses to others. Smacking himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand, Royce wondered how he hadn't seen through Laurel's strategy sooner. Thoughts of her sweet response to his kiss began to surface, bringing a smile to his face. After so many years of shutting herself off from the male populace, Laurel was undoubtedly alarmed by her response to him.
Still, Royce knew she had nothing to fear from him, and in time she would learn to trust that he would always honor her. All that remained now was drawing her in close enough to convince her of that fact. What he needed to do now was find another hunter to assist him in securing the prey. It was quite a shame that Lord Simmons wasn't willing to go along with his plan.
Perhaps he would pay Steven a visit after all. It was obvious that his friend had managed to garner Laurel's trust, so perhaps Steven could help him sneak beneath her defenses.
His confidence increased with every step as he headed toward Steven's townhouse.
* * *
A soft knock sounded on the door to Laurel's bedchamber. She continued to gaze out her window at the sunset as she called out, "Enter."
"I hope you don't mind my meddling, dear," Lord Simmons began as he walked into the room. "But I wanted to see how your visit with Lord Van Cleef went."
Holding back a sigh, Laurel turned around to face her father. "It went as you probably suspected it would."
Lord Simmons nodded. "You turned down his proposal then?"
"Of course," Laurel replied as she glanced away. "I hardly know the man." But she thought she had. Laurel fought back her tears as she realized that if she'd received Royce's proposal a mere two days ago, she probably would have accepted it. That knowledge only increased her anger toward him.
Approaching his daughter, Lord Simmons reached out to stroke his hand down the length of her hair. "Have you considered giving yourself a chance to get to know him? I know how badly you were hurt by Archie, but perhaps it's time to overcome your fears."
"But that's just it, Father. I did," Laurel admitted as tears spilled down her cheeks. "What I said is true, I hardly know Royce … but I thought I did. I spent time with him and felt connected to him." Her heart tightened as she confessed, "I thought I was falling in love with him."
Lord Simmons looked down at her, concern darkening his gaze. "Then what happened?"
"I discovered the only reason he was showing any interest in me at all was because he'd made some sort of wager. Apparently, he declared that the way to find a wife was to treat the courtship like a hunt. And the bride like a … f…fox." Laurel swiped at her tears.
"Ahhh, so that's what all the questions about fox hunting were about," Lord Simmons murmured as he gathered Laurel in his arms.
Leaning against her father's strength, Laurel let herself cry for the first time over her bitter disappointment.
"Everything will turn out just fine," her father said softly. "You'll see."
Her tears subsiding, Laurel nodded against her father's chest. "I know it will," she agreed with a tear-stained voice. "Especially when Royce finds himself captured by his own trap."
"You're planning on marrying him then?"
"Of course not." Laurel pulled back to give her father a wavering smile. "But I do intend to make him crazed."
Laughing softly, her father pressed a kiss upon her forehead. "I've always admired your sense of fairness."
Laurel joined her father in laughter as the sweet image of Royce, frustrated and annoyed, danced in her head. She'd teach him a thing or two about placing a horrid wager on a lady, toying with her emotions as if she were a … a … furry little creature.
Yes, it was past time for the high and mighty Lord Van Cleef to be taught a lesson on how to treat a lady.
* * *
Chapter 8
« ^ »
"Royce paid me a visit today," Steven said as he swung Laurel around the dance floor.
Stumbling slightly, Laurel fought to regain her balance. "Did he tell you he proposed?"
"Naturally." Glancing pointedly down at her, Steven slowed their steps. "Though I suspect he left out a few details."
A flush darkened her cheeks. "Why would you think that?"
"Oh, just the way he seemed to drift off occasionally, losing his train of thought, all the while wearing a secretive smile." Steven shrugged. "Little indications like that."
Laurel felt an odd sense of satisfaction. She'd trusted Royce to keep their conversation
confidential and in this, at least, he hadn't disappointed her. "What else did he say to you? Anything of importance?"
"Only that he wants me to help lure you to him."
Smiling brightly, Laurel responded pertly. "Too bad for him that I got to you first."
Steven twirled her toward the edge of the dance floor, and, before she could utter a word, she'd been spun around, straight into Royce's arms.
Whirling her away, Royce gave her a rakish grin. "Do you mind if I cut in?"
"It's a bit late to ask, don't you think?" Laurel glanced back at Steven, who stood on the side of the room wearing a sly, knowing grin. "The least Steven could do is look a bit disappointed."
"Even if be did, I'd still be wearing a smile," Royce said smoothly. "After all, you're dancing with me."
"For the moment," Laurel warned, watching as Steven began to move closer. "It appears that Steven is getting into position to cut in."
Grinning boldly, Royce immediately twirled her around, angling them away from Steven.
"What are you planning on doing? Make Steven chase us all around the room?"
"Not at all," Royce replied. "He's an intelligent fellow, so he'll quickly realize that his efforts are futile and give up the chase."
Sobering, Laurel looked up at Royce. "And what will it take to make you realize the same thing?"
"That I'm wasting my time chasing you? I don't think that's possible. For you see, my sweet Laurel, I've looked past your protests and found the truth."
Gazing at him coolly, Laurel asked, "And what would that be?"
"Despite all these men you claim to have … entertained," Royce began dryly, "you're still intrigued by me for one simple reason." He paused for a moment, before saying, "You enjoy my company."
"Not lacking for confidence, I see," she retorted quickly.
"If I did, I could never hope to win over a strong-willed lady such as yourself." Royce turned them toward the middle of the dance floor, moving them away from Steven once again.
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