by Claudia Dain
“Miss Prestwick,” he said, laying his hand upon her arm. The strangest warmth, soothing and calm, flowed through her. “Stop. There is no need to drive yourself into a frenzy. I shall not wager such a simple thing if you feel so many ill responses could accrue to you.”
“Thank you, Lord Iveston,” she said, staring up at him. He was a very attractive man, wasn’t he? Quite tall and so very fit-looking.
“Perhaps the answer is to wager on something else entirely,” he said, smiling gently down at her. “I could wager that it is I who will marry you this Season. That will throw the odds very much in my favor as we both know you and I will not marry. I could make quite a purse, once you break Edenham to the halter.”
“Lord Iveston! That is such an odious way of putting it!” she said stiffly. “But it does make good sense,” she added with a grin. “Of course, there is the question as to why anyone would believe I would prefer Edenham to you.”
“You make a very poor liar, Miss Prestwick,” he said. “Your very eyes proclaim your preference. You do remember the metaphor of the hawk?”
“Lord Iveston, do not say I am so obvious in my interest. It strips me of every notion I have of myself as a proper woman.”
“A proper woman is deceptive? Or is devious the word you meant?”
“Discreet was the word I meant, Lord Iveston, as I am quite certain you are aware,” she said, smiling with more pure enjoyment than she had ever yet done with a man. What was it about Iveston that made her laugh? She wouldn’t have thought it possible for an heir apparent to provoke such a response in her.
“Then we have an agreement, Miss Prestwick?” he said, his eyes shining merrily.
She nodded. “You are to place your bet that you and I will wed. I am assuming that men, being men, will cluster about to see what you see in me and to perhaps beat you to the prize. It is to be hoped that one of those men is the Duke of Edenham.”
“You shall not mind being … clustered, Miss Prestwick?” Iveston asked softly. He seemed to put undue emphasis on the word; she couldn’t think why.
“I think I shall enjoy it completely, Lord Iveston,” she said. “I have watched it happen to other women and I think I can manage it very well. After all, the gentlemen of the ton do know how to behave around a woman of refinement, don’t they? I should think it will all be good fun.”
“I do think I must remind you that you did just refer to yourself as a prize to be won. The rules of engagement are a bit different in situations of that kind. You might ask Lady Dalby for some help in learning how to handle yourself.”
She puffed out her chest. “Lord Iveston, I know how to handle myself in any circumstance in which I find myself. I do not require instruction. From anyone.”
Lord Iveston dipped his blond head down and looked at her from beneath his pale brows. “Then, Miss Prestwick, let the games begin.”
“I don’t care what you say. This game has gone on long enough. I want to get home to my wife and play a game of my own.”
When Cranleigh snarled in that particular fashion, it truly was time to give in to him. Iveston was more than certain that Amelia knew that quite well by now.
“Would you say I’d won the bet?” Iveston asked him as they walked across the salon to Lady Dalby.
“All she did was talk to you. Once. She’ll need to do more than that to convince me.”
“Convince you? It’s Mr. Grey I must convince, isn’t it?” Iveston asked in a hushed undertone.
“You’re not leaving?” Sophia said as they stood before her, making their bows. “So soon?”
“I’m afraid we must,” Iveston said. “A new husband. A new bride. There are laws, I think, demanding adherence.”
“Demanding something,” Sophia said with a small smile.
She was standing alone near the front window, her white dress nearly glowing in the candlelight and reflected in the dark panes of glass. She looked very mysterious, very separate, though in a room full of people, Iveston couldn’t think why.
“You have been most kind, to allow us all to overrun you,” Iveston said.
“I don’t feel overrun in the slightest, Lord Iveston. You and your brother, all your brothers, are welcome in my home, always.”
“And our cousins?” Cranleigh said. “It seems you know our American cousins, Lady Dalby. How is that?”
“We shared a country?” Sophia countered, then laughed lightly. “No, I don’t suppose that quite answers it. It’s not a complicated story. Do you mean to say your mother never told you?”
A moment of uncomfortable silence followed. It was not possible that Sophia had not orchestrated it intentionally, a punishment of sorts. Iveston didn’t know her at all well, but even he knew that Sophia was careful of her privacy and didn’t allow intruders into the depths of her life. He hardly blamed her as he was much the same way himself.
“She did not,” Cranleigh said.
“How odd,” Sophia said, then shrugged. “It is only that I was in New York and needed passage to England. An Elliot ship was in the harbor, your aunt made the arrangements, and voila, I was on my way. Such a lovely woman, very much like your mother, but then, you know that.”
It was perfectly plain that Sophia was not going to say another word on the subject, that she was aware that their mother had said nothing to them about it, that their aunt had said nothing to them about it, and therefore, she saw no reason to say anything more about it. Which of course only proved that there was some secret to the whole affair; and Iveston, for perhaps the first time in his life, was curious about things that had gone on before he was born. Oh, he was as interested as the next man about wars and kingdoms and all the important things that had fashioned nations and treaties, but this was a very small thing. He had never before been interested in very small things, such as those things that involved his parents. It was particularly odd, almost a revelation of sorts, to think of his parents as having a history that did not intimately involve him. He wasn’t sure he liked it.
“You and Miss Prestwick seemed to get on quite well together, Lord Iveston,” Sophia said, changing the subject and proving his point. “I had no idea you were so well acquainted.”
“We’re not, actually. She is a recent acquaintance,” Iveston said.
“Kindred spirits, clearly,” Sophia said.
“We really must be going,” Cranleigh said, taking Iveston by the arm.
“I do thank you most sincerely for the vase, Lord Cranleigh,” Sophia said. “You Blakesleys are so very generous. I am so appreciative.”
She looked quite genuine about it, which was almost touching. Even Cranleigh looked somewhat emotional about it all, which was so unusual an occurrence as to be remarkable.
“You’re very welcome, Lady Dalby,” Cranleigh said, tugging on his arm again. It was most tiresome.
“You have plans for this evening, of course,” Iveston said.
“How nice of you to inquire,” Sophia said. “I do.”
Of course, nothing so simple that she should offer up her destination so that Iveston could follow her there and perhaps run again into Miss Prestwick, Mr. George Grey somehow in tow.
This wager was becoming quite difficult to manage. He should never have agreed to it. How was he to win if he could never get all the participants in the same room? And he had to run over to White’s tonight and get his wager there on the books. Small good making a pudding of Penelope Prestwick would be if he had no wager recorded on it.
“I find myself open,” Iveston said as casually as possible.
“Really?” Sophia asked innocently. As Sophia was hardly an innocent, it was entirely comical of her. “But then, you do have the reputation for enjoying the quiet of Hyde House, feeding your solitude.”
“I did think,” he said, ignoring Cranleigh’s rumbles of discontent, “that it was time I fed other needs, Lady Dalby. Perhaps acquired a new reputation for enjoying different things.”
“Broadening your scope,” she said,
nodding approvingly. “How wise of you.”
“I don’t suppose you’d like to help me?”
“Lord Iveston! I am on quite close terms with your mother,” Sophia said.
Iveston blushed. It was completely reprehensible of him, but he did. “I’m afraid that’s not what I meant, Lady Dalby.”
“I don’t know whether to be relieved or not,” she said with a half smile, teasing him mercilessly. “But what did you mean?”
“Iveston, we should leave now,” Cranleigh said at his back.
“Don’t worry, Lord Cranleigh,” Sophia said. “I shan’t harm your brother a bit. Not even if he asks it of me. Not even if he would enjoy every moment of it.”
Iveston did not blush. He grinned. It was a vast improvement. It must have been that his mother was mentioned before; that was the reason for his unmanly blush at Sophia’s first ribald remark. It stood to reason.
“Lady Dalby, may I confide in you?” Iveston asked. Cranleigh made a sound; it might have been a moan.
“Please do,” she said. “I simply adore it when a handsome man shares confidences with me. I am quite discreet. You may trust me completely.”
Cranleigh definitely moaned. It was a most unpleasant sound. He should give up the habit immediately.
“I have a wager in play, two actually, though both are connected,” Iveston said. “May I ask your help in arranging them?”
“I never like to get involved in a wager, Lord Iveston.”
Cranleigh snorted. It was an improvement, but a slender one.
“I do think wagers ought to play out without any interference, don’t you?” Sophia continued. “How else is a wager ever to be thought honorable if any sort of arrangements are connected to them?”
“Oh, please,” Cranleigh said under his breath.
“You misunderstand me, Lady Dalby,” Iveston said. “The crux of each wager is a woman.”
“But naturally, darling. The most interesting wagers always are,” she said.
“And the woman is—”
“Miss Prestwick, of course.”
“But how did you know?”
“She is quite beautiful, quite available, and quite the most unique woman out this Season,” Sophia said. “Whom else should you be tempted to wager over? I should be surprised if Miss Prestwick does not induce many men of discernment to seek her favor.”
“By wagering about her?” Cranleigh said, rather snidely, too.
“But, Cranleigh, surely as a man of the world you know perfectly well that that is precisely how men behave. It is not how they should behave, at least as instructed by their mothers, but it is how they behave.”
Unpleasant, but true. Even Cranleigh was forced to silence. Something of a relief to Iveston as this wasn’t the most effortless conversation he found himself having. But what else to be done? He needed someone to make the arrangements to get the proper people in the proper room, and he knew without question that Sophia was the one to do it.
“Will you help me, Lady Dalby?” Iveston asked. “I am involved in a wager that I fear is quite beyond me to manage. A matter of gathering the principals into the same place at the same time, you see.”
“And the principals are?”
“Your nephew, Mr. George Grey,” Iveston said, “Miss Prestwick, Edenham, and myself.”
“Ah, the matter becomes quite clear upon hearing the names of the principal players, Lord Iveston,” Sophia said, smiling brightly up at him. She was quite a beautiful woman and so sparkling in her intelligence. “You and George have a wager as to how soon Edenham and Miss Prestwick will marry. I daresay, it will not be long before White’s book is full of such wagers and counter wagers.”
Perhaps not as intelligent as he had first hoped, but her beauty made up the lack somewhat.
Cranleigh chuckled. Iveston elbowed him in the ribs, discreetly, of course.
“Not precisely,” Iveston said. “However, the particulars of the wager are really not the point. It is only that we all must be together as often as possible over the next few days. Can you think how to manage it, Lady Dalby? I must believe that you would know how, you have such skill at these things.”
“Wagers, Lord Iveston, or managing?” she asked.
“Both, I should think,” Iveston said with a hesitant smile. He had her. She was going to help him. He could see it in her eyes.
“How right you are, Iveston,” she said. “I don’t see a problem at all. Leave all to me.”
“Happily,” Iveston said.
“Fool,” Cranleigh said under his breath, still rubbing his rib cage.
“You have received an invitation to the Countess of Lanreath’s soiree tonight?” she asked. Iveston nodded. “Perfect. I’ll see you there, Lord Iveston, as will all the principals.”
“But Miss Prestwick,” Iveston said, “you have no doubt that her presence is assured?”
“Lord Iveston, would you care to wager on it?” Sophia answered with a bright smile.
As it happened, he did not.
Eleven
ONCE Iveston and Cranleigh had departed, with obvious reluctance on Iveston’s part and obvious eagerness on Cranleigh’s, the others did not long linger. Of course, as it was long past the time for them all to prepare for the evening’s revels and they did have to dress the part, lingering was not at all to be encouraged. Miss Prestwick and her darling brother stayed the longest, partly to stay near Edenham for as long as possible, but also because Sophia had by a most quelling look encouraged her to stay for a private moment between them.
She had very much to say to Penelope and very little time in which to say it. Things were moving at a furious rate, which was sometimes enjoyable, but only if one were prepared. She very much doubted Miss Prestwick was properly prepared and equally certain Miss Prestwick thought she was.
“Mr. Prestwick,” Sophia said, sliding her hand around his arm, “do make it a point to drag Lord Ruan with you as you leave. I shall never be able to perform the necessary steps in my toilette if he cannot be encouraged out upon the street. I think it must take a man of your affability and charm to accomplish the deed. I shall just have a small moment with your sister whilst you engage him in some topic that will compel him to follow you out, shall I?”
Of course it was absurd to think that a young man of Mr. Prestwick’s experience and disposition could compel Ruan to do anything, but it was just as true that a man of Prestwick’s disposition and youth would be delighted to perform an act of apparent chivalry. What was left to conjecture was how Ruan would react. Sophia couldn’t help but be curious. She didn’t think Prestwick would come to any harm. She was very nearly certain of it. Certainly Ruan had better manners than that.
“I should be delighted to assist you in any way I may,” Prestwick said. “Do you know what his interests are?”
“I believe he enjoys the hunt,” Sophia said, meaning something else entirely, something that did not involve dogs or foxes but perfume and stays.
While Prestwick walked over to the door to the white salon, where Ruan was most definitely lingering, Sophia took Penelope by the elbow and led her firmly to the other side of the room, to the precise spot where she had been engaged with Iveston for the better part of a quarter hour.
“We had an agreement, Miss Prestwick,” Sophia said. “I don’t enjoy having a firm arrangement change under my very feet, and certainly not under my very roof.”
Penelope looked at her with her dark eyes wide and said, “I desire no change to our agreement, Lady Dalby. Not at all. I only sought to hurry things along. I am very eager to have it all settled, which I’m certain I made clear to you.”
“And I’m certain I made clear to you that I do nothing for nothing. I have yet to meet your father, yet to state my price, yet to have that price met. Of course, I am not unreasonable. The promise of the price is enough to satisfy me, if the person be someone of honor. You, Miss Prestwick, have not behaved honorably. You have acted precipitously and without due consider
ation of all the particulars.”
“I only wanted to properly meet the Duke of Edenham. Surely the sooner the better, Lady Dalby.”
“I thought that you were leaving it to me to decide which man is best for you?”
Penelope lowered her gaze for a moment and then stared boldly into Sophia’s eyes. “I assumed you had Edenham in mind. He’s quite eligible. I do think he was favorably impressed by me. It’s a good beginning, don’t you think?”
Sophia shook her head at Penelope and said, “It might have been a good beginning, if you had let me arrange things. It did you little good to meet him in a room full of people, all of them men.”
“I thought that was to my advantage,” Penelope argued, lifting her delightful little chin.
“It was not,” Sophia said. “Men are very different when grouped into a throng. They are nearly desperate to behave in ways which are not at all flattering to them, and they are wise enough in the ways of women to know it. By being the sole woman in the room, your presence made them uncomfortable. Is that how you wanted to impress Edenham? By making him uncomfortable?”
“I was not the sole woman. You were there as well,” Penelope said stoutly.
“Darling, I am very able to manage myself in a room full of men because I am very well able to manage the men. I assume that’s why you came to me in the first place?”
“No, I—”
“Miss Prestwick, things have indeed, by your very wish, proceeded at a nearly alarming rate,” Sophia interrupted. “The Duke of Edenham is indeed interested in you, in so far that he has noticed you, for what cause I am not certain, but he has noticed you. He is not adverse to marrying again. He noted your extended and highly cordial conversation with Lord Iveston, which was very clever of you, I daresay. There is no good reason for Edenham to be encouraged to think you will jump into his bed if he but snaps his fingers.”
