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Authors: Victoria Alexander
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braying horse.”
“Even so—”
“I expect you want someone amusing, and I daresay that sound”—Robert shuddered—“would spoil the…mood.”
“Very well. Mr. Wolcroft?”
“Notoriously tight with his money.” He signaled a passing waiter and handed him their now-empty glasses.
“Lord Milton?”
“Devoted to gambling.” He leaned toward her in a conspiratorial manner. “And not very good at it either.”
“Viscount Smithfield?”
Robert grimaced. “Nasty temper.”
“The Earl of Rosebury?”
“Overly attached to his mother.”
“Baron Copely?”
“Handsome enough but of less than average intelligence.” Robert shook his head. “No, no, none of these will do.”
“My goodness.” She flipped open her fan in an innocent manner and waved it idly. “This is a problem.”
“Not at all. I have the perfect prospect.”
“Oh?”
He glanced around the room. “I see him now. I suggest the two of you start your liaison with a dance.”
She laughed. “You can’t possibly think I am going to accept some man you have selected for me?”
“You’ll accept this one. He’s charming and amusing. He has a great deal of experience with women. And even better”—Robert grinned—“he looks exactly like me.”
“Surely you’re not talking about Harry?”
“Oh, but I am. He’ll suit beautifully.”
“Harry,” she said thoughtfully, then smiled. “Excellent choice.”
“I thought so.” Robert’s manner was decidedly smug. “I shall be happy to fetch him for you.”
“How considerate of you. And most appreciated, I might add.”
“I am nothing if not considerate.” He nodded and started off.
Damnable man. What was he up to now? Of course, the answer was obvious, and she should have realized it at once. Robert had selected Harry for her for much the same reasons she had selected Harry. Even if Harry refused to accept it, he could indeed be trusted by both of them. Robert had no idea Harry had once sought to gain her affection, and might well change his mind about Harry’s trustworthiness if he knew. Amelia had no intention to ever inform him otherwise. Aside from the harm it would do their relationship, it was nice to know she always had something that could be held over Harry’s head, should the need to do so ever again arise.
Robert made his way around the room until he reached his brother, a scant dozen yards away, speaking with a lovely woman Amelia didn’t know. They exchanged words; Harry glanced at her, nodded, and started in her direction, but her attention remained on her husband. Who was that woman? Robert took her hand and raised it to his lips. Light flashed off the woman’s wrist, off a bracelet that even at this distance was distinct. Amelia’s breath caught. Was this then his mistress? A moment later Robert swept the lady onto the dance floor. Amelia was hard pressed to take her eyes off the couple.
Harry reached her side. “Amelia, I have given your plan a great deal of thought and—”
“Harry, who is that?” she said abruptly.
“Who is who?”
“The woman dancing with Robert.” She swallowed hard.
“Lady Deering?”
“That’s her, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed her.” He chuckled. “She’s lovely, isn’t she? And a widow. I do so like widows. The very moment I can dispose of this nonsense between you and my brother, I intend to devote all of my time and attention to her.”
She stared at her brother-in-law. “Why would you devote your time and attention to Robert’s mistress?”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Well, then—”
“However, as that is not Robert’s mistress, as he doesn’t have a mistress, there are no impediments to making her mine.”
“But she’s wearing the bracelet.”
“Which cost me a pretty penny.” He shook his head. “I tell you, Amelia, it’s not enough to simply be charming and witty. There are certain procedures for getting a woman into your bed. Flowers, notes of affection—preferably with a
“Even so—”
“I expect you want someone amusing, and I daresay that sound”—Robert shuddered—“would spoil the…mood.”
“Very well. Mr. Wolcroft?”
“Notoriously tight with his money.” He signaled a passing waiter and handed him their now-empty glasses.
“Lord Milton?”
“Devoted to gambling.” He leaned toward her in a conspiratorial manner. “And not very good at it either.”
“Viscount Smithfield?”
Robert grimaced. “Nasty temper.”
“The Earl of Rosebury?”
“Overly attached to his mother.”
“Baron Copely?”
“Handsome enough but of less than average intelligence.” Robert shook his head. “No, no, none of these will do.”
“My goodness.” She flipped open her fan in an innocent manner and waved it idly. “This is a problem.”
“Not at all. I have the perfect prospect.”
“Oh?”
He glanced around the room. “I see him now. I suggest the two of you start your liaison with a dance.”
She laughed. “You can’t possibly think I am going to accept some man you have selected for me?”
“You’ll accept this one. He’s charming and amusing. He has a great deal of experience with women. And even better”—Robert grinned—“he looks exactly like me.”
“Surely you’re not talking about Harry?”
“Oh, but I am. He’ll suit beautifully.”
“Harry,” she said thoughtfully, then smiled. “Excellent choice.”
“I thought so.” Robert’s manner was decidedly smug. “I shall be happy to fetch him for you.”
“How considerate of you. And most appreciated, I might add.”
“I am nothing if not considerate.” He nodded and started off.
Damnable man. What was he up to now? Of course, the answer was obvious, and she should have realized it at once. Robert had selected Harry for her for much the same reasons she had selected Harry. Even if Harry refused to accept it, he could indeed be trusted by both of them. Robert had no idea Harry had once sought to gain her affection, and might well change his mind about Harry’s trustworthiness if he knew. Amelia had no intention to ever inform him otherwise. Aside from the harm it would do their relationship, it was nice to know she always had something that could be held over Harry’s head, should the need to do so ever again arise.
Robert made his way around the room until he reached his brother, a scant dozen yards away, speaking with a lovely woman Amelia didn’t know. They exchanged words; Harry glanced at her, nodded, and started in her direction, but her attention remained on her husband. Who was that woman? Robert took her hand and raised it to his lips. Light flashed off the woman’s wrist, off a bracelet that even at this distance was distinct. Amelia’s breath caught. Was this then his mistress? A moment later Robert swept the lady onto the dance floor. Amelia was hard pressed to take her eyes off the couple.
Harry reached her side. “Amelia, I have given your plan a great deal of thought and—”
“Harry, who is that?” she said abruptly.
“Who is who?”
“The woman dancing with Robert.” She swallowed hard.
“Lady Deering?”
“That’s her, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed her.” He chuckled. “She’s lovely, isn’t she? And a widow. I do so like widows. The very moment I can dispose of this nonsense between you and my brother, I intend to devote all of my time and attention to her.”
She stared at her brother-in-law. “Why would you devote your time and attention to Robert’s mistress?”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Well, then—”
“However, as that is not Robert’s mistress, as he doesn’t have a mistress, there are no impediments to making her mine.”
“But she’s wearing the bracelet.”
“Which cost me a pretty penny.” He shook his head. “I tell you, Amelia, it’s not enough to simply be charming and witty. There are certain procedures for getting a woman into your bed. Flowers, notes of affection—preferably with a
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