Читать книгу The Unexpected Heiress - Kaitlin O'Riley - Страница 13

5

The Writing on the Wall

“Have you seen the latest American heiress to grace our fair city?” Edward Ainsworth asked as he adjusted his black cravat and smoothed his blond hair.

Phillip Sinclair sipped a glass of scotch as his eyes scanned the ballroom. “Can’t say that I have.”

He wasn’t terribly interested in wealthy American girls looking to marry into the British aristocracy. There’d been such a slew of them lately. No, he had his eyes on a far more seductive prize than an American debutante on the prowl for an Englishman with a title.

He was searching for Lady Katherine Vickers. After that dreadful scene with his mother earlier that afternoon, he’d gone to see Katherine, but she hadn’t been home. Phillip left word with Katherine’s butler that he’d see her this evening at the Braithwaites’ ball. But as he glanced around the grand ballroom yet again, he still had not found her among the throng of elegantly attired guests.

“Well, everyone has been buzzing about this Miss Remington. She’s a real stunner too. And worth millions in oil, I hear. I must admit that I wouldn’t mind lining my pockets with all those American dollars, while having a woman like that warm my bed at night.” With a knowing look, Edward Ainsworth motioned toward the far end of the ballroom.

Phillip idly turned his gaze to see a true beauty.

Miss Remington stood almost regally among a throng of admiring males. In a gorgeous gown of pale pink silk with black lace accents on the edges, she stood out from all the other debutantes. But the gown wasn’t the reason no one could take their eyes from her.

It was the way she carried herself. The sumptuous gown was a mere accent to her slim and shapely figure and flawless ivory complexion. Thick, lustrous hair, the color of chestnut, was styled in curls upon her head, exposing the graceful curve of her neck. Her face was incredibly beautiful, from the tilt of her elegant little nose to the determined point of her sweet chin. Wide blue eyes, fringed with thick lashes, danced with merriment, and the hint of a smile played around her luscious lips. Those lips . . . those eyes...

He’d most definitely seen them before. Earlier that day in fact.

At his mother’s bookshop.

Phillip grinned in satisfaction. He was correct. The pretty girl he had shamelessly flirted with earlier that afternoon was an American. And apparently, an heiress. Not that that mattered to him. Unlike some of his friends, Phillip’s father kept the family estate not only solvent, but also very profitable. Phillip had no need to marry for money.

Still, he was intrigued by the girl who had rebuffed him so carelessly in the bookshop. He liked that she wasn’t in awe of his status when most people fawned all over him. In fact, she most likely had no knowledge of who he was. But she would learn in due time.

What had those children called her? Mer . . . Merry? Merry! That was it! So the beautiful heiress over there was Miss Merry Remington from the United States. And as his friend had remarked, she was, indeed, quite a stunner.

The woman would have no lack of admirers, either, broke or not. Some lucky man would snap her up right away. She’d be married off in a matter of weeks.

An odd sensation pulled at his chest at the thought of her being married. Startled, he shook off the feeling and remarked to Edward, “Yes, she’s quite the catch.”

“I’m going to make an offer for her.”

“You haven’t even met her!” Phillip exclaimed after laughing at his friend. “You know nothing about her, Ainsworth. She could be a dreadful harridan.”

Even though Phillip instinctively knew she wasn’t, simply from their brief encounter in the bookshop, he unexpectedly bristled at his friend’s careless perusal of her.

“Doesn’t matter. With that beautiful face and body and all that money . . . She could be a witch, and I wouldn’t care.” Edward Ainsworth, already tall and lanky, stood straighter as he spoke. “Let’s go wrangle an introduction. There’s no time to lose. I already see our old chum Wilkerson sniffing around her. We can’t have that now. She deserves far better than the likes of him.”

Phillip followed after his friend, intrigued by the thought of formally meeting the bookshop girl. As they drew closer to the beautiful American and the group surrounding her, Edward sidled right up to one of the two matrons who watched over the girl like a hawk. Phillip vaguely recognized the older, stouter one.

“Good evening, Lady Eastwood.” Edward bowed in deference to the rather plump woman.

“Good evening, Edward. How is your dear mother?” Lady Eastwood asked.

“She’s doing very well.” Edward smiled, but his eyes were on the beautiful young woman in pink. “But I must say you’re looking quite splendid tonight.”

“You can stop with the flattery, Edward,” the woman responded wryly. “I gather that you and Lord Waverly here would like an introduction to my lovely niece from America. Well, she’s not actually my niece, she’s my sister Delilah’s niece, but I shall introduce you to her just the same. Delilah, I’d like you to meet Lord Ainsworth and his friend, Lord Waverly. Gentlemen, this is my sister, Mrs. Delilah Remington, and her niece, Miss Meredith Remington, from New York City.”

Phillip watched with anticipation as Miss Remington and her two aunts spoke with Edward.

She truly was a pretty thing, quite lovely really. There was something about how she moved, how she carried herself, that drew him in. When she finally turned to greet him, he was momentarily stunned by the disdainful look in her eyes.

And he was oddly disappointed that she did not seem to recognize him.

Did she truly not recall their little encounter? Was he that forgettable? Phillip was not inclined to think so. Practically all the females he met, young and old, fawned over him. For what was there not to fawn over? He was a young, handsome, wealthy, and very eligible member of the aristocracy. And he was charming to boot.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Remington,” he said, acting as if he had not seen her in the shop earlier that day.

“Good evening . . . Lord Waverly, was it?” she murmured carelessly before dismissing him entirely by turning her attention back to Ainsworth.

Edward was almost giddy with the attention she paid to him, and before Phillip knew what had happened, Miss Meredith Remington, the oil heiress from New York, was on the dance floor with his penniless friend. Phillip watched them carefully while he made small talk with Mrs. Remington and Lady Eastwood, and then he walked to the edge of the ballroom. He had a much better view of the waltzing couple from there.

Miss Remington was quite graceful as she stepped easily in time with the music. Was Ainsworth holding her a little too closely? There should be a more respectable space between them, certainly. Shouldn’t her aunt step in and separate them?

“There you are, Phillip, darling.”

The sultry voice filled him with excitement, and he knew Lady Katherine Vickers was standing behind him. Her ample breasts brushed up against his back.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she murmured softly, pressing herself against him.

His heart rate increased at her words. She had been looking for him. Now that was more like it. He turned to face her. “Well, it seems you have found me.”

A slow smile lit up her pretty face. In her sophisticated jade ball gown, with her golden blond hair done up around her head, she appeared to be a proper lady. Quite different from the wanton, naked woman he had had his way with just two nights ago.

She leaned ever so slightly closer to him and said in a breathless whisper, “I’m lucky to have finally found you, for I have missed you greatly, and later this evening I intend to show you just how much I’ve been longing for you.”

“Then by all means, show me,” he responded, wishing he could wrap her up in his arms and kiss her senseless, as he’d done on more than one occasion.

With a satisfied smile, Katherine added in a throaty whisper, “Come to my house at midnight after we have left this dismal little party. I shall make you very, very glad that you did.”

“How can I resist such an offer? I’ll be there.” Phillip watched her saunter out of the ballroom. He checked his gold pocket watch. It was only nine-thirty. How would he survive until midnight?

* * *

Meredith Remington watched in fascination as Lord Waverly spoke with the willowy blonde in the corner of the ballroom. She had been right.

The dashingly handsome man from the bookshop was a pompous English lord!

He had been so smug when she’d been introduced to him, that she had to fight the impulse to smack him. It seemed he had expected her to ignore his brazen behavior that afternoon and fawn all over him like every other woman he’d ever met. She’d seen it in his expression, the recognition, when he saw her. Meredith decided not to give him the satisfaction.

So she ignored him and acted as if she’d never laid eyes on him before. He looked dumbfounded when she favored his tall friend with her attention instead.

It felt good to take him down a peg. It probably didn’t happen often enough to him.

Oh, but he was so incredibly handsome! In his evening clothes he looked even more dashing and debonair than he had earlier that afternoon. He really would make the most perfect-looking hero in a novel. In fact, she had decided that she would rewrite the current blond hero in The Edge of Danger, so he looked exactly like Lord Waverly. But ever so much nicer.

As she danced with Lord Ainsworth, she noted that Lord Waverly watched them very closely. His studied interest in her was a bit unsettling. Was it because he was a little smitten with her or simply interested in her supposed inheritance? Her curiosity piqued when the elegant blonde came over and whispered something in his ear. What on earth had she said to make him grin like that? The man’s smile could light up a darkened cave!

“Have you been in London very long, Miss Remington?” Lord Ainsworth asked.

His voice grabbed Meredith’s attention away from wondering what Lord Waverly and the lovely blond woman were up to together.

“My aunt and I have been here only a week, but I’m enjoying it very much,” she murmured half-heartedly, with a bright smile pasted on her face.

In truth, she longed to be back in New York, but she was trying to make the best of the situation. Having to pretend that she was an heiress when she was not one only complicated matters. Lord Ainsworth seemed quite nice and even attractive, if a lady preferred her gentleman to be extremely tall and thin.

As the dance moved on, she began to wonder, So just exactly what am I supposed to do now?

Aunt Delilah’s sister, Lady Eastwood, had arranged for Meredith to be introduced into London society this evening, and the plan required her to try to become engaged to the wealthiest man she could in the shortest amount of time. The quicker, the better, before anyone discovered the truth about their dire financial situation.

How was Meredith supposed to discern who had great wealth and who didn’t? It looked like everyone in that ballroom fairly dripped with money. But as Meredith knew all too well, looks could be deceiving.

Now take this nice young man who had clearly shown interest in her. Did Lord Ainsworth have money? Or was he merely after hers? And how would she know the difference? And how would one of these fine English lords feel when they discovered that Meredith was not, as it turned out, an heiress after all?

For the plan called for them to suddenly receive a telegram, right after the wedding, declaring that the Remington Oil Company was bankrupt.

It seemed an awful plan to Meredith, but her aunt had given her no other alternative. And in the end, she supposed it was no worse than being forced into an arranged marriage. At least this way she was allowed some say in whom she married.

In the meantime, what else was there for Meredith to do?

As she looked this lanky man up and down, she tried to assess his character, if not his bank account. Would Lord Ainsworth make a good husband? Would he care for her? Would he support her writing career? Would this sandy-haired man with the too-wide smile and kind eyes be the man she would be tied to for the rest of her life?

The thought sobered her.

This London Season was a serious business.

Marriages were being brokered in every corner as young girls in their debut season preened and the women in their last season looked desperate, while the anxious mothers assessed and appraised and the eligible gentlemen looking to wed scrutinized and judged. In truth, Meredith was no different than any other young lady in attendance at the Braithwaites’ ball.

She was there looking to find a husband.

The very thought tied her stomach into tight little knots.

The dance ended and Lord Ainsworth escorted her back to Lavinia. After she thanked him for the dance, Lavinia shook her head. “No,” she whispered so only Meredith could hear. “His family is on the brink of ruin.”

With a heavy heart, Meredith watched Lord Ainsworth head toward his friend, the pompous earl.

It seemed that poor Ainsworth was in the same predicament as she was. He needed to marry someone with money to save his family, just as she did. Apparently, that was the way of the world. Perhaps she would write a story about young women marrying for money when she finished The Edge of Danger. She’d call it, Mercenary Maidens. Then she laughed in spite of herself.

“He seemed rather nice though,” she said to Lavinia.

“Yes, he’s a nice young man, Meredith, but don’t waste your time on the likes of him.” Lavinia smoothed her hand over her ashy blond hair that was similar to Aunt Delilah’s. “There’s no future in it.”

“Where is Aunt Delilah?” asked Meredith, glancing around.

Lavinia pointed to the dance floor. “She’s with Nicholas Clark. He’s an old suitor of hers, from before she left for America.”

Tiny, five-foot-one Delilah Remington was dancing with a six-foot tall man. An incongruous sight! He was an older man, graying around the temples, but quite dignified looking. Meredith grinned at them. Delilah was as determined to find herself a new husband as she was at finding one for her niece.

“Let’s get some punch, shall we, Meredith?” Lavinia suggested, her chubby face showing signs of perspiration. “It’s rather warm in here.”

Meredith had begun to follow, when a tall, broad, male figure stepped in front of her.

“Excuse me, Miss Remington. May I have the honor of the next dance with you?” a deep, rich voice asked.

It was the handsome and pompous earl!

In spite of Lavinia’s vigorous nods of encouragement, which declared Lord Waverly as an acceptable dance partner, Meredith’s first instinct was to refuse him. How she longed to spurn his offer, if only to see a look of surprised indignation on his smug, handsome face!

But his gorgeous green eyes boldly dared her to dance with him. They glittered with amusement and superiority as if to say, are you afraid? Meredith was not one to back down from a challenge. She glared at him, piercing him with her frostiest stare, leaving him with no doubt about how little she thought of him.

“Yes, you may.”

With that brisk acceptance, Meredith walked with him to the dance floor just as a waltz began.

As they took their positions and his arm encircled her waist, a little thrill went through her. Just the touch of his gloved hand against hers sent a shiver of delight coursing through her body. He smelled good too. She recalled that from seeing him earlier that day. Was it bergamot? She wasn’t sure. The man was so startlingly handsome. The force of it momentarily knocked her off balance, and she stumbled awkwardly.

One dark eyebrow rose in question and he paused while she righted herself. “Are you quite all right?” he asked in mock innocence. “Do you require assistance?”

“I am just fine, thank you.”

She was mortified, but would not give him the satisfaction, although she sensed that he already knew. Her cheeks turned scarlet, and she avoided looking directly at him.

They began to move in time with the lilting music.

She hated to admit it, but he was an excellent dance partner. He had a firm grip on her, yet it was a light touch. His movements were commanding but not pushy. He was graceful while at the same time entirely masculine. He knew exactly what he was doing. Unlike Lord Ainsworth, who floundered about more than he actually led her, Lord Waverly was quite accomplished. In fact, he was perfect. Drat him!

“You don’t like me, do you?”

She looked up at him then. He was grinning at her, his dimple flashing and his eyes full of amusement. It was quite dizzying to look in his eyes.

“What gave it away?” she responded dryly.

He laughed then. Actually threw back his head and laughed.

The sound of his laughter warmed her. He had such a wonderfully shaped mouth, and she idly wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him, a man who knew what he was doing. And Lord Waverly clearly seemed like a man who knew what he was doing. It would be something special to be kissed by him.

Meredith! She mentally shook herself at her wayward thoughts.

“Why is that so funny?” she asked when he finally composed himself.

“Because you’re honest.”

“And that amuses you?”

He looked at her quite earnestly. “No, it’s not funny in that sense. However, I find your honesty refreshing. You don’t hide your feelings, unlike most women I’ve met. I know you don’t like me, and you didn’t deflect when I called you out on it.”

“You’re a very odd man.”

He laughed again. “I admit I have never been called odd before. So now you must tell me . . . why don’t you like me? Is it because I was staring at you in the bookshop?”

“You were rather rude,” she pointed out. Did she not like him? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps she liked him a little bit.

He twirled with her so gracefully, she felt as if she were flying. Meredith had danced with dozens of gentlemen back in New York, but Lord Waverly was by far the best partner. Never had she so enjoyed a dance. She found herself wishing the waltz wouldn’t end.

“Perhaps it was rude of me to stare,” he offered.

“It was more than staring. It was ogling.”

“But you smiled at me when I ogled you.”

“I did no such thing!” she protested. “You smiled at me after you winked at me.”

“Because I could tell that you liked when I winked at you.”

“That’s not true in the least.” Meredith stared at him in fascination. “My, my, you are full of yourself. Your vanity knows no limits.”

Again he smiled at her and she was enchanted by him.

He said in a low voice, “Did you ever think it was your fault, Miss Remington?”

“My fault?” She almost laughed. “How would your rudeness be my fault?”

He gave her a pointed look. “You are most definitely a beautiful woman. Your beauty captivated me, and I could not look away. I was helpless. The blame is clearly at your feet.”

Ignoring the giddiness that spread through her at his words, Meredith rolled her eyes at him. “If you think I shall fall for your arrogant charm, you are sadly mistaken, Lord Waverly.”

Again, he flashed that devilish smile. “Good girl! I was just testing you!”

“And clearly, I passed.” She grinned back at him. She couldn’t help herself. His smile was so irresistibly charming.

“Clearly.”

“Do you test all the women you dance with?”

“Just the ones who stare right back at me in a bookshop.”

They both gazed into each other’s eyes then. She recognized the admiration she saw within their green depths. Meredith felt her pulse race unexpectedly.

“I liked that you stared back at me,” he said in a low voice.

“Then I wish I had not done so.”

“But you did,” he reminded her, raising and lowering his eyebrows. “Because you couldn’t help yourself.”

“I stared because I was stunned by your boldness. There’s a difference.”

“You stared at me because I’m a handsome devil.”

“You are the most conceited man,” she said. But she grinned at him while she said it.

“Guilty as charged.” He winked at her again. “But you also know I’m right.”

Luckily for Meredith, the waltz came to its inevitable end before she could respond to him. Her heart was pounding, and her cheeks were hot, so flustered was she by their conversation.

She’d never bantered with a gentleman like that before and had found it thrilling. She’d attended a few dances in New York but had never met anyone remotely like Lord Waverly. He irritated and attracted her at the same time.

With his hand on her arm, he escorted her back to where Delilah was now standing with her sister Lavinia, both of them regarding her intently.

“Thank you for a lovely dance, Miss Remington.” Lord Waverly bowed elegantly, and she caught his eyes. They flickered with amusement.

“Thank you, Lord Waverly.”

He wished her and both of her aunts a good evening and left them. Meredith watched him walk away with an odd mix of regret and relief. He had been a wonderful dancer. And as much as she hated to admit it, she had enjoyed herself with him, in spite of his being an insufferable flirt and vain rogue.

“Oh, he’d be a good catch!” Lavinia exclaimed, with a spark of excitement in her eyes. “He’s from a good family, and they have lots of money. And a simply gorgeous house in Mayfair!”

“And he’s ever so handsome, Meredith!” Delilah smiled with undiluted glee. “I hope he decides to call on you!”

Meredith froze at her aunt’s words.

To be pursued by the pompous lord filled her with trepidation. She couldn’t imagine being married to a man so full of himself, no matter how handsome, charming, and fascinating he was. A man like that would demand too much of her attention and would never allow her to write. His ego would not allow it.

With a heavy sigh, Meredith pasted a smile on her face as she met her next dance partner.

* * *

“Who was that you were dancing with this evening? The pretty brunette?” Lady Katherine Vickers asked him later that same night, when they were alone in her bedroom.

“Just the newest young heiress from America looking for an English title.”

Phillip shrugged carelessly as he eyed the front of Katherine’s low-cut gown. Her body was a delicious temptation. He reached out a hand to tug down the front of her jade-colored dress.

“Then it’s a good thing I already have a title,” she retorted in a breathy voice.

“Is that right, my lady?” he said, as he ushered her closer to the massive four-poster bed draped with pink velvet curtains that dominated her luxurious bedroom.

She began to breathe heavily. “I am your lady.”

Had she emphasized that she belonged to him or had he only heard what he wanted to hear? He thought of what his mother had mentioned to him earlier. That Katherine was telling her friends that she would marry him.

“Are you mine, Kitty?”

The words flew from his lips before he was able to stop them. He almost wished he could take them back. Almost. Phillip held his breath while he waited impatiently for her answer.

“Phillip, you know I am yours, but . . .”

A pretty pout crossed her face as she loosened her thick blond hair from the pins that held it in place on top of her head. She gave her head a little shake and her hair cascaded around her shoulders in silken golden waves.

“But what?” he asked, mesmerized by her erotic movements. He reached out to touch her hair.

She pulled away from him and sat upon the edge of the bed. “I don’t like you dancing with that young girl.”

His heart leapt with joy. Katherine was jealous! Of the American oil heiress, of all women. He smiled at her and said teasingly, “Why not? Are you afraid she’ll steal me away from you?”

She turned to look directly at him. “Yes. I am.”

Oh, how he’d longed to hear these words from her! For months she’d kept him on pins and needles, never knowing if she would see him or not. She blew hot and cold, and he had no way of knowing what to expect from her. But now . . . now he had the upper hand. He finally had Lady Katherine Vickers’s attention.

She wanted him.

Katherine crossed her arms across her chest, which only amplified her cleavage, pushing her breasts almost up and out of her gown. The motion distracted him for a moment.

“Why are you afraid?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Because you’re mine, Phillip. . . . And I want us to be together.”

“We are together,” he said. He was baiting her, and she knew it.

“For now.” She gave him an arch look.

“For now,” he echoed calmly.

“And what about the future?” she asked.

“What about it?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.

“Phillip, are you going to make me say it?” She was irritated with him now. “Then fine. I’ll say it. Are we going to get married?”

“I don’t know that we need to marry. I like things as they are between us. But then again, I wouldn’t rule anything out, Kitty.”

He kissed her to keep her from talking about it anymore. He truly did not wish to marry her, or anyone else for that matter. But he liked knowing that he could have her if he wanted to, after she had played so many games with him.

It was good to have some of his power back.