The Unexpected Heiress

by Kaitlin O’Riley

  “I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t recall you meeting you, Lord Sinclair,” she apologized.

  “You didn’t tell me you’ve been participating in the Season, Meredith!” Colette exclaimed in surprise. “How wonderful!”

  “There’s no need for apologies, Miss Remington,” Simon explained kindly. “We were not introduced. But I did happen to see you dancing there that evening. You are a very beautiful woman, and you were the belle of the ball. Everyone has been saying so.”

  Had she been the belle of the ball? Meredith certainly hadn’t felt like one.

  What she’d felt like was a terrible imposter and a liar.

  The only reason all those gentlemen had wanted to dance with her was because they believed her to be an oil heiress, dripping with American dollars. It was all a dreadful lie and she cringed at the deceitful trap she was perpetuating. Yet oddly enough, she was the one who felt trapped.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Meredith murmured, feeling very embarrassed. “In any case, I don’t see myself that way, and I would rather not have all that attention.”

  Simon eyed her closely, as if assessing her. Meredith almost felt as if he could see through her ruse. Shame crept over her. Somehow, Simon knew she was putting up a pretense about who she really was. Yet how was such a thing possible?

  “You are too modest, Meredith darling,” Colette remarked. “And I don’t doubt for an instant that you were a social success! You’d be a catch for any gentleman lucky enough to have you. But you seemed so focused on your writing that I didn’t realize you were in the market for a husband.”

  “I’m not, actually,” Meredith protested quickly, the truth escaping before she could stop herself.

  The last thing she wanted was to marry some stuffy, old Englishman who wouldn’t allow her to be a writer. She wasn’t interested in being a wife and mother. At least not for a few more years yet. She wanted to live her own life. She wanted to be a writer, a true author. She wanted her book published.

  She wished she could say all those things. She wished desperately to explain herself to this kind and welcoming family.

  Instead, she just added hastily, “But my aunt thinks it’s high time that I marry.”

  Colette nodded in sympathy. “I understand that, believe me. I had an uncle who decided when it was time that I wed. Do you recall that, Lucien?”

  “How could I forget, my love?” Lucien Sinclair eyed his wife with affection.

  “Is that how the two of you first met?” Meredith asked, eager to change the subject away from her life. “At a Season ball?”

  “No, that was later on. We first met when Lucien wandered into my bookshop one afternoon and fell madly in love with me, and then he tried in vain to deny it.” She glanced flirtatiously at her husband.

  Lucien laughed at his wife’s accounting of their story. “I’m afraid it’s all true. My wife bewitched me. But I don’t regret it at all. In fact, I count myself as quite a lucky man, Miss Remington.”

  “Miss Remington?!” exclaimed an incredulous male voice from the doorway.

  Meredith glanced up to see none other than Lord Waverly, the pompous and handsome English lord himself, standing in the entrance to the Devon House library.

  What on earth is he doing here?

  “Lord Waverly?” she squeaked in astonishment as she rose from her seat on the leather sofa. “What are you doing here?”

  He was as gorgeous as ever. His dark black hair slicked back neatly from his clean-shaven face. His green eyes sparked with surprise as he stared at her.

  “I live here,” he said, walking toward her with purposeful strides. “What are you doing here?”

  “Colette invited me.”

  “My mother?”

  His mother? Colette Sinclair is Lord Waverly’s mother?

  Speechless, Meredith reeled with the unexpected discovery. How could the lovely Colette have raised such a pompous son? But it did explain why Simon and Lucien Sinclair looked so familiar to her! They were Lord Waverly’s brother and father. It all made sense to her now.

  Lord Waverly came to a stop directly in front of her.

  Her heart pounded wildly in her chest at his closeness. He smelled so nice, and the delighted smile on his face made her feel slightly giddy. It suddenly felt as if they were the only two people in the room.

  “You?” he asked incredulously. “You’re the little writer that my mother befriended?”

  He impulsively reached out and took both of her hands in his.

  Holding his hands felt like the most natural thing in the world. His hands were warm and strong and masculine. They seemed to fit her hands perfectly.

  “It seems that I am.” She giggled like a silly little girl. Had she lost complete control of her senses?

  “I had no idea that you were a writer,” he said with a note of awe in his rich voice.

  “How could you know? The subject never came up between us.”

  “I find that irresistibly fascinating about you. What kind of stories do you write?”

  “At the moment, I’m writing a mystery novel.”

  “A book? How clever you are! You must let me read it!”

  Meredith laughed a bit nervously again. It all seemed surreal. He was so obviously happy to see her. He was charming and warm and not pompous in the least.

  “Maybe I’ll let you read it when it’s finished. I’ll have to think about it for a bit.” Was she babbling like an idiot?

  “I’m just so thrilled to see you here. It’s an unexpected and wonderful surprise. When my mother asked me to join her for tea to meet her new writing protégé, I expected some boring, dull, and bespectacled girl. And I’d bet she’d be unattractive to boot. I never dreamed it would be you, the loveliest dance partner I’ve ever had the pleasure to waltz with.”

  He grinned at her and gave her hands the slightest squeeze.

  “Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see you here either. I had no idea you were Colette’s son.”

  “That fact confounds many people.”

  His winning smile and dimples seemed to blind her. She was dizzy with the sight of him.

  “So tell me,” he continued smoothly, “Miss Meredith Remington, how goes the husband search? Do you have any need of my assistance yet? Please promise me that you’ll stay away from that bounder, Lord Hampton.”

  This time Meredith laughed for real. Why did it feel so good to have him hold her hands this way?

  “I promise,” she said. “I’ve no interest in the likes of Lord Hampton.”

  “Whom do you have an interest in, if I may ask so bold a question?”

  His eyes were fixed on her, and she could not look away if she tried. And she did not wish to try. They simply stood there and stared at each other.

  Meredith felt so unlike herself. He still held her hands in his and it didn’t feel strange in the least. In fact, his touch was welcomed. His strength seemed to fortify her somehow, when she suddenly felt so unstable.

  Whom do you have an interest in?

  That question! Biting her lower lip, Meredith had to restrain herself from whispering, you. It was so utterly ridiculous. She didn’t even like the man! Well, she supposed that wasn’t exactly true any longer. He’d kind of grown on her.

  “It’s not so much whom I have an interest in, but who has taken an interest in me,” she managed to whisper.

  “Is it the Duke of Havenfield?” he asked.

  He knew! So he had been watching out for her after all. She nodded, for she could not formulate the words to answer his question.

  “Yes, well, he’d be quite an excellent catch,” Lord Waverly admitted, a bit impressed. “In spite of his advanced age and four children. Of course, he’s not as handsome as I am, but he’d do.”

  “So you approve then?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t disapprove.” He grinned again. “He’s not a fortune hunter, which is good. But I’d be hard pressed to find a man in this town good enough for a wom
an like you, Miss Remington.”

  As he spoke, Meredith found herself transfixed by his mouth.

  He had perfect lips for a man. They looked soft and inviting. She wondered what it would be like to have him kiss her.

  She had never been kissed before, and she’d always been curious what all the fuss was about. Yet she instinctively knew that Lord Waverly would be a good kisser. He had a way about him that exuded confidence, and she guessed that he was most likely very skilled in the area of kissing women.

  He was so close to her, if she just leaned in a little bit more toward him, he could easily kiss her if he wanted.

  It was then she made the mistake of looking into his eyes again.

  Oh, good heavens... He was looking at her as if he did want to kiss her. There was a flash of desire so intense she didn’t need to question what it meant. The man wanted her! The pompous English lord wanted to kiss her!

  Without quite realizing it, she leaned a little toward him and closed her eyes. Would he kiss her? She could just imagine the thrill of his lips against hers and could barely catch her breath at the thought.

  As if from far way, someone cleared their throat rather loudly.

  “So, it seems the two of you have met each other before today.”

  Meredith’s eyes flew open and her stomach dropped to her feet in abject humiliation.

  She took a step back and pulled her hands away from Lord Waverly’s as she suddenly came to her senses and recalled with utter horror that they were not alone! They were most definitely not alone! How could she have forgotten such a thing?

  Lord Waverly’s eyes also looked startled, as if he, too, had forgotten that his family was in the room with them.

  Oh, dear heavens! She had just leaned in for a kiss in full view of his entire family. They must think her an awful, wanton woman. Wishing nothing more than to hang her head in shame and slink from the room, Meredith froze in embarrassment.

  And just like that, Lord Waverly diffused the situation with his infectious charm. He threw back his head and laughed. With an easy movement, he helped her sit back down on the sofa and sat beside her.

  “Oh, yes,” he answered breezily to the stunned faces of his mother, father, and brother. “Miss Remington and I have met each other on a few occasions.”

  “When did you first meet each other?” Simon asked, looking completely intrigued.

  Meredith spoke up. “It was in the bookshop, oddly enough.”

  “At Hamilton’s Book Shoppe?” Colette exclaimed, her expression bemused.

  “Yes, but let us say we simply noticed each other there,” Lord Waverly explained with a careless wave of his hand. “We weren’t properly introduced until later that evening at Lady Braithwaite’s ball. Miss Remington was surrounded by at least a dozen men, all vying for her attention, but I managed to snare a coveted dance with her.”

  “I simply had no idea,” his mother murmured in disbelief, staring at her son.

  “The two of them made quite an attractive pair on the dance floor, I might add.” Simon eyed them both carefully.

  Suddenly, Meredith knew why Lord Waverly’s brother had acted as if he knew her when he walked in. Simon had seen her dancing with his brother.

  “I think it’s wonderful that the two of you already know each other.” Colette looked delighted. “It seems as though you—”

  Phillip interrupted his mother with breezy confidence. “Yes, Mother, you see I’ve been giving Miss Remington advice about her prospective suitors. She’s in the market for a husband, and we wouldn’t want a special girl like her to marry just anyone. Especially not a fortune-hunting scoundrel. She’s an American oil heiress, aren’t you, Miss Remington?” He turned and gazed at Meredith.

  Again, she felt her heart sink at the words oil heiress. It was such a dreadful lie. But she nodded woodenly in agreement. She simply couldn’t bring herself to say the words aloud. In fact, no one had yet asked her directly if she was an oil heiress. Lord Waverly was the first, and she hated lying to him.

  “Well, it’s no wonder she has dozens of suitors then. It’s kind of you to look out for her, Phillip,” his father said. “She will need your sound advice.”

  Phillip. His name was Phillip.

  Meredith had thought of him as the pompous lord for so long, she hadn’t given his first name any consideration. But his name suited him. Phillip Sinclair. And perhaps he wasn’t as pompous as she first believed him to be.

  Phillip began helping himself to some lemon teacakes. “Have you had some of these yet, Miss Remington? They’re really quite delicious, and they happen to be my favorite.” He made a plate for her and gave her a reassuring smile.

  He acted as if they both hadn’t just embarrassed themselves in front of his parents and brother, and Meredith secretly blessed him for it.

  What had just happened between them? She couldn’t even begin to explain the feelings that rushed through her when he entered the library. It was like nothing she had ever felt before.

  She would have to write about it in her journal just as soon as she got home. Feelings this incredible, if she was able to describe them accurately, could be very useful in one of her books someday.

  “So, please tell me,” he asked in a conversational tone, “how did you and my mother happen to find each other?”

  “She found me sitting at a table in her bookshop, writing,” Meredith explained, feeling oddly comfortable and at home with this kind, warm, and generous family that she had only just met.

  It almost felt as if she belonged there.

  10

  Take a Page from My Book

  “You know that they worry about you.”

  Phillip took the glass of fine scotch his uncle Jeffrey handed to him, as they sat in his uncle’s study sharing a drink together.

  “Yes, of course I know that, Uncle. But there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “I can see that, but they can’t.” Jeffrey Eddington, the Duke of Rathmore, acknowledged him with a slight nod of his head.

  Phillip’s Uncle Jeffrey was a handsome man in his fifties, married to Colette’s youngest sister and the father of three adorable girls, all four of whom had him wrapped around their little fingers.

  “If my parents are going to worry about anyone, it should be Simon,” Phillip said. “Not me. I’m fine.”

  Phillip wondered how he came to be alone with his uncle, discussing his behavior of late. The rest of his family was gathered in the parlor, playing cards, talking, and enjoying themselves after they had dined together.

  It was their usual monthly dinner, with all the Hamilton aunts, uncles, and cousins under one roof. These dinners had been a tradition his entire life, and he loved spending time with his cousins. Most often, the dinners were held at Devon House, but this evening it happened to be at his aunt Yvette and uncle Jeffrey’s house.

  “Simon?” Jeffrey’s brows rose in question.

  Phillip gave his uncle a knowing look. “I won’t say anything more. But I think you know what I’m referring to where Simon is concerned.”

  Jeffrey sighed in resignation. “I don’t see anything about Simon for us to worry over. You are currently the one who has your parents on edge.”

  “Yes, supposedly because of my drinking, gambling, and staying out too late, which pretty much all of my friends are doing. No, the true reason they are so worried about me is because they want me to stay away from Lady Katherine Vickers.” Phillip knew he sounded like a pouty child and he didn’t particularly like it, but he could not stop himself.

  “I’ve met her once or twice,” Jeffrey commented. “She seems like a lovely enough person.”

  Katherine was lovely. It was amazing to Phillip that no one seemed to see Katherine’s finer qualities except him.

  Everyone believed her to be nothing more than a vain, coarse, greedy, social-climbing vixen. Katherine was born into unfortunate circumstances and had to fight her way out of poverty, but that was nothing to hold against her. She us
ed her talents to survive.

  Was it her fault that a rich man fell in love with her while she was dancing on stage and married her two weeks later? Was it her fault that her husband died, leaving her a beautiful widow, defenseless against the harsh words and vile slander from the bitter old gossips of London?

  No. None of that was her fault. Lady Katherine Vickers was a victim of heartless rumors and vicious innuendo by judgmental society matrons who had nothing better to do with their time than gossip about her.

  “She is very lovely,” Phillip muttered. Well, that was, she was lovely when she wanted to be. When Katherine was getting her own way, she was divine. But when she wasn’t . . .

  “Are you thinking of marrying her?” Jeffrey asked, his eyes narrowing on him.

  His parents feared that Phillip would marry her. That was the crux of the issue. Phillip shook his head. He didn’t want to marry anyone just yet.

  “I’m aware that they want me to settle down and find a wife, and I understand that. I know my duty as the heir, and one day I will do just that. But now it seems that they want to choose whom I marry.”

  “They don’t want to choose her for you, Phillip,” his uncle said in calm voice. “They just want you to choose a woman who won’t become a mistake you’ll come to regret one day.”

  “Katherine would be a mistake, then?” he asked, unable to keep the harshness from his voice.

  “Since I don’t know that much about her personally, I can’t say for certain,” Jeffrey said evenly. “Your mother seems to think Katherine would be a terrible mistake for you, and I would trust her opinion. Colette is a very intelligent and insightful woman. I’d trust her with my life. In fact, I have.”

  Phillip turned sharply to look at his uncle. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve known your mother for a very long time, Phillip. She was my friend at a time when I didn’t have many true friends in my life. I was scorned as the bastard son of the Duke of Rathmore. But your mother included me as a part of this family even before I married her younger sister. Marrying Yvette simply made it all legitimate, I guess. But I was a lonely man, and I’d never belonged to a family before, let alone one as warm and wonderful as these five incredible Hamilton sisters.... They gave me my life.” Jeffrey sipped his scotch slowly.