“So, Miss Hamilton.” William Weatherly smiled at her, his hazel eyes twinkling. “I am more intrigued by you by the minute. Please tell me more about your life at your family’s bookshop.”
3
A Gentleman’s Wager
Jeffrey Eddington spent the rest of the evening covertly watching Yvette Hamilton. After all, he had promised Lucien that he would. Not that keeping his eyes on Yvette was a hardship. She looked like an angel in that shimmering pale pink gown that accentuated her small waist and sweet feminine curves. With her blond hair arranged like a golden halo around her beautiful face, she moved with elegant grace on the arm of Lord Shelley as he walked her about the perimeter of the room.
Jeffrey hadn’t expected to discover her secret so soon. It was only his first night on duty.
Clearly, Yvette had set her cap for William Weatherly, Lord Shelley.
What on earth did Yvette see in him? He was too old for her, first of all! He was twice her age if he was a day. The man’s hair was almost completely silver, for Christ’s sake! Although Jeffrey hated to admit it, Lord Shelley was good looking in spite of his age. But he wasn’t worthy of a woman like Yvette. Well, yes, Lord Shelley would inherit his father’s dukedom. The Duke of Lansdowne was almost as powerful as Jeffrey’s own father, the Duke of Rathmore. But titles meant nothing to Jeffrey. He had learned the hard way that their true value was meaningless.
However, it was quite apparent they mattered to Yvette.
After overhearing her conversation earlier that evening with her friend, he now understood her refusal to leave London. She had set her sights quite high. Yvette was angling to become the next Duchess of Lansdowne. An unexpected feeling of distaste washed over him.
“She’s quite gorgeous, isn’t she?”
Jeffrey turned to see his cousin, James Granger Eddington, who had just walked over to stand beside him. His cousin’s dark eyes were locked on Yvette Hamilton.
“Yes,” Jeffrey agreed without hesitation. “She is beautiful.”
“I don’t know why I haven’t noticed her before,” James mused aloud.
“Haven’t you?”
James Granger Eddington turned to face Jeffrey. “When did you get back from France?”
“Just this week.” Jeffrey shrugged indifferently. He was not interested in talking to his cousin. Glancing back at Yvette, he saw Lord Shelley lower his head to whisper something for her ears only. He could almost hear Yvette’s sweet laughter. A cold tightness knotted in Jeffrey’s stomach.
Seeing Yvette Hamilton again had quite surprised him. She had changed while he’d been away. He had always thought of her as a pretty little girl even as she had grown into a lovely young lady and made her debut. But now . . . now there was something noticeably different about her. She had developed into a woman and he couldn’t reconcile the two images in his head.
“I’d heard that you returned.” James continued his line of questioning, “Have you seen your father yet?”
“Yes. I saw him last night.” Jeffrey glanced at his cousin again.
James Granger Eddington was the legal heir to Jeffrey’s father’s title, estate, and money. He did not begrudge James this ducal inheritance, for nothing could be done to change the order of things. The already married duke had had an affair with Jeffrey’s mother and therefore he could not legally claim Jeffrey as his heir, although he acknowledged him publicly. Being illegitimate excluded Jeffrey from inheriting his father’s dukedom and he had accepted that fact many years ago.
However, Jeffrey noted that James’s gaze was fixed on Yvette once again. He could not help but ask, “What’s your interest in Miss Hamilton?”
“She is truly stunning.” James sighed heavily and added with regret, “I wish I could have offered for her.”
Jeffrey started at his cousin’s unexpected comment. James had had a suitable marriage arranged for him years ago. Being the acknowledged heir to the Duke of Rathmore, he had no lack of options. His grand wedding to Lady Amelia Wells was set for next summer. But the idea of James with Yvette? It was beyond ridiculous.
“I know Yvette Hamilton quite well and you are not her type, James.”
“A high-ranking title is her type.” He stared pointedly at Jeffrey. “In which case I suit her perfectly.”
Jeffrey remained silent. His cousin was correct. The thought rankled as they both watched Yvette. Her blue eyes wide, she gazed with rapt attention as Lord Shelley spoke to her.
James Granger Eddington scoffed, “I could get her away from that old man if I wanted. I’ve got just as much to offer as he does, and I’m younger. A lot younger.”
Jeffrey’s mouth set in a grim line. He wasn’t sure which notion suddenly upset him most, the thought of Yvette marrying James or the thought of her with Lord Shelley. Both ideas were completely preposterous. Neither man was half good enough for her, in his opinion. Lord Shelley was entirely too old for Yvette. And James, well . . .
Aside from the fact that he was already engaged to be married, James Granger Eddington was utterly wrong for a girl as beautiful as Yvette. James had excellent prospects and was considered a catch by most standards, but unfortunately he was not an attractive man. Proof again that he was a distant branch on the Eddington family tree. Wide of girth, shorter than Jeffrey by a full head, with a bulbous nose and receding, thin brown hair, he was not at all Yvette’s romantic hero type. Not even close!
Jeffrey glanced down at him in amusement. “I seriously doubt you could capture Yvette Hamilton’s heart.”
“And you think you would be able to?” James challenged, his dark brow raised in a mocking question.
Jeffrey barely paused. “Certainly.”
“You’re a good-looking and charming gentleman and all the women love you, to be sure, and I am quite the opposite.” James shook his balding head with conviction. “But I have something to offer her that you do not.”
Jeffrey did not meet his cousin’s eyes for he spoke only the truth. Jeffrey had nothing to offer Yvette Hamilton, or any other woman for that matter. That fact had saved him on more than one occasion, as he used it to escape the marriage noose of certain persistent females who were determined to marry him for his looks, even if he was a bastard. Being an illegitimate son had its advantages at times.
Jeffrey remained silent, focused on the object of their discussion. Lord Shelley was now escorting Yvette from the ballroom, his hand holding her arm possessively, his tall form hovering over her petite body.
As he watched her, Jeffrey thought of the little girl he knew. A sweeter, lovelier, brighter girl he had never met. Even at that young of an age Yvette carried herself with an elegance and grace unmatched by any female he knew. They had always enjoyed an uncomplicated relationship, even if he had teased her too much, and he’d regarded her as a little sister. But looking at her at this moment . . . Yvette had certainly matured over the years.
How had he not noticed until tonight the beautiful and desirable woman she had become?
She was no longer a little girl and she was definitely not his little sister.
“I don’t think you could do it, old chap.”
“You don’t think I could do what?” Jeffrey turned back to his cousin, startled out of his errant thoughts. He’d almost forgotten about him.
James wrinkled his wide nose in derision. “I don’t think you could get Yvette Hamilton to marry the likes of you.”
Keeping his eyes on Yvette, Jeffrey watched her walk out to the terrace on Lord Shelley’s arm and his gut tightened in reflex. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I do and I bet you couldn’t do it.”
“Is that a challenge?” Jeffrey asked, staring at James. Their conversation had taken a surprising turn.
“Yes. A challenge.” James crossed his arms in defiance. “Let’s wager on it.”
“Wager on what?” Jeffrey questioned incredulously.
His eyes glinting, James made a proposition. “Let’s bet to see
if you could win Miss Hamilton over the future Duke of Lansdowne or not.”
“You’ve lost your damned mind, James.” Jeffrey shook his dark head with determination. “I would never bet on Yvette Hamilton that way.”
Once again, James arched a knowing brow, his expression quite superior. “It’s because you know you would lose to Lord Shelley’s title, isn’t it?”
He laughed at his cousin. “No. I could easily make Yvette mine, if I wanted to. And I don’t have to place a wager with you to prove it.”
“Coward.”
Jeffrey bristled at that. “What did you call me?”
“You heard me, Cousin.” James snickered with delight. “You know I’m right and you would lose out to the heir to a dukedom. The title of duke always trumps good looks.”
“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about, James.” Jeffrey itched to deck the shorter man. He gritted his teeth in annoyance. “You barely know Yvette Hamilton.”
“I don’t need to know her. She’s like all women and they all want the same thing. But I do know you’re afraid of losing.”
“Is that truly what you believe?”
“Yes, it is. That girl wants nothing more than to be a duchess and not even your charm and good looks are worth more than that. You know it as well as I do. It’s as plain as the ugly nose on my face.” James smiled in satisfaction.
Jeffrey considered Yvette’s motives. Surely that wasn’t all that inspired her pursuit of Lord Shelley? Could she be so mercenary and cold? No, not his sweet little Yvette. He refused to think of her that way. His cousin was wrong, certainly. And Jeffrey would prove him so.
There had never been a woman Jeffrey couldn’t get if he wanted her. No woman had ever turned him down. Yvette, a sweet little romantic, would be no match for his skills of seduction.
He paused in thought. There could be some merit to a wager with James after all.
If Jeffrey made an effort to win Yvette’s affections, he would be able to accomplish two goals. For if Yvette truly loved Lord Shelley then she wouldn’t be swayed by Jeffrey’s charm, and then he could give her his blessing to marry the man and they would have his best wishes for every happiness together. But if Yvette was only seeking the title of duchess, Jeffrey would be stopping her from a loveless marriage. And doing so would also provide him with a way to keep his eye on her while Lucien and Colette were away.
It was not a bad plan, at that.
There was one risk though. A mighty risk. At the end of it all, Yvette could wind up hating him for what he’d done. But that was a risk Jeffrey was willing to take to save her from making the most irrevocable mistake any woman could make in her lifetime. Marrying the wrong man.
It was his duty to protect her. He had promised Lucien to keep her away from certain types of men and to prevent her from making foolish choices. And if wooing her away from the wrong man, Lord Shelley, would be the best way to do that, then by God he would do it.
Jeffrey looked his short cousin in the eye. “I accept your wager.”
“You . . . you do?” James sputtered in disbelief. He had clearly not expected his challenge to be accepted.
“Yes, I do.”
“What are the terms?” James asked hurriedly, his round face now lit with gleeful excitement.
“Whatever you like,” Jeffrey responded with a shrug. He couldn’t care less about the terms of the wager. Proving his cousin wrong and winning money meant less than nothing to him. His only concern was keeping Yvette Hamilton from possibly marrying the wrong man and ruining her life.
“Since we’re gentlemen of means,” James Granger Eddington continued, “let’s make it interesting, shall we? How about a thousand pounds?”
“Whatever amount you wish. It’s your loss.”
“Fine. A gentleman’s wager.” James grinned with undisguised glee. “I’ll bet you a thousand pounds that you can’t win Miss Yvette Hamilton away from the future Duke of Lansdowne by . . . by when?”
“By Christmas, if not sooner.” Jeffrey could pass the care of Yvette back to Lucien and Colette by then and wash his hands of the entire affair knowing that she was safe, one way or another.
“It’s a deal, Cousin.” James held out his hand.
They shook to bind the wager, while Jeffrey ignored the uneasy feeling that crept over him. And it had nothing to do with the outrageously large sum of money he had just wagered on Yvette Hamilton’s heart.
“This will be the easiest money I ever made.” James continued to smile, as he pumped Jeffrey’s hand with growing delight.
Withdrawing his hand from James’s grip, Jeffrey advised him coolly, “Don’t spend it yet, Cousin. You’d do well not to underestimate me.”
4
September Rain
“Yes, Maman, of course, I’m ready,” Yvette answered, adjusting the skirts of her new lavender gown. They were on their way to visit her sister Lisette and her new baby that afternoon. Yvette had intended to go riding in Green Park with Lord Shelley, but the drizzling rain had spoiled those plans.
“Then let us be on our way. I am weary of waiting for you. Je suis fatiguée de t’attendre. Cela fait déjà dix minutes que j’attends. Dépêche-toi,” her mother, Genevieve Hamilton, said impatiently while pounding her ornate cane on the floor to enhance the emphasis of her words.
“Well, let’s go then, shall we?” Yvette quickly ushered her mother into the waiting carriage, complete with the Sinclairs’ liveried footmen, that would carry them the short drive to her sister’s townhouse. Yvette would have preferred to walk there, but her mother was not able to make even such a short distance nor would she be able to tolerate the damp weather. There were a lot of things that Genevieve Hamilton could not abide and she was quite vocal about them. All the time.
It was too hot. It was too cold. Too many people came to visit them. Not enough people came to visit them. Her tea was not strong enough. Her tea was too strong. Didn’t anyone know how to make a proper cup of tea anymore? And what was the matter with the servants at Devon House? Didn’t Colette know how to train them properly? No one knew how to take care of her the way she wanted. She missed Brighton. London was a horrid, loud, and dirty city. On and on it went. All day. Every day. Nothing pleased her. Nothing satisfied her.
Yvette had protested vociferously against having her mother come to stay with her while Colette and Lucien were away, declaring that she was quite able to manage on her own. However, neither her sister nor her brother-in-law would budge on this matter. It was final. Appearances must be kept up and she was not to be left unattended. Genevieve Hamilton came to Devon House. Yvette consoled herself that she had won the battle to stay in London and not go to America. At least she had that triumph!
So her mother, with the air of a great martyr, reluctantly left her cottage by the sea in Brighton and came to stay with Yvette at Devon House. Genevieve had only been there a few days and already Yvette was exasperated with her. Her mother always had that effect on her. She would be glad to get to Lisette’s house and share the burden of her mother’s draining presence with another sister for a while.
As the carriage wended its way through the wet London streets, Yvette blocked out the incessant French ramblings and complaints about the bumpy roads and dreary weather from her mother and thought only of William Weatherly, Lord Shelley.
Lord Shelley had invited her to go riding in the park with him!
Yvette had been more than pleased with her progress with him since the ball the night before last. He was showing a definite marked interest in her. Not only had he danced with her, but he had also walked her out to the terrace, where they had conversed. They had talked easily together about nothing of true importance. She had seen the signs before in other gentlemen, but Lord Shelley seemed quite smitten with her. If one could call a future duke smitten!
Everything was going according to her plan. She sighed heavily, looking out the carriage window. If only for the rain, she would be with him now!
Instead
, she had been obligated to accompany her mother to her sister’s home for the afternoon. Not that Yvette minded visiting her sister and her sweet little children. It was just that she would have preferred to be out in Green Park in Lord Shelley’s carriage, where everyone could see her with him.
“Are you still disappointed that your plans were changed, Yvette? I can see that your eyes are sad. Tu as l’air très triste. Je peux lire une certaine déception dans tes yeux.”
Surprised, Yvette turned to her mother.
“You think I am a foolish old woman who does not know what is going on around me. But I know, Yvette, I know. Je sais ce à quoi tu penses. Tu penses que je suis insensée mais je ne le suis pas. J’en sais quelque chose. J’ai raison. J’en suis certaine. You were looking forward to being with a certain gentleman today, were you not?”
“Maman, please.” The last thing Yvette wished to do was discuss her feelings for Lord Shelley with her mother.
“No need to say so. I am right, I know.”
“Well, yes,” Yvette admitted the truth with reluctance. “I was supposed to go riding with a very nice gentleman this afternoon. Had he come to the house, I would have introduced you.”
“Who is he?”
“Lord Shelley.”
“Ah, yes. Of course you would rather be with a handsome gentleman than visit your sister. It is only natural. Mais bien sûr que tu voudrais être avec un bel homme. Quelle femme ne le voudrait pas? I knew the truth of it. Tell me about him.”
“There’s nothing to tell yet, Mother.”
“Ha! That is a lie! Now, this gentleman is the reason you wished to stay in London and the reason I am here in London, a city I despise, and not in my comfortable house in Brighton, to watch over you. I am not a fool, Yvette. Je ne suis pas dupe. J’insiste pour que tu m’en dises plus sur cet homme. Je saurai tout, tôt ou tard. Je le saurai. I insist you tell me about him.”
His By Christmas (Hamilton Sisters) Page 3