Wes nodded. “The Good Book does say it goeth before a fall.”
Andrew disagreed with this bit of advice. What would Diana think of his family—of him—if she knew. And pride, when it was all one had, one clung to it quite tightly. His gaze shot to his uncle who was taking in the marital advice with the solemnity of the marriage vows he’d take in a few days. Pride and duty kept Andrew going when he wanted to call it a day. Wanted to go his own way. Wanted…Diana.
He clapped his hands, shaking them all from their gravity. “Now we have the serious business out of the way, it’s on to the fun.”
“This isn’t a topless show.” Wes’ black eyes widened. “I promised Jasmine the only boobies I’d ever look at are hers.”
“Hen-pecked, much?” Jacob taunted from across the table.
“Gladly. You’ve seen my wife?”
“No need to worry. It’s a family-friendly show.” Andrew had arranged for them to see a well-known troupe who employed drums and paint as their means of entertainment. Their seats were center-front but out of the splash-zone. “We better head in so we’re not late.”
The men had settled in their seats and the house lights lowered when his phone vibrated in his pocket. His first impulse was to ignore it, but with his parents soon in route, he dared not.
Maybe it’s Diana texting that she’s waiting for me.
No such luck.
—Bank of England. Overdraft alert. Account ending in 5743 is overdrawn by £2,374.67—
Acid churned in his stomach. His father’s account. As if he didn’t have enough to manage with Uncle Neville. What was his old man up to now? There was nothing for it but to cover the overdraft—plus a bit more. Problem was, having been away from his work his own coffers were less than he liked. As it so happened a source of income lay yards away. He leaned over to his uncle. “I have a matter needing my attention.”
Neville arched a brow. “Problem?”
“Nothing I can’t handle with a little time at the tables.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Possibly.” They’d ridden together in the sergeant’s large SUV. “I’ll need to stay if the table is hot.” Which could jeopardize his date with Diana. Bloody hell, he’d grown weary of this rock-and-hard-place.
“I’ll need to delay our departure without drawing attention to the reason why.”
“If you can manage it.”
“Count on me. I can suggest a round of drinks or time at the slot machines.”
Andrew gripped Neville’s shoulder as he rose from his seat. “Wish me luck.”
After exiting the theater, he wound his way through the main lobby, past the areas where poker and roulette were played, and over to the blackjack tables. He motioned a waitress for a drink and took his time surveying the ongoing games while he waited. Hot tables were to be avoided. Too much attention for his purposes. Tables with too many available seats didn’t suit either for the same reason. By the time his gin and tonic arrived, he’d found what he wanted. A couple of tourists mixed with university-aged students and an older man. Most importantly, the dealer had started a new shoe.
He settled in the seat on the far left and placed the minimum bet. His gaze found the security cameras and the pit boss. The dealer dealt everyone’s cards, giving Andrew a ten of clubs and seven of diamonds.
The man to his right leaned over. “You’re going to want to hold on that one.”
Andrew often received advice from fellow players. Some gave it to steer others wrong. Some because it made them feel like a whale. Some were lonely and wanted to talk.
This man appeared to fall in the last category. Dressed in a leisure suit straight out of the seventies with a hairstyle to match, it seemed possible he’d been in residence since that decade.
“I believe I’ll take that advice.” After all, Andrew liked to begin conservatively until the shoe swung in favor of the players.
More cards were drawn. The tourists busted. And when the dealer drew a nine of spades to his collective seventeen, he also went over twenty-one. Andrew and the old pro collected their winnings while the dealer cleared the cards.
Andrew raised his gin and tonic. “Cheers.”
“Dusty,” the man said offering his hand.
“Andrew.” He signaled the waitress. “A drink for my friend. What’s your pleasure?”
“These days I stick to Cokes. It helps with the concentration.”
Another round began with bets placed and cards dealt.
“More sage wisdom.” Between keeping track of the count, his strategy, and the pit boss’s location, he had plenty to fill his brain. Add an awareness of time, financial pressure, and a simmering desire for the end of the evening and smoke should have been coming out his ears.
Several hands passed with Andrew splitting his bets when appropriate, steadily increasing his wager, and only busting once. The other players made small talk with Andrew and Dusty keeping to themselves.
“Card,” he said, calculating the next would likely be a low one. It was. Which brought Andrew’s winnings up to a thousand. On the next hand, along with his bet he added a tip for the dealer.
Dusty polished off his Coke. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“I’m based in London. You?”
A dozen hands passed in silence. The table got hotter and despite the pit boss replacing the dealer, Andrew continued to play his strategy and win.
“I used to live in a town not too far up the road.”
The old gambler had been silent for so long, Andrew had trouble recalling the thread of their conversation. “What’s the name?”
“You wouldn’t have heard of it. It’s barely bigger than a gnat’s ass. Greenville. Born, bred, and wed. Haven’t been back for more than twenty years though. Not sure what calls me back to this part of the country now.”
“I’ve heard of it. My uncle and I are staying at the Greenbrier.”
“You know the owner, old man Dansfield?”
“He’s deceased. A few years ago, from what I’ve been told. I’m acquainted with his granddaughter, Miss Diana Curtis.”
Dusty’s gaze narrowed. “I ’spect you are.”
The hairs on Andrew’s arm stood at attention. “Lovely lady. Good head on her shoulders.” He’d made enough to cover his immediate problem. “I’m going to cash in. My uncle and I are out celebrating his stag night, and I’ve already been away from the group too long.”
“Who’s your uncle marrying? It might be someone I used to know.”
“Diana’s mother, Jackie.”
The gambler stiffened for the briefest moment. “That a fact?” He turned his attention to his hand. “Enjoy your night.”
Bloody hell. If only he could snatch back his words. Have chosen another table. “We will.”
Andrew collected his winnings, hurrying to the lobby where he found Uncle Neville and the others waiting. There’d been moments when he’d left a casino—with help. There were establishments that would no longer book his action. However, he’d never left with the feeling a problem would follow him—until now.
With the wedding rehearsal later that day, Diana hurried out of her office. As always balancing the needs of her two dependents—her businesses and her mama.
Rose petals, green ribbon, groom’s gift, Yeti coolers, SEC tumblers, buy advertising for Greenbrier in the Mobile newspaper.
In the narrow service hallway, she nearly collided with the duke as he exited the kitchen. Carrying a breakfast tray?
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
I didn’t know he knew where food came from, much less could ferret out its source.
“Please, call me Neville. Now we’re to be family, I think we can dispense with the formalities.”
She pointed to the tray containing a carafe, toast, and two poached eggs. “I hope my staff has been taking care of your needs.”
“Most certainly. I wanted to bring your mother her breakfast myself. A bit of advice I received fro
m one of the gentlemen during my stag night.”
The gesture screamed Wes and Jasmine. After her grandparents, those two best exemplified a healthy, loving marriage. “That’s so kind. I’m sure Mama will be thrilled.”
“I must be on my way. Cold eggs won’t do.”
As he turned, she gave voice to the question muddling her mental to-do list. “Duk— I mean, Neville, do you happen to know where Andrew is?”
“Did you need him for a task?”
“Not exactly. I hadn’t seen him around lately.” Prior to the stag night, he’d been her constant companion. Friday, he’d briefly stopped by her office before disappearing for the day.
Neville studied the floor. “I have him taking care of last-minute wedding things. I believe it’s the American custom for the groom’s family to host a dinner following the wedding rehearsal.”
“We call it a rehearsal dinner.”
“I’ve made arrangements with your staff to use the breakfast room. It should suffice for our small numbers.”
“I assume Andrew’s parents will attend.” Another detail to manage. Would they want one room or two?
“Lord and Lady Somerset will round out our numbers to an even dozen. Counting the page and bridesmaid.”
One of Granddaddy Dansfield’s favorite sayings tickled her ear. A pound of pretention is worth a pound of manure. She stifled a snicker and wondered if she’d ever get used to all the British terms Neville used for ordinary things like ring bearer and flower girl. “I have everything ready for their arrival.”
“I’m sure you do. I much admire your efficiency.” His gaze softened. “And your dedication to your mother, despite the shenanigans you and Andrew attempted. You’re a credit to your family. Just as he is to mine.”
“That’s kind of you to say.” Despite her growing to-do list, she wanted to keep him talking, especially if he was in the mood to be frank. “Do you mind, Neville, if I ask you a personal question?”
“You may ask, but I may not answer. Talking about my private life is against my upbringing as well as my nature.”
“I wondered why you hadn’t married before now. Being as it’s so important to your position to produce an heir.”
He raised his chin. “I hadn’t met your mother yet.”
Not the straight answer she’d hoped for, though her mama would be thrilled with the romantic notion. “I see. Thank you.”
“There’s also a more truthful reason if you’d like to hear it.”
His words stilled her steps. “If it’s not prying too much.”
“Andrew is like a son to me. Has been since he was a little chap in knee pants. I don’t imagine my own progeny could be dearer to my heart. Simply said, I wouldn’t do anything to displace him as the heir to my title.”
The urge to hug the man struck her. “That’s touching. I know he feels the same about you.”
“If I speak to Andrew during the day, should I tell him to seek you out?”
“Please. If I’m not in my office, he can find me in the barn.”
He turned from her. “Very well, and now I must tend to your mother.”
At the service entrance, Diana changed into boots before heading down to the barn. She and her mother still needed to finalize the reception seating chart, and there was a snafu regarding an order of Vera Bradley purses for Sweet Tea and Lavender. When there was a foal in the barn, work took a back seat. At least for a few minutes.
Stepping out of the sunlight, her vision took a moment to adjust to the barn’s shadows. When it did, the large blur at the far end turned into Doc James and his gelding.
“Morning.” She closed the gap between them. “Did you see Hope’s baby?”
He lowered the hoof he’d been cleaning and took up a curry comb. “I took a quick look before Toby and I hit the trails. He’s looking good.”
“Thank you again for joining the bachelor party. I know that’s not your thing.”
“We had a good time. The duke is…”
“Stuffy, peculiar, and a bit of a dandy.”
He nodded. “And a good fit for Miss Jackie.”
She ran her hand along the horse’s warm flank. “He’s certainly devoted to her. I ran into him a little while ago, and he was bringing breakfast to Mama.”
“That’s on advice from Wes.”
“I hope it works. They had another argument at dinner last night.” Good Lord, what would she do if they cancelled the wedding now?
The vet dropped the circular comb into the bucket at his feet then turned to face her. “I’m glad you came down here.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. Shifted his weight from foot-to-foot. Grabbed the grooming kit and moved it to the wall next to Toby’s stall.
All the while her heart beat double time. Why couldn’t he have asked her out a couple weeks ago when dukes, lords, and especially a certain viscount were only in little girls’ dreams. Finally, her impatience got the better of her. “Something on your mind?”
James removed his Stetson, knocking the trail dust off against his thigh. “One thing about our night in Vicksburg struck me as strange. I’ve been stewing about whether to mention it. I’d decided not to, but seeing as you’re here, and you and I are thinking along the same lines, I better.”
Not asking her out. But still, as he hemmed and hawed, she wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake it out of him. Even Toby showed his impatience, stamping his hoof against the stable’s concrete floor. “Do I need to be sitting down for this?”
“No, it’s a small thing, when you think about it.”
“Let’s hear it. My imagination’s working overtime here.”
“As the show was about to start, Andrew left. And didn’t come back.”
Just as he’d disappeared all day Friday, not returning until after supper time. “That’s not polite, and not like him. Wonder where he went.”
James met her gaze. “The blackjack tables. I had to take a call about Mrs. Meriwether’s dog. It’s got arthritis and she worries. Afterward, the ushers held me off until intermission. I took to wandering and found him.”
Strange, but not enough to warrant a mention. Perhaps the same had happened to him.
“Here’s the thing, he was winning big time. Nearly every hand.”
She failed to see the point. “He’s one of idle rich. I guess that’s what they do when they’re bored.”
“All day?” James’ voice rose. “I had to go through Vicksburg yesterday morning on the way to a cattle auction. My route took me past the Lucky Lady. One of Greenbrier’s vehicles parked out front.”
The same vehicle Andrew had borrowed. He’d turned down her offer of a picnic to gamble. He’d lied. Told her he needed to take care of an issue with Neville’s tuxedo.
He shrugged. “It was still there when I came back through at four o’clock.”
Diana’s temper flared. She bet her shoe money it was parked there at this moment. What. The. Hell. Was middle-class America boring him?
“It feels wrong telling you. None of my business what your guests do. But it seemed more wrong not to let you know.”
“You did the right thing. I appreciate your concern for me and Mama.”
James toed the ground. “Anyway.”
Was he blushing? Good Lord, most men with such good looks would be crowing like a rooster.
He unhooked Toby’s halter, letting the animal take himself out to pasture. “I better get to going. I’ve got cows to castrate over at Brawner’s farm.” Leaving her with that mental image, James ambled to his truck.
“All Andrew had to do was say he wanted to visit the Lucky Lady again. It’s not like he’s accountable to me for his time.” So why the deceit? Her palm tingled, making her think she’d had the right idea about him back at the airport. What irritated like a pebble in her shoe was his lack of candor. “Silly me for thinking this was more than a diversion.” One he could easily replace with a set of cards.
She moved down to Hope’s stall. For all her years
, her home brought her the only solace she needed. Now, watching the two-day-old colt failed. “I think I’ve earned a few days in Biloxi after this is over. Maybe an ocean view is what I need.” The quarter horse snorted a reply. “Yeah, I know. Fat chance of me getting away.”
The sound of Greenbrier’s van rattling up the driveway had her pulse doing double time. For moment she considered hiding in the tack room—at least until she got her temper out of the red zone.
“Neville said you were looking for me.”
Diana drew in a breath and prayed for self-control. She tucked her hands in her pockets for good measure. His dark hair blew in the breeze and whiskers shadowed his jaw. The memory of them against her cheek had different parts of her tingling now. Damn his good looks. Now she needed a different type of self-control. “Just curious if there was anything you wanted me to do for the rehearsal dinner tonight.”
He closed the distance between them. “It’s all handled.” His blue eyes danced, and his face shone like she hadn’t seen since their first real kiss back when he found her in the woods.
As he reached for her she sidestepped him by picking up the bucket of grooming tools Doc James left and hugging it. “Special instructions for your folks?” She’d had her fill of loving a liar when she was dating Travis.
His smile faltered. “Just be your usual charming self.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she said, moving them to safer territory. If they kept to wedding issues, all would be well. “I can’t help thinking our mothers are going to get along like two cats with their tails tied together.”
“I understand your concerns, and I wish I could say they were baseless.”
“Is this why you suggested Neville and Mama live here for a while? To give your mother time to adjust to no longer being your uncle’s hostess?”
His jaw ticked—a movement so small she wouldn’t have seen it had she not been watching him intently. “I thought it would be a good idea for the newlyweds to adjust to married life here where they enjoy so much support.”
“You have a point.” But her gut screamed that wasn’t the only reason.
Stop That Wedding Page 12