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Authors: Claudia Dain

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The three women looked at the pair, and what a pair they

made. Iveston so tall and fair, Penelope so dark and petite, yet

they looked a match for all their mismatched looks. There was

something in the air between them, some deeply rooted comfort,

a certain sense of play that, unless they were more careful, would

send Edenham out the door and into the gloom of rejection.

“Hardly,” Sophia said. “They met just this week, I believe, at

the Prestwick ball, though I don’t think they exchanged even ten

words between them. Then. Of course, now they seem to get on

very well together.”

“They certainly do,” Katherine said, looking at her brother.

Edenham looked frigidly composed and gave every appearance

of enjoying the music. What a performance. Edenham’s, of

course. “I can’t think why a girl should be so bold as to pro

claim her desire to marry a particular man. It’s quite scandalous,

I’m sure.”

“It’s in her nature to be bold, I believe, and she is utterly

determined to marry well, for which she can scarcely be faulted.

Actually, I find there to be a sort of blunt charm about her, and

clearly Iveston appreciates her in precisely the same way.”

“The charm or the bluntness?” Katherine said, casting a

glance at Sophia.

Ah, it was so good to see a little fire in Lady Richard’s eyes

again. She looked better already.

“Perhaps in the way she chews on his cravat,” Sophia said,

laughing lightly. “But no, can’t you see, darling, that Miss Prest

wick, so young and so inexperienced, is using Iveston to capture

Edenham? It is quite an old game, nearly instinctive, but as it is

so boldly performed by her the effect is certainly dulled, wouldn’t

you say? Edenham doesn’t look alarmed in the slightest. After

260 CLAUDIA DAIN

three wives, he certainly knows his way around any trap a female

is likely to set.”

“I spoke to Lord Iveston at the Prestwick ball,” Anne said,

“and he seemed a delightful man, though one with absolutely no

interest in marriage, at least not at present. I think this might be

all for show, though I can’t see what Lord Iveston would have to

gain from it.”

“Can’t you?” Sophia said with a smile, putting her empty

glass on a table behind her. “There are many wagers in play re

garding the delightfully bold Miss Prestwick. I should think Lord

Iveston’s behavior rests very fi rmly on a fi nancial foundation.”

“That makes perfect sense,” Katherine said, sighing and look

ing at her brother again.

“Yes,” Sophia said softly, watching the pair at their musical

outpouring, “it does, doesn’t it?”

6

“I can’t make sense of any of this,” George Prestwick said as he

watched his sister singing, and very prettily, too, in perfect time

with Lord Iveston’s playing. Anyone watching them would think

they’d been practicing together for a month. It wasn’t possible

that they had, was it?

No, ridiculous. He would have known.

Wouldn’t he?

“Tell me, didn’t Miss Prestwick meet Iveston for the fi rst time

just this week?” Lord George Blakesley asked.

It should have been something of a relief to know that he

wasn’t the only brother caught unawares. It wasn’t.

“Last week, in fact,” George Prestwick answered. “At our ball.

I don’t even think I saw them speak.”

“Things can happen that no one sees,” George Grey said

from his slouch against the wall. “Especially where women are

concerned.”

How to Daz zle a Duke

261

“She’s not a woman. She’s my sister,” George Prestwick said.

“It’s even worse with sisters,” George Grey said.

“That’s true, isn’t it?” George Prestwick asked, glancing

at him.

Grey nodded.

“Only boys in the Blakesley nursery,” Lord George said. “I

suddenly fi nd I am thankful for my brothers.”

“You seem very observant,” George Prestwick said to George

Grey. “Have you noticed anything? Anything I should know

about?”

Grey shook his head. “Only the wagers. You know about

those.”

“I think the wagers might have more to do with this than any

one supposes,” Lord George said. “Certainly Iveston has barely

shown an interest in leaving the house before this week. I begin

to wonder if, the wagers nullified, all this would evaporate.”

The three men nodded, considering it. They looked nothing

alike, behaved nothing like, and as far as Mr. George Grey was

concerned, their life experiences had been nothing alike. Yet

they each understood two things to varying degrees: women and

wagers. Combined, those two separate and disparate elements

could produce anything, absolutely anything. If men had any

sort of sense at all, they should avoid putting women and wagers

together as a life principle as women and wagers were rather like

fire and oil. Yet, without fire and oil coming together, there could

be no light.

Pity that women could not produce something as practical as

light. All they seemed able to produce was trouble. Oh, and heirs.

Must have heirs, after all. Society would falter rather quickly

without them, but it did seem a high price to pay, didn’t it? All

that combustion just for a few heirs.

“The only way,” George Prestwick said, “for a wager to evap

orate is for it to be won or lost. The thing settled, as it were.”

262 CLAUDIA DAIN

Lord George nodded. George Grey crossed his arms and put

his foot against the wall, which was really not at all polite of him,

but one did not go about telling an Indian that he was not being

polite. It seemed entirely beside the point.

“Which means,” George Prestwick continued, “that either my

sister marries Iveston or Edenham.”

“Or she marries no one at all,” Lord George said. “The wager,

on all parts, will be lost.”

“Small loss, to save a sister from an unwelcome marriage,”

Grey said.

But was it unwelcome? George Prestwick looked at his sister

and could not see an answer to that.

Women and wagers. What a colossal mess.

6

EDENHAM didn’t know what he had been thinking, letting Sophia

convince him that Penelope was his for the taking. Taking? She

gave every appearance of being an hour away from a betrothal

with Iveston. Wagers flying all over Town, on White’s book, re

corded for all time, and he with no woman to show for it.

He didn’t precisely want a woman, at least not this one, cer

tainly not at present, but his name was on White’s book! Prepos

terous mess. He couldn’t think how his life could have been so

pleasant yesterday and such a muddle today.

Oh, yes he could.

His gaze moved from the happy couple at the pianoforte to

Sophia Dalby, standing and talking to his sister and Anne War

ren. She caught his gaze and smiled at him, looking as innocent

as a spring lamb. If he’d been in a better frame of mind, he would

have laughed outright.

Penelope and Iveston gave every appearance of having prac

ticed this piece for a month. What sort of fairly made wager was

How to Daz zle a Duke

263

that? As to appearances, there was something very specifi c about

the mess that was Iveston’s cravat. He’d heard the rumor about

what had happened to Penelope’s dress, the rain, the rat, the

rescue, and he was willing to accept it, but a man’s cravat only

looked like that after some serious effort. He was no stranger to

either cravats or women, after all. If he was not entirely mistaken,

it looked as if Iveston had a love bite on his neck.

Truthfully, he would never have supposed Miss Prestwick had

it in her. She looked so very proper and her manner of speech

was quite irregular for a woman. Bold, actually, though there was

certainly nothing amiss with a woman being bold, depending

entirely upon to what she turned her efforts.

Was it a love bite? For all that Iveston’s cravat looked as

though it had been nested in by rats, it was still too well-placed to

reveal much.

“I can’t think what she has against his cravat,” Lord Dutton

said. “He looked quite presentable when he arrived.”

Edenham looked askance at Dutton. He was his usual wellturned out, polished self. Not at all cut that he could see. Dutton,

quite out of his usual manner, had been lolling about Town three

sheets to the wind more often than not the past month, and over

a woman, too. The right woman, which is to say, the wrong one,

could do that to a man. It was good to see that Dutton had got

hold of himself and his pride and was shaking off the shackles of

melancholy.

“He’s out to win a wager. I think he can’t care that his cravat

was sacrifi ced.”

Dutton continued to stare at Miss Prestwick and Iveston; they

did sound well together. “What of your wager? What will you

sacrifice to win it?”

The question acted as a spur, shaking him out of his muddled

thoughts. He had the answer and it was the perfect answer.

264 CLAUDIA DAIN

“I made no wager, Lord Dutton,” Edenham said calmly. “A

wager was made without my knowledge or direction. Certainly

whomever Miss Prestwick agrees to marry is of no concern to

me. Why should you think otherwise?”

And without waiting for an answer, Edenham walked off and

rejoined his sister, leaving Dutton with his mouth open and ap

parently nothing to say, which was ideal, wasn’t it?

Twenty-one

“THEY certainly appear as if they’d spent much time together,”

Katherine was saying to Sophia as Edenham joined them. “Their

timing on the piece is nearly perfect.”

“No, not at all,” Sophia said. “I’m certain I would have heard

of it. This is their fi rst pairing, I assure you.”

It was at that moment that Penelope came to a particularly

pretty run of notes, and that Iveston joined her. Their harmony

was perfect.

“Nearly miraculous, isn’t it?” Edenham said, staring at

Sophia.

“I should say so,” she said. “It’s quite startling, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Lord Ruan said, coming up behind Sophia.

He looked quite as dashing as usual, which was so convivial of

him. There was very little Sophia enjoyed more than a man who

knew what he was doing and enjoyed himself while doing it.

“Quite,” Sophia said.

“I can’t think that much startles you, Lady Dalby,” Ruan said.

“An astute observation,” Edenham said, “and one I quite

agree with.”

266 CLAUDIA DAIN

“I’m flattered,” Sophia said. “I shouldn’t like to be thought of

as a woman who starts at nothing.”

“Is this nothing?” Edenham asked, turning slightly to face

Miss Prestwick and the pianoforte. “Before today, no one had

heard of this girl and now she is the subject of wagers.”

“That’s hardly to her credit, Hugh,” Katherine said. “I don’t

think it kind of you to point it out.”

“I make no judgments, only observations,” Edenham re

sponded.

“I couldn’t disagree more,” Sophia said, facing Penelope. The

song was just ending. “It is to her credit, and you should judge

her well for doing such a splendid job in a single day of that

which every girl of every Season wishes for; she has made a

name for herself. She, this darling girl, has grabbed everyone’s

attention and is determined to keep it for as long as she requires

it. Such a girl should be applauded.”

As the song was done, the room did applaud. It was nicely

timed.

“As long as she requires it? What the devil does that

mean?” Edenham asked Sophia. But it was not Sophia who an

swered him.

“Until she gets a husband,” Katherine said, looking at Sophia

with the barest of smiles.

“Precisely,” said Sophia.

“And when is that to be?” Edenham asked.

“Darling,” Sophia said softly, laying her fan on his arm, “don’t

be so coy.”

Lord Ruan laughed.

6

“I can’t think what you’re being so coy about,” Penelope said.

“All I’m asking is that you escort me over to Edenham. I should

think you’d be glad to be done with your part in my . . .”

How to Daz zle a Duke

267

Well, what to call it? Of course, there were words to describe

what she was doing, but they were not the sort of words one said

in front of a man.

“Your pursuit of a husband?” Iveston said pleasantly, his tur

quoise blue eyes twinkling almost dangerously. Dangerous?

What could possibly be dangerous about Lord Iveston?

His kisses?

Perish the thought.

Oh, of course he kissed quite splendidly; she was not the type

of woman to lie about something like that. No, a man had to

have his skills, his areas of expertise, and Iveston had clearly

found his. He could kiss. He could kiss very well. Well, what of

it? A woman did not choose a husband based upon something as

inconsequential as that. Why, if that were so, she might as well

have married the groom. Though, to be honest, the groom’s

kisses, what she could remember of them, quite paled in com

parison to Iveston’s.

He
could
kiss.

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