In The Prince's Bed (2 page)

“Only if they want their tongues cut out,” Byrne snapped.

Alec shrugged off the threat. “And—as you’ve guessed—I’m penniless. The earl spent my mother’s entire fortune.”

In his last days, the old goat had invested in risky ventures that decimated what family monies hadn’t been stolen by his corrupt steward. Thanks to that and the earl’s obsessive—and expensive—pursuit of quack cures for some supposed illness, Alec had inherited an estate in shambles, but no blunt to save it.

“Each ofuslacks something. I have no money.” Alec glanced at Byrne. “You have no legitimate name.”

He nodded to Draker. “You have no acceptance in society.”

“What does Draker care about society?” Byrne said. “He seems content enough moldering out there at
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Castlemaine.”

“Ah, but I suspect he sometimes finds his outcast status inconvenient.” Although Draker scowled, Alec noticed he didn’t deny it. “Aren’t you guardian to the daughter your mother bore the viscount? And isn’t she approaching the age to marry? You may not care about your own situation, but I’ll wager you care about hers.”

“All right,” Draker grumbled, “so my sister
has
been plaguing me with this maggoty idea about having a season. I’ve told her it won’t work. Who would sponsor her? Besides, after the lies my mother spread about me, Louisa will be treated like a leper for
my
sins.”

“But if you don’t give her a season,” Alec pointed out, “how long before she runs off with the first footman or local idiot who shows her any affection?”

“Is there a point to this?” Draker asked tersely.

Alec cast Byrne a studied glance. “If all she needs is a sponsor and invitations, I’m sure Byrne knows several lords whose… er… indebtedness to him would persuade them and their wives to do as we ask.”

“We?” Byrne queried.

“Yes, we. Thanks to our sire, we’ve been denied the advantages of most normal families—friendship, loyalty, unconditional aid. But that needn’t stopusfrom success.” Heartened by how intently they listened, he continued. “Each ofuspossesses something the others need, so I propose that we form an alliance. It would act as a family—we
are
half brothers, after all. Together, we could change our fortunes. We could help each other attain everything we desire.”

Byrne lifted an eyebrow. “Which bringsusback to what
you
desire. But if you think I’ll lend you money because of our mutual connection to Prinny—”

“I don’t want any loans,” Alec retorted. “The earl left me sunk in debt up to my chin as it is.”

“Yet you must want
something
fromus. And since we’re clearly not Prinny’s favorites, you can’t be hoping we’ll get you money from him.”

“Absolutely not,” Alec said firmly. “I doubt he knows I’m his son, and I’d rather keep it that way. Besides, he doesn’t have enough money for what I need.”

Draker’s eyes narrowed. “How much are you talking about?”

“To restore Edenmore to a working estate and the house to a livable condition—” He dragged in a heavy breath. “Roughly seventy-five thousand pounds. Perhaps more.”

At Draker’s low whistle, Byrne said, “You’re damned right—nobody would loan you such a sum. I doubt you could even make it at the tables.”

“If borrowing money will sink me further, gambling would bury me.” Alec set his glass down. “No, I’ve thought about this, and I can find only one solution to my need for funds—marriage to an heiress.”

“You’re not getting Louisa, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Draker growled.
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Alec rolled his eyes. “For God’s sake, I don’t want a chit fresh out of the schoolroom. I’d prefer a mature woman who understands the rules ofEnglishsociety: Do as you please as long as you’re discreet. Raise hell in private as long as you behave well in public. Pretend that marriage is about love, when we all know it’s about money and position.”

“Sounds rather cynical,” Draker said.

“You of all people know it’s accurate. Why else do you escape society at your estate in Hertfordshire?”

When Draker scowled, Alec added, “Not that I blame you. I tried escaping by staying abroad instead of returning here to demand my due when I came of age. That’s why I’ve nearly lost everything.”

He smiled grimly. “I learned my lesson. You play by their rules—at least in public—to get what you want. And I want to restore Edenmore. If that means hunting a fortune like the other penniless lords, then, by God, I’ll hunt a fortune.”

Draker shook his head. “Any heiress with that kind of money is armed to the teeth against fortune hunters. And if she isn’t, her father will be.”

“The man’s an earl,” Byrne told Draker. “Plenty of merchants would gladly pay to have their daughters made into countesses.”

“For such a large sum?” Alec went to stoke up the fire. “What fool would hand over his precious daughter and seventy-five thousand pounds to a fortune-hunting lord with a reputation for abandoning his family in the pursuit of pleasure? I can’t tell the truth about my time abroad without explaining the real reason for my estrangement from my father, which I don’t want to do.”

He stared into the flames. “But the rumors alone won’t damage my chances, as long as I hide my penury while I’m courting. I plan to take my heiress in hand before she learns of my finances.” He wouldn’t make the old earl’s mistake—letting his intended wife know he was marrying her for money. That only led to trouble.

Dusting his hands off on his trousers, he faced them again. “That’s why I need your help. I have to secure my heiress before the truth about my situation reachesLondon. Trouble is, I don’t know any. I was too young to be in society when I left, and I don’t have the weeks it will take me to learn who’s who.”

He narrowed his gaze on Byrne. “You move in those circles and deal with financial matters every day. You could give me the information I need.”

When Byrne looked stony, Draker cleared his throat. “Since I’ve been out of society half my life, I can’t imagine what good
I
could do you.”

Tearing his gaze from Byrne’s, Alec said baldly, “You could loan me a carriage. Most things I can get on credit, but not something that large.”

“You don’t even own a carriage?” Byrne said in disbelief.

Alec stiffened. By God, he hated this begging. “My father sold both our carriages, along with theLondon town house, which is why I live here at theStephensHotel. I can keep my lodgings secret, but if I always show up in a hack, someone will get suspicious.” He stared at Draker. “And I figured since you—”

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“Don’t go into society,” Draker finished, “I could spare you a carriage.”

Alec nodded tightly. “I promise to keep it in good working order.”

Draker appeared more amused than insulted. “If you will also promise not to harness a lot of ill-matched nags to it—”

“You’ll help me?” Alec broke in. “You’ll join this alliance I propose?”

“I suppose it can’t hurt. Especially if my pesky sister gets a decent husband out of it.” Draker arched a shaggy brown brow. “And not a fortune hunter.”

Alec smiled ruefully. “I hope my heiress’s relations are not so particular.”

“I know of one who might suit your needs,” Byrne put in. When Alec turned to stare at him, he added with a shrug, “Gamblers do talk.”

Alec’s blood thundered in his ears. “So you’ll join this alliance, too?”

“The Royal Brotherhood.” A muscle ticked in Byrne’s jaw. “It’s all well and good for you and Draker—in the eyes of the law, you’re legitimate. But you can’t make me legitimate, or gain me the respect Prinny denied me and my mother.”

“Surely we can help you obtain
something
you want. I promise you’ll gain as much as we do from this enterprise.”

“I intend to,” Byrne said tersely. “Besides, it might be amusing to watch you succeed under our good father’s very nose.”

For the first time in many weeks, hope swelled in Alec’s chest. “Then it’s agreed? We’ll join hands as brothers to achieve all that we desire?”

“Agreed,” Draker murmured.

“Agreed.” Byrne poured more brandy for them all. “This calls for a toast.” He rose and lifted his glass.

“To the Royal Brotherhood of Bastards, and their future prosperity.”

The other two stood and lifted their glasses to echo the toast. They drank, and then Alec lifted his glass again with a grim smile. “And to Prinny, our royal sire. May he rot in hell.”

No woman can resist a man who undresses

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her with his eyes.

—Anonymous,
A Rake’s Rhetorick

Katherine Merivale couldn’t believe it. Apparently Papa’s scandalous chapbook had been right—a practiced rakehell
could
tempt a woman to sin with just a look. Because only a nun could resist the power of the Earl of Iversley’s gaze from across Lady Jenner’s ballroom. Katherine had never been so unsettled by a man’s stare. But then, no man had ever looked at her quite like that, either. She tried to ignore him. Yet everywhere the waltz took her and her dance partner, Sir Sydney Lovelace, she could feel Lord Iversley’s blue gaze following her, stripping her bare, unveiling all her secrets. And she didn’t even
have
any secrets.

If she were to believe the gossip about him, however,
he
certainly did—ten years of secrets from his wild and reckless adventures in exotic ports. And every one of those years showed in the darkly compelling eyes that promised he could make any woman yearn for his caresses…

Lord preserve her, how her imagination ran away with her! And what right did the Earl of Iversley have to undress her with his eyes, anyway? She hadn’t even been introduced to him, for goodness sake. After another circuit around the ballroom, she sneaked a glance to where his lordship still stood by the gallery doors, holding a glass of champagne. Lady Jenner was with him now, leaning forward to give the man a generous view of her ample bosom.

Katherine rolled her eyes. Just because Lord Iversley was a handsome devil in that striped white-on-white waistcoat and suit of jet-black superfine was no reason for women to slobber over him. Not that Katherine cared who slobbered over his lordship. She had Sydney, her betrothed. Her nearly betrothed, anyway, if he would ever get around to making their informal childhood “understanding” into a formal lifelong one.

All right, soSydney’s shoulders weren’t quite that broad, and his hair fell in precise golden ringlets instead of that gloriously rumpled mass of smoky black waves—

She stifled a groan. There was no comparison.Sydneyepitomized gentlemanly refinement. Lord Iversley looked downright dangerous, like that caged panther she and Mama had seen at the menagerie today. No true gentleman had such tanned skin, such large hands, such blatantly muscular thighs practically bursting from his tight knee breeches…

Goodness, what was wrong with her? And now both he and Lady Jenner were staring at her and murmuring together.

About her? Surely not. A man of his vast experience and taste for wild living would never pursue her. Not according to
The Rake’s Rhetorick
, that horrible book she’d found hidden in her late father’s study. It dictated that “since willing widows and wives abound, the pleasure-bent rake should avoid wellborn virgins. Seducing an innocent brings consequences that outweigh its delights.”

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She was certainly a wellborn virgin, and Lord Iversley was surely bent on the sort of pleasure only the Lady Jenners of this world could give.

“Kit?”Sydneysaid as he swept her into a turn.

She jerked her gaze from Lord Iversley. Wouldn’t it be wonderful ifSydneyhad noticed the earl staring at her and was now insanely jealous? “Yes?”

“You’re attending my reading tomorrow, aren’t you?”

Suppressing a sigh, she gazed up into the sweet face she knew as well as her own. “Of course. I’m looking forward to it.”

He beamed at her, then returned to his usual state of distraction, probably mulling over a difficult rhyme in his latest epic poem. No,Sydneywould never notice the earl’s glances. And ifSydneydidn’t act soon, Mama might make good on her threats. Katherine set her shoulders. Perhaps it was time to force her suitor’s hand. “I only wish I could also attend your reading at the Argyle Rooms next month.”

He blinked. “Why can’t you?”

“We lack the funds to stay inLondonmuch longer. Unless something changes in our situation, of course.”

How much broader a hint could she give?

With a frown, he glanced over at Katherine’s mother. “You can’t touch the funds your grandfather left you? You’ve spoken to the solicitor?”

“He says the will is inviolable. I can’t access my fortune until I marry.” Which was why Mama was driving her mad about settling her future.

“Dashed inconsiderate of your grandfather to do that to you.”

Katherine thought it rather clever. Between Papa’s illicit pursuits and Mama’s love of lavish spending, the money would have disappeared in a matter of weeks otherwise. Unfortunately, Grandfather hadn’t expected Katherine to take so long to marry. Or his son-in-law to die young and leave them in debt to half of Heath’s End.

Sydneywhirled her beneath the crystal chandeliers threaded with sprigs of cherry blossoms. “Perhaps I should speak to Mother about inviting you to stay at our town house.”

“No, we couldn’t impose.” And she cringed to think of Mama striding about his town house, calculating the cost of the furnishings. A week with Mama close by would makeSydneycry off for sure. “Besides, it might look improper.”

“True.” That seemed to settle the problem forSydney. “What an unusual gown you’re wearing tonight.”

All right, so he was changing the subject, but at least he’d noticed her carefully chosen attire. “Do you like it?”

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