The Heir (16 page)

“I
heard it from his own sister,” Edith Ward said. “He likes to champion the underdog. Who better would fit that description than Sabrina?”

“I wouldn’t mind being an underdog, if it would get
his
attention,” Jane remarked.

“You can’t just be an underdog because you want to, dear,” Edith told her. “You’re too pretty.”

Jane blushed, but was obviously disappointed, though at any other time she would have been thrilled by the compliment. But keeping in mind their purpose, she added, “Not that it will matter, once he notices Ophelia.”

Both girls had been trying to soothe Ophelia’s jealous nature, which they knew had been pricked when they had all spotted Sabrina leaving the breakfast room with the very handsome Raphael Locke by her side. The mere look of incredulity
that appeared on Ophelia’s face was enough to predict what would occur.

Mavis, on the other hand, was delighted by this turn of events. Actually, she had felt her world was finally righting itself when Ophelia’s scheme to get rid of her fiancé had turned on her and the gossip had turned against her. She had never before witnessed such just deserts as that. So she had been utterly disappointed to see Ophelia show up at Summers Glade this morning, apparently invited, which she knew, just as the others did, would put Ophelia right back into the position of reigning queen of the Season.

The
only
good thing about her appearance, as far as Mavis was concerned, was that she would now be around to witness Sabrina’s success, and that her campaign to ruin Sabrina’s debut hadn’t worked completely, at least not where MacTavish and Locke were concerned, apparently.

And Ophelia didn’t even know who Raphael Locke was yet, had never met him. None of the girls had, prior to yesterday when he’d arrived here with his sister. Amanda, they knew, of course, and had cornered her to find out that he was her brother,
the
Locke heir, who had only just returned to England from several years abroad, which was why they’d never met him or even heard of him before.

Unfortunately, it was more than likely that once he met Ophelia, he would fall at her feet in worship just as every other silly male did, Duncan MacTavish being the only exception to that, which Mavis truly admired him for. Edith and
Jane were of the same opinion, had only just been telling Ophelia about him as they brought her up to date on what had been happening, that he was the heir to a dukedom, how handsome and rich he was, how ideally suited he was for her if she was done with her ex-fiancé—when he’d appeared with Sabrina at his side. And it wasn’t by accident that they just happened to leave the room at the same time. They were talking and smiling together as they went off in search of chairs to sit on while they ate.

Of course, the three girls had been there to witness Sabrina’s success last night, in managing to capture Duncan MacTavish’s undivided attention for most of the evening. Jane and Edith had even been having a friendly argument over which of them would try to win him for themselves, now that Ophelia was done with him, until they’d seen how enthralled he seemed to be with Sabrina.

Not that they would
ever
mention that to Ophelia, at least Jane and Edith wouldn’t, and prayed she didn’t hear of it elsewhere. So they were both a bit incredulous when Mavis remarked with a snort, “Underdog, my foot. I tried to tell you that Sabrina has a winning way about her, but you all scoffed. The proof is she’s got the two most eligible men here vying for her attention.”

That immediately brought Ophelia’s narrowed blue eyes to Mavis with the demand, “What other man? Who are you talking about?”

“Why, your Duncan, of course,” Mavis relished saying before Jane and Edith could stop her.

Having said it, she barely managed to hide a triumphant smile. But she then scored even better, though she didn’t realize it yet. She couldn’t know, after all, that Ophelia had spent the night being uncommunicative with her hosts, locked up in her room, trying to figure out why Duncan hadn’t behaved as he ought to have behaved yesterday at their meeting.

“Didn’t Sabrina tell you how he barely left her side last night?” Mavis added.

Since Ophelia didn’t even know that Sabrina had
been
here at Summers Glade last night, she was being dealt a double blow. Nor was she adept at concealing her feelings. Though she
tried
to sound nonchalant in her reply, the myriad of emotions that had crossed her features were a dead giveaway that she was anything but.

“Sabrina isn’t one to reveal confidences, Ophelia pointed out.

“Nor successes, apparently. Pity, Mavis replied. “I for one would love to know what they found so amusing, that had them laughing for most of the evening.”

“Imply all you want, Mavis,” Edith jumped in, still trying to defuse Ophelia’s temper, though even she knew it was likely a lost cause, after everything Mavis had revealed. “It doesn’t mean either man would actually consider
marrying
her. Or are you forgetting her bad blood?”

“Well, who could forget
that?”
Mavis rejoined, tongue in cheek. “Especially when she appears so happy and—alive. But then it was such a silly rumor.”

“Are you forgetting who started the rumor?” Jane said in Ophelia’s defense.

“No, actually, I remember perfectly well who spitefully instigated its circulation again.”

There it was at last, a direct insult to Ophelia. Mavis was thrilled that she’d finally had the nerve to do it. And it didn’t go over Ophelia’s head as she’d feared it might. The gorgeous blonde wasn’t quite so gorgeous when her face was beet red with fury.

Edith gasped. Jane was too shocked for speech. Ophelia was sputtering, “Spiteful? You’re calling … me—!”

“Oh, yes, please do make a scene that will get you booted out of here for a
second
time,” Mavis interrupted with a brilliant smile. “Then perhaps the rest of us can actually enjoy ourselves again.”

Mavis turned to leave, aware that she’d completely severed her ties with this group, and proud of herself for finally doing so. But Edith and Jane, she had liked, at least when they weren’t behaving like brainless twits around Ophelia, and so she paused long enough to tell them, “When are you two going to wake up and realize that she’s no friend to you? She’d backstab you in a second if she thought it would get her something she wants, and have not a single regret for doing so.”

Mavis sauntered away with a bounce in her step and a grin on her lips. She knew she might as well pack her bags, that some atrocious rumor would start about her that very day. She just didn’t care anymore.

“Well, I never,” Jane huffed, unable to think of anything more appropriate to say after that shocking speech of Mavis’s.

“I never either,” Edith agreed.

“I’m not surprised, myself,” Ophelia said, recovering nicely, if boiling inside. “She’s such a liar, after all. I’ve caught her at it, oh, at least five times before, but was kind enough not to point out that I knew she was lying. Poor dear, I wonder if she just can’t help it. Some people can’t, you know.”

Twenty-three

“
S
it down, Archibald, we have a problem.’

The Scotsman took the seat across from Neville’s desk in his sitting room and gave his nemesis a narrowed if skeptical look. He hadn’t liked being
summoned,
as he saw it, hadn’t had his breakfast yet, hadn’t slept well last night, and the heat in this particular room had started him sweating the moment he entered it. More problems, he didn’t need.

“We?” he questioned. “And how would
we
be having a problem when the only thing we share in common is the lad, and he’s doing exactly what we asked o’ him? A fine passel o’ lassies ye hae gathered here, by the way, if I do say sae m’self. If I’d known ye had such an abundance o’ beauties down here, I might hae come tae visit after m’dear wife passed on, and found me anither one m’self.”

“Would that you had, then we might not be fighting over Duncan now,” Neville grumbled.

“Who’s fighting, eh? I could hae swore we were finally in agreement o’er the dividing o’ heirs.”

“Hardly a fitting solution, but not the point I wish to discuss either,” Neville replied. “If you didn’t notice last night, Duncan has done some inviting himself to this party, of one Sabrina Lambert, whom he proceeded to waste his time on the
entire
evening.”

“The buxom wee lass? Nicely shaped, but no’ exactly a beauty, sae dinna fash yerself o’er her, he’ll pick a pretty one in the end.”

Neville sighed and said in a weary tone, “I wish you wouldn’t harp so much on superficial beauty. A pretty face does
not
make for an ideal wife, as was so drastically found out with the Reid girl.”

“Course it does,” Archie disagreed blithely. “Ye dinna hae tae listen tae a wife, can ignore them as ye please, but ye do ha’ tae
look
at them every sae often, sae a pretty face does take precedent o’er an empty head.”

Neville rolled his eyes, but pointed out, “Duncan must not feel the same, since he is showing a marked interest in this particular girl. Now, he may just enjoy her company. He admitted as much. She amuses him. If that’s all it is, then there is no problem.”

Archie frowned at that point. “Yer no’ making sense yerself, mon. If ye dinna care if he weds a beauty or no’, as
ye
keep harping, wha’
is
yer
problem wi’ this lass? Is she no’ titled tae yer satisfaction?”

Neville sighed again. “Sabrina Lambert’s looks have not a thing to do with my concern, Archibald. As it happens, I think she’s quite pretty. Her eyes make all the difference, remarkable as they are.”

“Pretty eyes, eh? I didna notice.”

“Likely because all you look at are breasts and faces and so don’t take in any of the finer details a girl might possess, let alone if she had a lick of intelligence.”

Archie smiled over the sour tone. “Nae, I just havena met the lass yet tae get close enough tae see her eyes. It mun be her credentials yer objecting tae then.”

“No, as it happens, her great-grandfather Richard was a duke, her grandfather an earl. Her own father would have held that title as well, if he had survived his father, but he didn’t. She doesn’t need a title to be quite suitable in that regard, in fact, far surpasses most of the chits in attendance. What does concern me is she comes with two cantankerous old-maid aunts—”

Archie’s chuckle interrupted. “That’s yer problem, no’ mine, I’m pleased tae be saying. I’ll be going home after the wedding.”

“Thank God for that,” Neville said with undisguised relief. “But she also comes with a forty-year-old scandal that I’m told is making the rounds again.”

Archibald was no longer amused, sat forward to demand, “What sort o’ scandal?”

“Not one that I ever gave much credence to, since I happen to have known Richard Lambert personally, knew how clumsy he was with weapons. He bloody near shot my foot off once when we were hunting together, so it was entirely possible that he shot himself by accident, rather than deliberately as the story goes. His wife, now, was a silly twit who I have little doubt did kill herself when the scandal broke that he had. She wouldn’t have had the courage to dispute it, nor the courage to face the ridicule over it.”

“Tha’ hardly seems the stuff o’ scandal tae me,” Archie scoffed.

“I would agree, if that were all of it, but there was a daughter who did the same, and her son and daughter-in-law—Sabrina’s own parents—who did likewise. Are you getting the point yet, Archibald? When our main concern is another heir who will continue both our lines, do we really want to take the chance that there might be any truth to this girl’s sad history?”

“Does Duncan know all this?”

“You think he confides in me? I have no idea if he’s aware of it, though he may have heard the gossip. Would it make a difference to him?”

Archibald frowned thoughtfully. “Likely it wouldna, and definitely no’ if ye bring it up tae him.”

Neville’s lips tightened at the implication. “Haven’t we been over this before? I know you would like to think that the boy would be stubborn and go against his own common sense just to spite me, but I give him more credit than that.
However, on this marriage business, he is more likely to listen to you, so find out if he knows, and if he doesn’t, apprise him and make clear that this chit simply won’t do.”

Archie actually nodded in agreement for once, though he did add hopefully, “’lis likely nae more than ye said, that she amuses him.”

“As I
also
said, there would then be no problem,
but
the very fact that Lady Ophelia Reid is back under my roof this morning—”

Archie cut in, “The devil she is—

Neville cut back in,
“Because
she happens to be a guest of the Lamberts at the moment, and they were invited by Duncan despite that fact. This either means he was smitten by her beauty after all—which should delight
you
—and has decided to forgive her insults and marry her anyway, or he’s serious about the Lambert girl. Take your pick, Archibald. I’m pleased with neither.”