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Authors: Lynsay Sands

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BOOK: The Heiress
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They were both breathing heavily when Daniel broke this kiss, and his voice was again that strange combination of soft and rough as he insisted, “One night. Surely it is not too much to ask. This night is almost over anyway. Just give me until tomorrow.”

Suzette would have agreed to almost anything at that point and nodded silently as she tugged at his neck, trying to pull him back for more kissing. Much to her disappointment, Daniel resisted her pull and gently reached around to remove her hands, saying, “We’d best go in.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but paused as a tinkle of laughter drifted to her on the night air. They were just on the edge of the trees, but still in their shadow, and she could see a couple talking as they crossed the terrace toward the steps into the garden proper. Sighing, Suzette nodded and allowed him to lead her toward the terrace. She remained silent as he escorted her inside, but her thoughts were anything but. Her mind was a riot of excitement, anticipation and worry. She had found the perfect man for her needs. She merely had to wait until the next day and pray he agreed to her proposal. Suzette sincerely hoped he would. She couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else after enjoying his kisses. She simply couldn’t imagine Lord Willthrop or any of the others she’d met so far coaxing the heat and passion from her that Daniel had in those few short moments in the garden.

“I
t’s good to see both you and Richard out and about. It’s been too long.”

Daniel mumbled a polite, but somewhat distracted response to Lord Jamieson’s words. Nathaniel, Baron Jamieson had been a comrade in school, one of the group of young men who had kept company with him and Richard in those days. Daniel had been glad to spot the man among the crowd as he’d escorted Suzette back indoors, and once he’d seen her safely to Lisa’s side, he’d approached him in the hopes of gaining some gossip on what had been occurring this last year while he and Richard had been absent. It had seemed a good idea to find out all he could. The more they knew, the better prepared Richard would be to make decisions on how to move forward.

Unfortunately, Daniel had barely joined and greeted Jamieson when he’d noted Lord Garrison approaching Suzette to claim her for a dance. The sight hadn’t pleased him. Garrison was a bachelor who Daniel happened to know was in dire need of coin if he wished to avoid debtor’s prison. He was also handsome, charming and had deflowered more naïve young girls their first year out than most of the other bounders put together. A pure hedonist, the man was known to overindulge in wine, women and gambling in copious amounts. It was what had seen him in the position he was now in.

“In fact, I haven’t seen either of you for nearly a year now,” Jamieson commented. “Of course, Richard was in mourning and not attending many social functions from what I understand. Word is this is the first ball he’s been to since his brother’s death.”

Daniel grunted in the positive, his gaze following Suzette and Garrison on the dance floor and then—noting that she was peering questioningly back toward her sister— he glanced that way to see the young blonde making several hand signals he didn’t understand. Lisa seemed to be telling her something, and also seemed pleased to be able to do so. Judging by Suzette’s suddenly happy smile it was obvious she too was pleased. He himself was less pleased when she turned that wide beaming smile on Garrison and began to laugh and chatter with him gaily as they danced.

The little hussy was flirting with the man, Daniel thought with dismay. It seemed that while Suzette had promised not to approach anyone else with her proposal until the next day, she intended to still seek out men who would suit her purpose. While it was probably the sensible thing for her to do, it still annoyed him. Daniel had no intention of marrying her himself. However, he felt sure that Richard would be willing to pay off their father’s gambling debts to spare the girl sacrificing herself on the marriage mart to do so. And if he wasn’t willing, Daniel had half a mind to do it himself.

Not that he thought much of gambling away a fortune in gaming hells. Having been without for so long, Daniel had a healthy respect for money and didn’t think much of people who didn’t. But he suspected George, as the much loathed Dicky, had somehow brought that about. It just didn’t make sense to him that a man like Lord Madison, who had lived a very respectable and sedate life in the country and never gambled would suddenly do so, possibly at the goading of George as Dicky if what Suzette had overheard could be believed. And then doing so, it was hard to believe Lord Madison would have been so irresponsible as to get himself in so deep that he had been in danger of losing everything if George, again as Dicky, hadn’t stepped in to pay the debt and marry his daughter.

On top of that, once a man experienced something like that on his first outing gambling, he was usually more likely to forever after avoid such places, and yet the man had been lured there again, and this time definitely by George as Dicky. Daniel was pretty sure George had instigated both events for some reason known only to him. Though Daniel hadn’t a clue why.

Whatever the case, he’d rather pay off Madison’s debt himself than see Suzette marrying the first desperate bounder willing to let her pay off the debt. Daniel had no idea why. He’d only met the woman less than an hour ago, but there was just something about her that fascinated him and he found himself reluctant to see her in such a position if he could prevent it.

“Although, if the gossips are to be believed, while he hasn’t attended social events, Richard hasn’t spent the last year always at home either,” Jamieson commented, and then asked, “Is it true he’s taken to hanging about with a certain fellow who calls himself Cerberus?”

Daniel stiffened, the last word catching his ear and managing to wrench his attention from Suzette and her dance partner. Cerberus was the three-headed dog who guarded the gates to Hades in Greek mythology. “Who the devil is Cerberus?”

“Ah.” Jamieson’s lips curved into a satisfied smile at knowing something he didn’t. “Of course, I suppose you haven’t heard about him, being away from town as long as you have. How go the repairs to the old family estates, by the by?”

“Fine,” Daniel said impatiently. “Now who is Cerberus?”

“The owner of a new gaming hell that opened up about a year ago,” Jamieson confided. He shook his head. “It’s already earned itself the shadiest of reputations and most of the ton steer clear of the place. Rumors abound that the unwary players are drugged and fleeced of as much wealth as can be gained.”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “And you say there are rumors circulating that Geo—Dicky befriended this Cerberus who runs this place?”

Jamieson nodded, but grimaced and said, “I’d heard Richard was having people call him Dicky now. Hard to believe. He always hated it when George called him that.”

“Yes, and he still does,” Daniel assured him.

“But you just called him that,” the man pointed out with a start.

“A slip of the tongue,” he assured him grimly, turning back to check on Suzette again and scowling when he saw that Garrison was holding the girl far too close in the turns. Not as close as he had held her in the gardens, but still too damned close for his liking . . . and she wasn’t pushing him away either. She obviously considered Garrison a suitable backup if he said no to her proposal. The hell of it was, Garrison would probably jump at the offer to marry her if she made it. He would certainly not find the idea of bedding the woman as any kind of chore. Taking her money would be a pleasure to him, and her request to lead separate lives would probably make him the happiest damned bounder around. Hell, if Garrison had been the one in the garden with her rather than himself, the chit would probably already have been deflowered out in the garden and on her way to Gretna Green even now.

For some reason, that knowledge caused a twisting in his gut that brought a grimace to his face. Daniel could actually see her sprawled amongst the flowers in the garden, her skirts hitched up, moonlight dappling her passion-wreathed face, and Garrison pounding himself into her with happy little grunts. Hell, she would be the perfect prize to the bounder. But Garrison wouldn’t treat her right. He’d quickly tire of her, dump her in the country and go off whoring and drinking and gambling away her dower until she found herself on the verge of ruin and scandal again. And then hers would be another life ruined by George’s machinations.

Much to his relief the dance ended then and Garrison saw Suzette back to Lisa’s side, and then stepped aside as another man, the much older and rotund Lord Alliston, approached to claim her for the next dance. Once again Suzette glanced to Lisa in question as she joined Lord Alliston on the dance floor, and was again given a series of mysterious signals, but seemed more resigned than pleased by them this time, though they appeared similar to those given for Lord Garrison. Knowing that Lord Alliston was in search of a well-heeled bride himself, Daniel guessed the signals were to indicate as much to Suzette but this time she wasn’t all that pleased at the knowledge. However, he
was
pleased to see her safely in the old man’s arms rather than Garrison’s. While Alliston had been a roué when younger, he wasn’t known to force himself on a woman and was relatively harmless now.

Daniel’s gaze slid to the other couples on the dance floor then. He had noted Christiana dancing with Harburt when he’d brought Suzette back in, and had then spotted Richard standing on the sidelines watching grimly. Now the woman was in another man’s arms and he suspected she was happily accepting requests to dance to avoid the man she thought was her husband. Richard was still merely watching grimly from the crowd around the dance floor. It seemed obvious he was in no state of mind to talk to people and find out anything useful. But then, Daniel supposed he wasn’t likely to learn much about what George had been up to this last year. People were hardly going to gossip to him about himself. It was obviously up to Daniel to find out what he could.

“So,” he said, turning his attention abruptly to Jamieson again. “Tell me everything you’ve heard this last year regarding Richard.”

Jamieson immediately launched into the telling, happy to reveal what he’d heard and Daniel listened silently. He needed to learn all he could. He was really beginning to believe that the smartest thing Richard could do at this point was remove George’s body and step back into his life as if he’d never left it. Truly, the more Daniel thought on it, the more he began to think it was the
only
way to guarantee Richard did get his name and title back. It meant remaining married to Christiana though, which didn’t seem that bad a deal. She was an attractive enough woman if a little thin, and from his talk with Suzette and the things she’d said, Christiana seemed a nice enough gel. She certainly didn’t deserve the scandal that would ensue if George’s actions came to light, nor did Suzette and Lisa. And Richard could do worse when it came to wives. Of course, in the end it was Richard’s decision . . . and he was going to find out all he could to help him make that decision.

Chapter Three

“I
swear he was dead, Chrissy. He was growing cold when we left tonight.”

Lisa’s words made Suzette glance swiftly around the entry of the Fairgrave townhouse as she pulled the door closed. It wouldn’t do to be overheard by servants on the subject that had obsessed them all since leaving the Landons’ ball. They had left the ball earlier than intended. Christiana had suggested perhaps they should stay longer to give her a chance to consider more men, but Suzette hadn’t wanted to. She was tired after the long journey to London and the day’s many and varied events. Besides, the ball had no longer seemed all that exciting by that point.

While the beginning of the night had been disheartening with all the poor choices she’d been faced with as prospects, the night had seemed to pick up and become much more exciting and hopeful with Daniel’s arrival. He had certainly seemed a far more pleasant prospect for a husband. She still tingled in spots when she recalled his kisses.

As if his arrival were some sort of happy harbinger, there had been a couple more pleasant prospects afterward. Lord Garrison had certainly been handsome and charming, but she still found Daniel more attractive, perhaps because of those kisses. There had been at least two more men after him who had been—if not handsome—at least passable and pleasant. Any one of the three would do as a substitute if Daniel chose not to marry her. But they would be second best and Suzette was too anxious about his eventual response to enjoy the chore of weeding out further men.

Besides, the sparkle had seemed to go out of the night after she’d spotted Dicky and Daniel leaving the ball, and Suzette had decided she’d just rather go back to the townhouse and crawl into bed. The sooner she was asleep, the sooner the next day would come with her answer from Daniel. At this time the next night she might even be on her way to Gretna Green with him.

If that wasn’t the case, however, Suzette was very aware that she would have to attend the Hammonds’ ball to choose her substitute husband, and while Daniel had assured her that he would talk to Dicky and convince him to let the girls attend the Hammonds’ ball, she wasn’t at all sure he could manage that. Not that she was particularly worried about Dicky. She planned to attend the ball whether he liked it or not and there was little he could do to stop her. He might have full control over Christiana as her husband, but he wasn’t hers and she had no intention of bowing to him and his whims. But she suspected if she was forced to do that, Christiana would pay for it in some way and she didn’t like the idea of that at all. Perhaps rather than simply walk out and openly going to the ball, she should sneak out to attend it.

Suzette grimaced at the necessity. Truly, Dicky would have been doing them all a favor had he stayed dead, she thought for the umpteenth time that night. It made her cast a pitying glance Christiana’s way, for she was the one who would now have to continue to put up with the horrible man’s critical and controlling ways, and—from what Christiana had confessed that day as they’d packed Dicky in ice—her marriage thus far had been a nightmare.

Suzette’s expression turned to a frown of concern when she noted that her older sister appeared to be a little unsteady on her feet. Christiana had seemed to have a little trouble quitting the carriage when they’d arrived as well and Suzette was beginning to worry that her sister was a bit soused. It wouldn’t surprise her. Christiana had accidentally downed Robert Langley’s whiskey just before they’d left the ball. Not being a drinker, it was entirely possible the potent drink had gone to her head. That possibility became a certainty in Suzette’s mind when Christiana said, “He must have made a deal with the devil to come back.”

The words made Suzette’s eyes widen incredulously. She was usually the one to make such improper statements. Christiana was more likely to hush her and warn her to be polite and smile and keep such nasty thoughts to herself. It seemed drink had loosened her tongue, however. Worried about what she might say in this state, Suzette found herself in the rare position of cautioning, “Hush, one of the servants will hear.”

The words had barely left her lips when Haversham appeared at the end of the hall, hurrying toward them. He paused, however, and turned away when Christiana waved him off. She then staggered a bit to the side.

Catching her arm, Suzette eyed her with concern. “Are you all right, Chrissy? You are not at all steady on your feet.”

“I’m fine,” Christiana answered gaily.

“I fear those drinks Langley gave her may have affected her after all,” Lisa said with concern, taking her other arm as Christiana next weaved in her direction.

“Surely two drinks wouldn’t affect her this much,” Suzette protested.

“Two drinks on an empty stomach might,” Lisa reasoned.

“Three drinks,” Christiana muttered.

“Three?” Suzette peered at her with surprise. “When did you have a third one?”

“A firsht one,” Christiana corrected and paused to frown at the slur. She spoke with more care as she explained. “I drank Dicky’s whiskey earlier. It’s okay though, I actually feel good.”

“Oh dear,” Lisa said.

Suzette merely shook her head. She had no idea when Christiana had consumed the third drink, or the first one as she claimed. However, it seemed she’d had two glasses of whiskey as well as the punch. It was no wonder she was in this state, and it was sure to get worse since the last two drinks had only been downed a matter of ten or fifteen minutes ago and would still be working their way through her system.

“Well, at least she feels good, probably for the first time since marrying that odious man,” Suzette said wryly, and then added, “He probably
did
make a deal with the devil to return.”

“ ‘S what I said,” Christiana pointed out. Stopping, she flopped her hand vaguely about.

Holding onto the arm attached to that hand, Suzette pursed her lips, not sure what the woman was doing. It was Lisa who sighed pitiably at Christiana’s state.

“What are we going to do, Suzie? We can’t let her stay married to him.”

“Oh.” Christiana swung toward Lisa, tugging at the arm Suzette held, but she kept a firm grip on her, afraid she would fall on her face. Christiana stopped trying to get free and simply said, “Don’ worry. I’ll fixsh it.”

“How?” Lisa sounded as dubious as Suzette felt.

“I’ll get to the
bottom
of it,” Christiana announced, and then burst into a bout of inexplicable laughter.

Suzette watched her uncertainly for a moment, but then shared a worried glance with Lisa who seemed just as confused by this reaction as she was. Neither of them could find anything funny in the situation.

“Perhaps we’d best get her to bed,” Lisa murmured. “She appears to be getting worse.”

“Aye,” Suzette said dryly and they began to urge Christiana up the stairs.

“I
think they’re gone.”

Daniel didn’t immediately react to that whisper from Richard. He was considering what he’d heard. It seemed Christiana was a little the worse for drink. He hadn’t caught much more than that before the women had moved away up the hall, their voices fading. He and Richard were hiding in one of the guest rooms at the Fairgrave townhouse. Well, he, Richard and George were. Daniel sighed and shook his head at finding himself in this predicament. It was a natural progression of events that had landed him here. He’d garnered all the info he could on what George had been up to this last year as Richard “Dicky” Fairgrave, then gone to Richard with the information as well as the suggestion that the easiest way to handle the situation was for him to simply step back into his life and replace George as if he’d never left it.

Richard hadn’t been as resistant to the idea as Daniel had expected once he’d pointed out that it would help him to avoid a lengthy court proceeding to prove he was the Earl of Radnor. Richard had also preferred the idea of evading the scandal revealing George’s antics would have brought about, and claimed he’d rather not cast Christiana and her family into scandal and ruin over her not legal marriage. After all, she and her family were innocent victims of George just as he was and really the woman had suffered enough being married to the man this last year. Since revealing all wouldn’t punish George, who was beyond punishment now, all going to the authorities at this point would have done was punish everyone else.

In fact, Richard’s one protest had been about the marriage itself and the worry that he and Christiana might not suit. After all, the woman did seem to dislike the Dicky she thought she was married to.

Daniel had understood, but pointed out that some time might ease that should Richard treat her well. He’d then suggested that if he wished a little time to decide one way or another they could always remove George’s body for now and keep him handy. That would give Richard at least a day or so to get to know Christiana better and decide if he could bear marriage to her. If he did decide they would do well together, they could get rid of the body. If not, they could place George back in his bed and then Richard could go to the authorities as if he had only just now returned to England.

Daniel had barely finished making the suggestion when Richard was striding out of the ballroom, determined to make his way to the townhouse to find said body and move it before the women returned from the ball and realized something was amiss. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded. First of all, they could hardly walk in the front door when the dead George hadn’t walked out and was thought to be ill in bed by the servants in the house. On top of that, since Richard’s townhouse had burnt to the ground, George had purchased a new one, and they hadn’t known the layout. They’d had to survey the house, guess at which room might be the master bedroom, and had then climbed a tree to get in the window.

It hadn’t taken more than a look to establish that George was definitely dead, but they’d quickly run into the second problem when Richard had noted the scent of bitter almonds by the man’s mouth. It seemed the imposter hadn’t died of natural causes as the women seemed to think. Poison was the culprit. Deciding that was a worry to consider later, they’d stripped George of his clothes which had been sopping wet from the melting ice, wrapped him in a blanket and started to cart him out, which had led to more problems. The women had apparently locked the door to the hall, no doubt to prevent servants from entering to find their dead lord. Forced to take the body out through the connecting bedroom which happened to be occupied by a sleeping maid, Richard had hefted his brother’s stiff body in his arms, leaving Daniel to lead the way and handle the doors.

They’d managed to make it through the room without waking the maid, and all the way to the top of the stairs before the next problem had arisen in the form of the women returning from the ball and entering the foyer below. In a panic, Daniel and Richard had rushed back along the upper hall, and then ducked into this room to wait for the way to be clear.

“We’d best move while we have the chance,” Richard said behind him. “Once they have Christiana in bed, the girls will no doubt seek their own rooms and this could be one of them.”

Daniel nodded and eased the door open to check the hall. When a quick glance in both directions showed it to be empty, he pulled the door wide and stepped out of the way for Richard to lead with his burden. He then started to follow, but had barely taken a step when Richard suddenly whirled back toward him. Caught by surprise, Daniel was slow to react. Before he could, Richard cursed, and suddenly thrust George’s body on him.

Pure instinct made Daniel grab at the blanket-encased corpse. He then found himself stumbling back under a push from Richard, a very stiff George caught to his chest in some sort of macabre dance as the door closed leaving him alone in the dark room. Regaining his footing, Daniel stood absolutely still in the lightless chamber, simply listening as he tried to figure out why Richard hadn’t followed him into the room. He relaxed a little when he heard the other man’s voice muffled through the door, saying, “Ladies. Might I convince you both to join me in my office for a drink before you retire?”

Daniel adjusted the hold he had on George, but it helped little. The man was stiff as a board and unbending. He may as well have been a life-sized statue. Shaking his head, Daniel moved closer to the door to listen to what was taking place in the hall as someone said, “No, thank you.”

Daniel recognized Lisa’s voice and wasn’t surprised at the stiffness in it. None of the women liked Dicky and they thought Richard was him right now.

“I need to talk to you!”

Daniel stilled at the panic in Richard’s voice, worried about what might have caused it. Dear God, he hoped he wasn’t in Lisa’s room, he thought, but the desperation in Richard’s voice and the fact that he sounded closer to the door wasn’t reassuring as he said, “I realize I’ve been a bit of an ass to your sister—”

“A bit?” That was Suzette and Daniel found himself grinning at her tone of voice. The woman gave no quarter. He liked that.

“All right, a lot of an ass,” Richard said sounding pained. “The point is, my brush with death tonight has awakened me to what is important in this life, and I would dearly like to make it up to Christiana and, if possible, mend our relationship. I was hoping you could advise me on how to do that.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow at the words, really quite impressed. To his mind it was a stroke of brilliance for Richard to use the whole supposedly almost dying today thing as an impetus for change. It would certainly make it easier to explain away the difference between Dicky and Richard.

“Are you sincere about this?” Lisa asked quietly.

“Of course he isn’t,” Suzette said with irritation. “A leopard does not change its spots.”

“He changed his spots going from nice to nasty after marrying Christiana,” Lisa pointed out. “Perhaps he can change again.”

“That wasn’t changing his spots,” Suzette sounded grim. “Those spots were fake ones he’d painted on to get her to marry him so that he could get his hands on her dower. He just washed them off once he’d accomplished that and reverted to his true, nasty nature.”

BOOK: The Heiress
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