How to Dazzle a Duke (13 page)

“But Iveston, all ships do eventually heave anchor. I’ve en

joyed more than a few ports of call.”

“A metaphor, Cranleigh?”

“Not entirely,” Cranleigh answered with a brief smile.

“What are you suggesting?” Iveston asked, for he knew Cran

leigh as well as Cranleigh knew him. In discussions of this sort,

a wager was the inevitable outcome.

“Nothing at all tawdry, I assure you.” To which Iveston

snorted in disbelief, which caused John Grey and his three sons

to look at him in sudden interest. Iveston nodded curtly and re

focused his attention back to his brother. “Miss Prestwick seems

a lovely enough woman.” And here Iveston came very nearly

close to snorting again. He did manage to refrain. “I would not

see her ill used for our entertainment.”

“
Your
entertainment, Cranleigh. Don’t forget, I think her a

trained bear.”

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87

“As to that, Iveston,” Cranleigh said with that same, small

smile, “I should think that, what with your self-proclaimed skill

at managing women you should be able to coax something

from Miss Prestwick, particularly as you state she is already

trained to respond to either encouragement or direction. Which,

would you say?”

“A lump of sugar, would be my guess,” Iveston said stiffl y,

avoiding looking at Miss Prestwick, whom he was certain, was

staring at Edenham with all the subtlety of a cannon blast.

“Now, now, you shan’t get far with her with that attitude,”

Cranleigh said, grinning, the sot.

“I haven’t agreed to anything, you realize,” Iveston said, “and

I can’t think how you’d induce me to. I have nothing to prove to

either you or myself, and certainly not upon the very peculiar

Miss Prestwick.”

“Don’t you?” Cranleigh asked. “Not even to Miss Prestwick?

I do think that is where the heart of the matter lies. Why not

prove to Miss Prestwick that you are not a man to be discarded

without a second glance?”

“Come, come, I don’t want even a first glance from her,”

Iveston said stoutly.

“Of course you don’t,” Cranleigh said. He sounded distinctly

sarcastic. “But she doesn’t know that, does she? Shall we not

wager that you cannot attain her interest for, say, a week?”

Iveston looked at Miss Prestwick. She was, as to be expected,

arguing with her brother while staring at Edenham. Edenham,

also fulfi lling expectation, was ignoring her. One could almost

feel some pity for the odd little thing. Almost.

“A week? I should go mad. Say a day instead.”

“A day? But how can anything of that sort be measured in a

day?” Cranleigh countered. “Unless you expect to shadow her

every moment of that single day.”

“Hardly,” Iveston said coldly. Iveston, when the occasion

88 CLAUDIA DAIN

required it, could be quite as stiffl y formal as any marquis could

be. He found, in this instance, that the occasion required it fully.

“I should go barking mad. What say you to three days?”

“Three days,” Cranleigh mused, rocking a bit on his heels. “I

should think three days ought to work out nicely. How are we to

measure it and who is to be the arbiter?”

“Oh, come now,” Iveston said. “It shall be as perfectly obvious

as it’s always been. She’ll behave as they all do, all simpering

looks and sweet smiles and dipping bodices. It will be obvious

to all.”

“Perhaps, but I would feel better about it if we had a disinter

ested third party.”

“Edenham?” Iveston said, grinning.

Cranleigh gave him a look and then said, “What about

Mr. Grey?”

“Lady Dalby’s brother?”

“No, he’s too disinterested to even agree to take part. I was

thinking of Mr. George Grey.”

They both turned to consider the Indian, oldest of the three

sons and Sophia’s nephew. It was a strange coincidence in

deed that he was staring back at them. That seemed enough to

settle it.

“Done,” Iveston said. “Three days, starting now, Mr. Grey to

pronounce. Shall I broach the subject to him or shall you?”

“I shall. You have enough to do with Miss Prestwick, don’t

you? Best get to it, before she carries Edenham out of the room

over her shoulder,” Cranleigh said with a grin.

“I thought that was your duty,” Iveston said mockingly, as it was

now and forevermore a well-known fact that Cranleigh had carried

his wife over his shoulder before she was his wife. Just look how

well it had all turned out, if one wanted to be married, that is.

6

How to Daz zle a Duke

89

“MISS Prestwick looks at you like a woman who wants to be mar

ried,” Tannington said.

Edenham glanced at Tannington and did something with his

mouth that was nearly a smile, but wasn’t. “Most women have

that look. I used to believe they were born with it. Until I had my

daughter. I now know it is a learned response that envelops a

woman at a certain age,” Edenham said, setting his cup down

upon the table nearest him. “At what age I cannot say.”

“Shall I offer an opinion?” Sophia said. “It depends entirely

upon the woman. Some women never reach it.”

“Never?” Tannington said. “I’ve yet to meet a woman who

hasn’t.”

“You’ve met me,” Sophia said with the slightest degree of chill

to her voice.

“Yet you married,” Tannington said.

“Yet without the requisite look, Lord Tannington, which is

what I believe we were discussing.”

“What look did you wear, Lady Dalby?” Lord Ruan asked.

“I should think a most satisfied one,” she answered, “as is my

habit.”

“A most delightful habit,” Ruan said softly, standing between

her and Tannington, Edenham at her side. Ruan did not mind

Edenham’s presence as it was plain that he and Sophia were

friends and only that. Tannington, however, was a threat, a pred

ator to Sophia’s affections that he was not prepared to tolerate. It

was supremely helpful that Sophia clearly had no use for Tan

nington, not that Tannington seemed to appreciate that fact.

Lord Tannington was, by every description of him, a deter

mined man to an almost ruthless degree. He wanted Sophia, that

was plain and perfectly natural of him. He could not have her. If

Sophia had not already decided that, and he would be shocked

if she hadn’t, then Ruan had. Lord Ruan had danced around

Sophia Dalby for nearly a month now and seen very little in the

90 CLAUDIA DAIN

way of results. He was not going to allow Tannington to slow his

momentum now, however paltry it was.

“It was Dalby who wore the look then, if I remember,” Edenham said. “He was most determined to have you, wasn’t he?”

Sophia turned so that Tannington was slightly behind her and

out of her line of sight. She smiled at Edenham with all the

warmth of an old friend. Ruan felt himself relax, slightly. Regard

ing Sophia, one was a fool to relax fully.

“He said as much,” Sophia said.

“How very peculiar,” Tannington said softly. “I was told he

had you already, repeatedly.”

Edenham didn’t have the chance to respond, no, nor Ruan

either, though his mouth was already open to call the man out.

“But darling,” Sophia said smoothly, her dark eyes shining in

what could only be termed malicious joy, “there is such a differ

ence between having what a woman parcels out to a man, drip

by beggarly drip, and having all she is, never-endingly. But it’s

quite obvious that you have no way of knowing that. And likely

never shall. It was so good of you to drop by and pay your debt.

I do so appreciate a man who knows how to lose.”

Ruan wasn’t certain how it was arranged, but Fredericks and

two footmen appeared to nearly surround Tannington, silently

encouraging him to leave without making a fuss. He did. Both

leave and not make a fuss. But he looked far from pleased about

it. Who would?

“There goes my best chance,” Ruan said under his breath,

taking a step nearer to Sophia. She lifted her dark lashes and

gave him an inquisitive look. “I was completely prepared to call

him out and engage him in a nasty duel, which I would have

won. You would have been most impressed. It was to have been

my finest, most romantic gesture of the year. Now I shall have to

wait for another opportunity to dazzle you. Can you wait, Lady

Dalby?”

How to Daz zle a Duke

91

“It seems I must, Lord Ruan,” she said, a smile playing around

the corners of her mouth. “But I do confess some curiosity. What

was your fi nest gesture of the previous year?”

“I hate to boast,” he said.

“Is that the gesture? How odd,” Sophia said, smiling fully now.

He loved to see her smile. She was not miserly with her smiles,

far from it, but this sort of smile, the sort that took her unawares

and took her over, those were rare. He wanted that from her. He

wanted nothing of the careful sophistication that the rest of the

world saw from her. He wanted what no other man, or damned

few, had seen. He wanted her joy.

“I sang,” he said. “Under a window. In the rain.”

“Did she let you in?” Sophia asked, grinning.

“Immediately and completely,” Ruan answered. “I made

quite a dashing fi gure.”

“Even wet,” she said.

“Especially wet,” he countered. “The wetter the better, has

been my experience.”

“Darling Lord Ruan, are you in the habit of making romantic

gestures? How exhausting for you.”

“I have nothing if not stamina,” he said. “Determination

as well.”

“Lord Ruan,” she said sweetly, “I do think you’ll need both.”

“You are a severe taskmaster, Sophia,” Edenham said. “What

would you have of him? Song?”

“Oh, no, not song. I would not steal another woman’s victory,”

Sophia said. “Which brings me round to Miss Prestwick, Edenham. You are, as you must certainly know, every woman’s dream

of the ideal husband. It is entirely natural for Miss Prestwick to

have formed a certain fascination for you, and indeed, it is quite

obvious to even the most disinterested observer, though who that

could be I have no idea, that she would very much like to attract

your notice.”

92 CLAUDIA DAIN

“I don’t like to boast,” Edenham said with a small shrug

for Ruan. “Yet, I had noticed some small bit of something on

her part.”

“She’s a charming girl, a bit unusual, but that’s only to her

advantage, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I might,” Edenham said slowly, studying Sophia.

“Well then, what more is there to say? If you want her to be

your fourth wife, she’s entirely at your disposal. The decision is

entirely yours, Edenham. Do you want her or not?”

6

“YOU want me to judge if she wants you or not?” George Grey

asked. “Can’t you tell?”

“Of course I can tell,” Iveston said. “It’s only that, for the

purposes of the wager, an entirely innocent wager—”

“Not entirely innocent,” Dalby interjected.

“No harm will come to the girl,” Iveston said. “Surely you

can’t think that simply talking to her at a few events would lead

to her ruin?”

“I’ve seen very little more lead to a girl’s ruin,” Dalby said.

“My own sister, for one.”

“As you were not in Town, and yet as I would say nothing to

offend you or your family,” Cranleigh said, “there was slightly

more to your sister’s situation than talking.”

Dalby, a decade younger than Cranleigh and a full stone

lighter in weight, did not look put off by either fact. Dalby took

a half step nearer to Cranleigh and said stiffly, “How much more,

Lord Cranleigh?”

“Only slightly, Lord Dalby,” Cranleigh said softly. “As I have

my own history with my wife to hobble me, I am hardly likely to

cast a single stone at any woman, particularly a woman who is so

blissfully wed as your sister gives every appearance of being.”

“My sister is not in Town,” Dalby said.

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93

“Hence, my conclusion,” Cranleigh said with a small smile.

“As soon as an Elliot ship arrives in port, I will also escape Town

with my bride.”

“The
Plain Jane
should arrive within the month,” George

Grey said.

Cranleigh looked sharply at George Grey. “You know of the

Elliots, and their ships?”

“You’re surprised?” George countered. “How did you think

Sophia got to England the fi rst time? An Elliot ship took her.”

“A merchant ship?” Cranleigh said. “Why?”

“As a gift,” John Grey said, his dark eyes flat and hard. “At

Sally’s insistence.”

“
My
Aunt Sally?” Iveston said. How was it that this sort of

information, information his mother and certainly his aunt

had possessed for twenty or more years, had never been dis

cussed with him?

“Why would my aunt give Sophia a gift?” Cranleigh said on

the heels of Iveston’s question.

“Since no one has told you, it must be none of your concern,”

John said.

He was an Indian. He had no status, no position, no title. Yet

Iveston knew without question that the matter was closed, at least