How to Dazzle a Duke (31 page)

It was as she was considering it that she heard voices. George’s

voice.

Of all the instances when a girl did not want to see her brother,

now was a prime example.

Her hands went to her hair, which was a sodden mess, and

then to her dress, which was twisted and damp and wrinkled far

beyond anything seemly or even accidental, and then her eyes

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221

went to the door as it opened and both her brother George and

Sophia’s George stepped out onto the fl ags.

“Here you are,” her brother said. “What are you doing out in

the rain, Pen?”

George Grey looked at her, his face more than half hidden in

shadow. His face was expressionless and a more frightening

aspect she had never before seen. He looked, dare she say it,

like a complete savage. How could George be so easy in his

company?

“A wager, I’m afraid,” Iveston said calmly, looking not the

least discomfited by being interrupted by her brother when he

had just been seducing her not a half minute before. If that wasn’t

just like the son of a duke. Quite above it all, wasn’t he? Untouch

able. Unfl appable.

Unappealing toad.

“What sort of wager?” George asked, and quite rightly, too.

He didn’t look at all willing to overlook the situation, which was

utterly astute of him. She didn’t want to see them duel, naturally,

but a good thrashing never killed anyone, did it?

“A quite simple one, actually,” Iveston said, looking com

pletely normal and at ease, which was the most annoying thing

about him at the moment. Given a half an hour, she was quite

confident she’d have a fi rm list of at least twelve annoying items

arranged in alphabetical order. “Though, I must admit, seeing us

now, a quite foolish one as well.”

George was looking them over very carefully, as was the other

George. What must they look like?

Ruined?

No, no, no. She was not going to allow herself to be ruined by

Iveston. It was Edenham who was going to ruin her. She’d got it

all worked out! Nearly.

“Quite certainly foolish,” George said, looking quite nearly

grim.

222 CLAUDIA DAIN

“Quite,” Iveston echoed, straightening his cuff. The mist was

gone now as well, though the sky was still heavy with cloud, not

a star in sight, nor the moon either. As he didn’t respond more

fully to George, she had the time to take in the general weather

conditions, but as she did so, she did begin to suspect that Iveston

was stalling for time.

He was trying to think of some reasonable excuse!

Impossible, as there could be no reasonable excuse for drag

ging her outside to kiss her in the rain. To kiss her repeatedly and

heatedly in the rain. She might as well be precise about it. Though

being precise, the words and the images that flooded her upon

saying them even in her own thoughts, brought forth such a rush

of heat and longing and . . . no, some things were better off left

in vague and hazy terms. Particularly when facing one’s brother

with a savage Indian at his back.

Things were looking rather hopeless for Iveston. It was rather

funny, as long as she didn’t end up married to him.

As she very definitely did not want to lose Edenham, she

decided to help him. Iveston could be thrashed for some other

thing. She could wait for that, a short amount of time anyway.

“It’s quite simple, George,” she said. “I can’t even begin to

remember how it started, though I’m nearly certain it was a sci

entific inquiry, but Lord Iveston and I got into a mild debate

about . . . my hair.”

George Grey’s black eyebrows raised fractionally and he

crossed his arms over his chest. Her George lowered his black

eyebrows and took a step nearer to her. Clearly, more explana

tion was required. As Iveston was looking at her in some interest

and curiosity, she was going to have to invent an explanation.

Oh, dear.

“I assure you, nothing happened beyond us both getting a bit

damp and uncomfortable,” she said.

How to Daz zle a Duke

223

To judge by the looks in the eyes of the men, that had not

come out quite right.

“I think we should go back inside,” Iveston said, which was

most reasonable of him as it was not at all comfortable out of

doors now that her clothing was damp and her hair a ruin.

“I think explanations are due first,” George said, which did

not strike her as particularly chivalrous so much as particularly

inconvenient.

“I do think it is entirely possible to have explanations while

comfortably out of the mist!” she said, a bit loudly, it must be

admitted.

“Yet you did not think so with Lord Iveston,” George re

sponded, “or was it his idea, Pen? Did he force you out here?”

Iveston bristled; she could see that clearly even in the dark.

If George made one more inconvenient comment, she might well

see herself married to Iveston! It was not to be borne, not after

so much effort on her part to snag Edenham. George’s foolish

display of what she did not know was not going to ruin her mar

riage prospects.

“George, that’s completely ridiculous,” she snapped. “I told

you that we were engaging in a minor and utterly innocent con

versation about my hair. Lord Iveston remarked that he thought

that my hair, which put him in mind of a cousin of his or some

such, would not curl when damp. I wagered that he was wrong

and we set out to prove the point. Nothing more complicated

than that.”

“Why would you wager upon that?” George said suspi

ciously.

“Why do you wager on anything?” she snapped. “It was a

chance to make two pounds. I never turn aside from making

a simple profi t.”

“But why would
he
wager on it?”

224 CLAUDIA DAIN

She had no idea.

She didn’t know what to say to that and looked at Iveston,

who was watching her with a gleam in his eyes that sent a shiver

down her spine. She shivered. George took note of it and frowned.

George Grey, the Indian, smiled.

“Because, Mr. Prestwick,” Iveston said, “I never turn aside

from an opportunity to engage Miss Prestwick. She is endlessly

fascinating, as I suspect you must know.”

What a lovely thing to say. She almost believed he meant it.

George was silent for longer than he should have been. A sim

ple grunt of satisfaction would have been sufficient. They should

all now return to the soiree and make as little of this as possible,

not as much as possible. Couldn’t he see that?

Men, especially brothers, were so stupid about matters of de

corum and social necessity.

“Your hair curls when wet,” George Grey said softly, staring

at her. She didn’t like it in the least.

“Yes, I know, which is why I’ve won two pounds,” she said. “I

expect you to pay me promptly, Lord Iveston. I’m quite deter

mined to not be given short shrift just because I’m a woman.”

“I shall drop round tomorrow, shall I, and pay you your due,”

Iveston said, staring at her very much like the Indian was doing.

She didn’t mind it half as much.

“That explains, somewhat, what you are doing out, alone, in

Lady Lanreath’s back garden,” George said. He was like a dog

with a rat about the entire event, which was perfectly horrid of

him. Couldn’t he see he was making it all worse and worse with

every word he uttered? “But it does not explain the condition of

your dress, Pen. You look a proper disaster.”

She looked down. Her dress was in a muddle. As it was of

tissue-thin silk, it did show every mark of being handled. And it

looked most decidedly handled. She was particularly rumpled

around her waist, where Iveston had not resisted in the least the

How to Daz zle a Duke

225

impulse to grab her to him. A wet fluttering made itself felt be

hind her knees and elbows at the thought. With determination,

and her brother’s stare upon her, she ignored it as best she could.

She thought she did a good job of it, actually.

“Miss Prestwick had a bit of a shock and is still clearly suffer

ing the aftereffects of it,” Iveston said.

Well, perhaps she could have done a better job at her fl utter

ing. She wasn’t used to dealing with flutters, that was all.

“A shock? Of what type?” George asked.

If she were going to be questioned like a common criminal,

she did think someone might offer her a chair, and out of the

rain, at that.

“I saw a rat, if you must know,” she said crisply, looking at

George, her inspiration for the idea. “You know how I am about

rats, George. Well, I saw one running straight at my ankles and

without any forethought or hesitation, I must admit, I threw my

self into Lord Iveston’s arms. I even believe I screamed.”

“She most definitely screamed,” Iveston said. “Clamped her

knees around one of my thighs, wrapped her arms around my

neck, and screamed. And screamed. I’m surprised you did not

hear her.”

“I didn’t scream that much or that loudly, Lord Iveston,” she

said in some annoyance.

There was no need to make her look a complete fool. George

was her brother, after all, and would make good use of this story

for many years to come. Iveston, who had brothers of his own,

was clearly tormenting her, but for what cause? All she’d done

was kiss him with as much passion as she had in her to win a

wager. Was that anything to be annoyed about?

“My left ear is still ringing,” Iveston said with a pleasant smile

upon his face.

Who had ever determined that Lord Iveston was an innocent,

awkward man? He was deviousness itself.

226 CLAUDIA DAIN

“Naturally, I’m not complaining,” Iveston continued, looking

at George. “I understand irrational fears. I do have four younger

brothers, after all.”

“It’s not irrational,” she said hotly. “Rats bite. And this rat was

the size of a cat.”

“Perhaps it was a cat?” George said. “It is rather dark out

here.”

“It was a rat,” she gritted out.

Why couldn’t George leave well enough alone? Did he want

to see her ruined by Lord Iveston when it was Edenham who was

the one who was supposed to ruin her? Not that he knew that of

course. She loved George, usually, but she wasn’t such a fool as

to tell him she was planning to arrange for Edenham to ruin her.

George was a man, after all, and they tended to bristle at that

sort of arrangement.

Men were such romantics.

“Of course,” Iveston said in a perfectly patronizing tone.

“Still, I did feel that, as she was clinging to me, I should endeavor

to hold her up and so I, with great care, held her about the waist.

The wrinkles will attest to it, I trust. But all perfectly innocent,

Mr. Prestwick, though not very wise, I willingly admit.”

George Grey had said not a word for many minutes. He had

his arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders leaning against the

brick wall of the house, and was obviously amused. Oh, he was

silent, but he was laughing. She could feel it.

“I can’t think why you are here, Mr. Grey,” she said. The

rain had stopped completely, but she was most tired of having to

stand about, damp, required to explain every little thing. It was

bad enough to do it for George, but did this Indian have to be

involved?

“I have a sister, Miss Prestwick,” he said, as if that answered

anything at all.

How to Daz zle a Duke

227

“You do?” Iveston said, his attention off of her for the fi rst

time that evening. She did have to admit that she didn’t enjoy the

change in the slightest. Was Iveston now going to seek out Mr.

Grey’s sister to kiss? “Is she in Town?”

Apparently, he was. What a flighty man. She couldn’t think

how she’d ever thought him amusing. Of course, she hadn’t

thought a thing of him yesterday, but since meeting him today,

he was more . . . something or other than she had expected him

to be. Very much more.

“She is not even in the country, Lord Iveston,” Mr. Grey said.

“A child, then?” Iveston asked.

Well, really. He was suddenly more interested in this mysteri

ous Indian woman than he was in her. How very like a man. They

were so changeable as a rule. It was quite annoying of them.

“My twin,” Mr. Grey said, which she did have to admit, was

the slightest bit interesting.

“Really?” George said. Bother it all. Now he was fascinated

by this nameless Indian princess, for she had heard some small

rumor, which had captured her attention completely, that So

phia’s father, an Iroquois, was something quite like royalty within

that nation, which explained quite a lot about Sophia, now that

she thought about it. “Do you share a strong resemblance?”

“No,” Mr. Grey answered.

It must have been a relief to his sister as Mr. George Grey,

while attractive in a primitive sort of way, was positively savagelooking with quite a dangerous cast to his features. Not at all the