How to Dazzle a Duke (37 page)

He could also play the pianoforte and she wasn’t about to

marry him for his musical skills either.

Marriage? Why ever had marriage entered her mind when

cataloging Iveston’s scant list of skills? She nearly blushed in shame

at the wayward nature of her thoughts. A woman did not make

the most ideal marriage by becoming distracted by incidentals.

“You’re blushing,” Iveston said, standing up from the bench.

He was quite tall, nearly towering over her. She supposed she

should find it extremely unattractive, it was only that he looked so

very well, even with his cravat a tatter. He was a very handsome

man. There was little point in denying that. There was little rea

son to deny it either. So, he could kiss well and he was handsome.

What was that? Nothing to build a marriage upon.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I never blush. I never fi nd the

need.”

268 CLAUDIA DAIN

She sounded like a prig. She knew it. She couldn’t seem to

stop herself. The problem was that Lord Iveston didn’t seem to

mind.
All
the men minded. Why didn’t he?

“Can’t you feel it?” he said softly, taking a step nearer to her.

They were quite close enough. It was entirely unnecessary. He

did it anyway. “Can’t you feel the heat of it?”

“No.”

She wasn’t going to count the little lies. If she did, she would

be overwhelmed with counting in a half hour’s time.

“You never blush,” he said, looking at her mouth, “yet you are

blushing now, for me. I like that.”

“I don’t care what you like.”

“Did you know,” he said, ignoring her completely, still staring

at her mouth, “that your mouth goes quite rosy when you blush?

Nearly like a berry stain. It’s quite compelling. I do think you

should stop, if at all possible, or I shall be hard put to refrain from

kissing you again.”

It was a horrible truth to admit that she didn’t mind the idea

in the least.

Whatever was wrong with her? She needed to plant herself at

Edenham’s side immediately or Lord Iveston would distract her

past all reckoning. And that couldn’t happen, no, couldn’t be

allowed to happen. She had her plan and she was not going to be

waylaid by a few kisses of superior quality.

How did Edenham kiss, as long as she was thinking of it?

Certainly, after three wives, he must have developed some talent

for kissing. Pity that she couldn’t ask one of them how he . . .

performed. She did like to have all her facts in hand before mak

ing a decision. Of course, she could simply arrange to kiss him

herself. There was nothing like firsthand exposure. It was so

much more reliable than hearsay.

“I do hope Edenham likes the color of my lips,” she said. “Do

you think he will?”

How to Daz zle a Duke

269

Her words had the desired effect. Iveston pulled back from

her and considered her from beneath his pale brows.

“Let’s ask him, shall we?” Iveston said. And without another

word, he escorted her across the floor to where Edenham

stood with Sophia and Lady Richard.

Penelope braced herself. She was more than certain that this

was not going to be pleasant. If there weren’t already so many

wagers flying about the room, she would have wagered on it.

6

“WITH so many wagers placed on Miss Prestwick’s marital

prospects, I haven’t been able to get a man’s attention all eve

ning,” Bernadette, Lady Paignton, said. “I can’t even fi nd that

Indian, and I did think he’d be an interesting experience.”

“You have too many interesting experiences,” Antoinette,

Lady Lanreath, said. “It’s becoming something of a problem,

don’t you agree?”

“No, actually, I don’t,” Bernadette said.

“I should like it very much if you would change your

mind,” Antoinette said softly, looking out over her room full of

guests, at how perfect it all looked, and how empty it was of all

meaning. It wasn’t even her house anymore, having been passed

to her husband’s son. The moment he married she would likely

be thrown out on her bonnet. “I may want to marry again, and

it will be a bit difficult to arrange if you continue on as you are

doing.”

Bernadette turned her green eyes upon her sister, looking quite

obviously stunned. “I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had no idea myself,” Antoinette answered. “I think watch

ing Miss Prestwick has inspired me. This girl, nothing stops her,

does it? She is arranging her own match, on her own terms. Did

you or I do the same? We did not. We married where we were

told. She is barely younger than we are now, yet so much stronger

270 CLAUDIA DAIN

in resolve. Yes,” Antoinette said, lifting her chin, “she has most

assuredly inspired me.”

“To marriage,” Bernadette said skeptically.

“Yes, to marriage. I do not aspire to be any man’s whore,

Bernie. I should think that you would want more for yourself.

Certainly I want more for you.”

Bernadette smiled. It was a smile without joy and without

warmth.

“We want different things, Toni. However, I will do whatever

I must to aid you. I only want your happiness, nearly as much as

I want my own.” And then she smiled, a most genuine smile.

“Very well. For now. Don’t think I shan’t try to convince you

of my wisdom and brilliance upon this topic, however. I shall

return to it at some future date.”

“I shall look forward to it.”

“You are an appalling liar.”

“Yes, but I’m so good at everything else.”

And at that, both sisters laughed, causing Lady Richard to

look over at them, and frown.

6

“NOW, darling, don’t frown,” Sophia said. “Miss Prestwick will

think you don’t approve of her.”

“I’m nearly certain I don’t,” Katherine said, and then smiled.

“But as she may become my sister, I don’t wish to start off on the

wrong foot with her.”

“Oh, come now,” Edenham said, frowning at both women.

“I’m hardly likely to marry Miss Prestwick and you both

know it.”

“I certainly do not know any such thing,” Sophia said. “I’ve

wagered that you will. Don’t disappoint me, darling. Ah, Lord

Iveston, you’ve escorted the lamb to the wolves. How cordial

of you.”

How to Daz zle a Duke

271

Miss Prestwick, for perfectly obvious reasons, did not care for

the metaphor in the slightest, and who could expect her to? She

was a woman of resolve and action, yet still a lamb in the ways of

men, for all that. Although, as Iveston turned his head to greet

Lady Richard, it became clear that the lamb had sharp teeth: Lord

Iveston had a love bite on his neck, and quite a nice one, too.

Darling Penelope grew more interesting by the hour. It was

to be expected that Iveston had come to the same conclusion.

Would Edenham? That was the question, and an entertaining

one it was.

“What a lovely concert,” Sophia continued, studying Penel

ope and Iveston. “Such harmony and what can only be assumed

a natural fluidity of timing and instinctive musicality. No one can

believe that you have not been practicing together, in seclusion,

for weeks.”

“As I’ve only just met Lord Iveston, that would have been

impossible,” Penelope said.

“Which is precisely what I’ve been saying, darling, but of

course, no one will believe me,” Sophia said. “I do think you

should lend your voice to the choir, as it were, Lord Iveston. You

are certain to be trusted far more than I.”

“And I?” Penelope said, her gaze quite as blunt as a hammer.

“I am not to be trusted?”

As there was another woman at the pianoforte, both singing

and playing, and as she was sharp one note out of every three, it

did not look at all hopeful that anyone was prepared to believe

that Penelope and Iveston had come together so beautifully as a

result of mere chance. But Sophia was not going to be the one to

say that to her. No, there was a better source entirely.

“Certainly the duke has expressed doubts,” Sophia said, casu

ally fanning her face.

Miss Prestwick gave Sophia a look she clearly hoped would

wilt her—it didn’t—and then turned to face Edenham. To her

272 CLAUDIA DAIN

credit, she faced him squarely. To his credit, he gave every ap

pearance of gentleness.

To Iveston’s credit, he did not hold his tongue, but stepped in

and settled the issue instantly. Or tried to, poor darling.

“We’ve just met,” Iveston said. “Last week, in fact. I was under

the impression that you met Miss Prestwick the same night that

I did, at a ball in her home.”

“I did,” Edenham said, “though I do think that, between then

and now, you have become better acquainted with her than I

have done.”

“I daresay that’s true,” Iveston said, nodding pleasantly. “As I

understand it, Edenham, there is a wager on White’s book, the odds

quite heavily in your favor, that you will marry Miss Prestwick.”

“So I’ve been told,” Edenham said calmly.

Penelope was scarcely breathing. Katherine was clearly un

comfortable at the boldness of the conversation. Sophia could not

have been more delighted than if she’d written the script herself,

and she nearly had.

“You may be unaware of it,” Iveston continued, moving so

that he stood nearer to Edenham and almost directly facing Pe

nelope, “but I placed a wager of my own, that I would marry

Miss Prestwick.”

“Having known her for less than a week?” Edenham asked.

“Quite right,” Iveston said, smiling. “Ridiculous bit of non

sense, isn’t it? I did it to win a bet, of course, an entirely different

wager with Cranleigh, and of course, I have won it.”

“What?” Penelope said sharply. “A wager? You . . . it was

nothing but a wager?”

Iveston turned the full force of his blue gaze upon Penelope.

She gasped on a whispered intake of breath. Katherine mur

mured some unintelligible bit of comfort. Sophia smiled behind

her fan. Penelope needed no comfort; she was the sort who came

out fighting, which truly was so clever of her.

How to Daz zle a Duke

273

“The first wager, Miss Prestwick, which I am quite certain

you can have known nothing of. I shan’t be so crass as to discuss

the particulars with you, but I have won it many times over.”

Penelope did not fire up in her anger and outrage, no, nothing

so pedestrian as that. She looked quite icily calm and held herself

as still as a marble statue.

“You shan’t be crass enough to discuss it, yet you show no

hesitation to perform in calculated fashion to win this mysterious

wager? How perfectly like a man you are, how hopelessly illogi

cal in your thoughts and actions.”

“Thank you,” he said, bowing crisply in her direction. “I am

pleased that you have, finally, noticed that I am a man and will

ever behave as one, Miss Prestwick.”

It was as if a cold wind blew through the room at that ex

change of observations, a wind that began at the epicenter of

Penelope and Iveston and rushed out to encompass the room.

Sophia was certain she was not imagining that the drawing

room grew quite quiet, the girl at the pianoforte sounding louder

and more discordant as a result. Poor girl. But then, she couldn’t

help them all, could she?

“The wager on White’s book, what of that?” Edenham asked

into the awkward silence.

“Oh, yes, you must explain about that,” Sophia said. “It’s the

key to the whole thing, isn’t it, Miss Prestwick?”

“No, I—” Penelope began. She looked nearly flushed. It quite

agreed with her.

“Miss Prestwick,” Iveston said, cutting her off, his glance to

her as slicing as his tone, “asked me to place a wager on the book

that she and I would marry. Her idea was that it would intrigue

you enough to want to pursue an alliance with her. My idea was

that it could only aid me in my wager with Cranleigh.”

“An odd way of getting a man’s attention,” Edenham said.

“Yet did it not work?” Penelope asked a trifle angrily. Not

274 CLAUDIA DAIN

very wise of her to be angry now, but that was part of the charm

of youth. How else to explain it?

“Yes, I confess that it did,” Edenham said. “But the wager that

she and I would marry? Who is responsible for that?”

And here is where Miss Penelope Prestwick lived up to every

one of Sophia’s expectations of her.

Lifting her delightful little chin and staring both men in the

face from her very diminutive position, she said clearly, “I am.

I am responsible for both wagers.”

“I do hope you can afford to lose your wagers, Miss Prest

wick, for you have lost them both,” Iveston said calmly. And with

that, he walked away from her.

She followed him with her eyes until he was lost from view.

“Were you prepared to lose, Miss Prestwick?” Sophia asked.

She turned back to face them, looking fully at Sophia, ignor

ing Edenham and Lady Richard entirely. That told the entire tale

most explicitly.

“No, I don’t believe I was,” Penelope said in a hushed voice.