His Perfect Game (3 page)

“You consider anything before two in the afternoon to be an ‘ungodly hour,’ so I’m hardly inclined to conform to your idea of the time,” Greyson replied dryly.

Jonathan shrugged before dropping himself down in the seat across from his friend. “So, what is new to report this week?”

“I had to release two more employees.”

“Theft again?”

“It’s becoming a trend. That makes ten over the past two months,” Greyson informed him, leaning further back in his seat. He crossed his ankles and rested his hands on his stomach wanting the outward sign of ease to dispel any concern Jonathan experienced. Considering the responsibility of the club primarily rested with him, Greyson refused to allow anyone to believe he wasn’t up to the task.

“Nathaniel can do nothing to prevent it?”

“His other duties require too much of his time. So, I have directed him to assign Algers to flush out the thieves. He has not yet discovered who is behind bribing the employees into theft, but I have confidence in him.”

“We have encountered more troubles in the past few years than in the entire life of the club. That, as well as these bothersome meetings, is taking a toll on my more pleasurable activities.”

Judging by the satisfied grin on Jonathan’s face, Greyson had trouble believing the accusation. In all the years they had known each other, Jonathan had never found anything worthy of sacrificing his pursuit of the fairer sex.

“I believe our recent issues are in direct relation to our increase in membership.”

“Perhaps. Now enough of this depressing talk. Anything else to report? And this time make it something more pleasant,” Jonathan demanded, putting his brandy glass to his lips.

“I’m betrothed.”

Jonathan choked on the drink as he struggled to sit up in his chair. Although amused by his friend’s shock, Greyson’s expressionless face didn’t change.

“Surely you jest. I wasn’t even aware you had chosen a lady to court.”

“I selected her quite some time ago. However it took me a while to . . . work up enough courage to ask her.” Greyson hoped the excuse would suffice.

He could not explain all the planning and maneuvering it had taken to lead the duke to that game. Nor could he say how many times he’d suffered through matches, praying the man would stay in or wager enough. The past year had been tiresome, but now that everything began to fall into place, he could not regret a single moment.

“So, who is this fire maiden who endeavored to melt your icy heart?”

“Lady Willimena Everett, daughter of the Duke of Donetic. I chose her using factors much greater than silly notions of the heart, so don’t spread your drivel here.”

“Is she as moved by this union as you?” Jonathan asked, raising his left eyebrow as he settled back in his chair.

Greyson closed his eyes and tapped his thumb against the arm of his chair, reminding himself it didn’t matter what his friend thought. “She is overjoyed.”

Jonathan’s laughter exploded in the quiet room, no doubt in response to his dry tone.

His betrothed may not be delighted at the idea of eternity with him, but she had little choice. However, if she managed to conduct herself with the dignity and grace befitting a duke’s daughter, he could make this more bearable for her. He wasn’t an evil man and required little from his wife. She had nothing to fear from him.

Greyson allowed the satisfaction of his decision to run through him. Now he only needed to come to an agreement with Lady Willimena. The feat would be easy. From what he’d heard, she was an agreeable sort.

Chapter 2

“I will not do it.” Abigail clutched the fabric of her dress as if doing so would dispel the thought from her cousin’s mind.

“Don’t get upset with me. I’m merely telling you what you asked,” Julia stated, holding her hands up, palms out.

“I asked how to entice a man, not seduce him.”

“Yes, and removing clothing is very enticing. I remember when Winston and I were—”

“Stop. I don’t need details.”

Julia laughed, but Abigail ignored her and crossed the space to open the window. The room had suddenly grown much too warm.

Her cousin’s arrival had been fortuitous considering how badly she needed advice from an experienced woman. Now, sitting in her bedchamber and hearing tips on seduction made her change her mind. Surely an easier way of enticing a man existed, that is, one that didn’t require her to act wanton.

“If you don’t wish to have any fun, then I suppose touching evokes an effect as well.”

“In what way? I have been on the arm of a number of gentlemen, and they never appeared to experience a fondness for me due to the contact.”

“Perhaps you are right. Hmm, how to entice a man without going overboard?” Julia tapped one finger against her cheek then suddenly sat forward, her eyes alight. “I have the solution. You can kiss him.”

“That is almost as bad as taking my clothes off.” Shutting her eyes, Abigail took a deep breath. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t worry. Whatever you decide will be fine. I’m still not sure why you need to do this. Didn’t you say you are betrothed?”

“Yes, but I’m concerned he will change his mind.” Abigail turned and looked out the window, hoping her cousin didn’t notice the blush coloring her cheeks from the falsehood.

She had not told her cousin the whole story, only that her father arranged a betrothal, and she wanted to entice her intended, the truth being much too embarrassing to admit. In addition, Julia had the benefit of not only having a good father, but her husband didn’t see fit to beat her either, so she would never understand. Abigail imagined the odds of finding two decent men were very low. Her cousin’s luck was unquestionable. Regardless, Julia’s good fortune didn’t change her own dire situation.

Just this morning, Abigail’s mother discovered Lord Merrick had been invited to dine with them this evening at Lord and Lady Burford’s. The invitation received acceptance prior to the viscount meeting her, so she had no guarantee he would still be agreeable. However, in the event he attended, she would do anything in her power to obey her father’s demand.

As she prepared herself for dinner, her nerves were wound so tight, she could hardly sit still as Mary applied the powder to her hair. Her thoughts alternated between fearing the viscount would come and worrying he would not. Either way, she had no idea how her father would react.

A knock at the door startled her, causing her to jump up and stumble into Mary. Looking back, Abigail saw black powder streaking down the front of Mary’s dress.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry.” Abigail pointlessly tried to wipe at the black but only managed to smear it further, while dirtying her gloves.

“Don’t worry with it, my lady. Your gloves are now soiled. Quick, pull them off.”

The women worked to fix the gloves as another knock sounded. Not wishing for Mary to suffer punishment for her dress, Abigail left her maid to clean up as she answered the door. Mrs. Garland, the housekeeper, waited for her.

“Yes?” Abigail opened the door a crack.

“You must come down quickly, my lady. Lord Merrick is here, and he wishes to speak to you. He is in the drawing room with your father now.”

“Thank you. I’ll be down at once.”

Abigail slowly closed the door as dread settled around her, closing her throat. On one hand, she felt relief to be saved from her father’s anger had Lord Merrick not returned. However, now she would be forced to play the part of a wanton. Drawing her shoulders back, she pulled on a new pair of gloves and walked out the door.

“Ah, Willimena. Finally,” her father greeted her as the gentlemen stood.

One glance at her father’s face assured her she would have nothing to fear from him for the time being. He’d adopted the façade he presented to Society that they would believe him to be an admirable man. Her temporary relief vanished as her eyes settled on her betrothed. If he’d earned her father’s high opinion, he wasn’t a man she could trust.

“Good evening, Lady Willimena.” Lord Merrick greeted her in a deep voice.

“I trust you remember your betrothed?” Her father nodded to the viscount.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Abigail took a seat on a chair close to Lord Merrick. As the men sat, she clasped her hands in front of her in an effort to prevent herself from fidgeting.

“Lord Merrick will be joining us for dinner at Lord Burford’s tonight. It would be good for the two of you to be seen together before any announcements are made.”

“I agree.” Lord Merrick’s intense gaze found her, robbing her of breath and making her feel as though he could see into her soul.

When his eyes moved away, she was able to inhale slowly. The uncomfortable silence that followed only served to further her uneasiness over this meeting. If they could not manage to hold a conversation now, she could imagine how tedious their married life would be.

“If you will excuse me, I’ll give you a moment to become better acquainted,” her father declared, standing.

After one long look at Abigail, he left the room, shutting the door behind him. Catching herself before her mouth fell open, she stared at the door in shock. Clearly her father intended for her to use this time to entice the unknown gentleman sitting calmly in his chair.

Turning to him, she saw he, too, remained preoccupied with the door, but his face didn’t betray his surprise by their unexpected privacy. However, when he faced her, his eyes didn’t meet hers, indicating he wasn’t as comfortable as he wanted her to believe.

“The weather is quite gloomy,” Lord Merrick commented.

Abigail nodded. His generic observation would have been humorous had she not been so nervous about what she had to do. “This situation is unorthodox, is it not?”

“Yes.” His eyes met hers and captured her attention.

Never in her life had someone been so focused on her. She was seen by many, but noticed by none. His awareness of her brought out a longing she thought she’d left in the past. She wanted to be her own person, someone worthy of being noticed, not an ornament her father brought out and displayed.

Her indecision fled with her nerves. Powered by her newfound desire, she stood and watched as he did so as well. As she took the three short steps toward him, he kept his emotionless expression fixed upon her. Before she lost her boldness, she placed her hands on his chest and pressed her lips against his.

The kiss only lasted a second before he reeled back, but Abigail could still feel the warmth of his mouth. The experience proved more pleasant than she expected. Her eyes fell to his soft lips, and she realized she wanted to kiss him again.

“What are you doing?”

“T-trying to entice y-you,” she stuttered. Her gaze moved away from his mouth, but her thoughts had not.

He narrowed his eyes. “For what purpose?”

As the pleasant feeling wore away, Abigail felt heat burning her cheeks. Her attempt obviously failed. She wondered how much damage her poor efforts caused. Would her father punish her for this failure or make her try again?

At that moment, the door opened, saving her from responding. Her father and mother filed into the room. Her father had a smirk on his face, no doubt in response to her close proximity to Lord Merrick. Her mother, however, didn’t even lift her eyes to see them. Abigail quickly crossed the room to take her place behind her mother.

“Are you ready to go?” her father inquired of Lord Merrick.

He nodded, but Abigail felt his hesitation. His rigid body and fisted hands told her more than his straight face. Was his reluctance because he didn’t have his question answered, or did it have something to do with Lord Burford’s dinner party?

Lord Merrick puzzled her, and she had no intention of allowing the wedding to approach without knowing what she should expect first. If she could discover his secrets then perhaps she had a chance of a happy future. She could not end up like her mother.

Greyson discretely glanced down at his pocket watch before sliding it back inside his waistcoat. Miss Doutree had been inflicting her rendition of ballads on the pianoforte upon them for almost ten minutes. Her mother proudly watched and applauded as her daughter defiled the music with her inept hands.

Irritated, Greyson once again ran his gaze over the gathered people and stopped, seeing Lady Willimena’s eyes upon him. She immediately turned away. To his surprise, it wasn’t the first time this evening he caught her studying him. Each time he detected a glimpse of intensity in her eyes hinting at a feeling stronger than curiosity.

His betrothed wasn’t what he expected. Her earlier attempt at enticing him told him quite a bit about the duke, but nothing of her. Seeing His Grace’s smug face had proved he’d been the one to put his daughter up to throwing herself at him.

Greyson silently applauded the man. If he had been the type who would take advantage of an innocent, the duke would have insurance should Greyson change his mind about the bargain.

All his thoughts centered back on Lady Willimena. Although he understood the duke’s motivations, why would his daughter agree to the plan? Judging by her innocent closed-mouth kiss, she wasn’t accustomed to male attention.

Peering back at her, he appraised her appearance. Her hair, a dull shade of black, was pulled back so tightly in a chignon that did nothing to accentuate any positive qualities. The dress was dull as well and hung shapelessly from her body, presenting her very round figure.

Moving his examination to her profile, Greyson paused on the first positive attribute she possessed: her mouth. Those plump red lips had been pressed up against his only hours ago. At the time, he had been too shocked to appreciate their fullness, but now he corrected his mistake through memory. He wondered how it would feel to be the first one to give her a real kiss.

His body reacted to his thoughts, so he tore his eyes from her mouth. His gaze landed on her hideous glasses. Why would anyone agree to wear such an unfashionable pair when other choices were available that could offer a better fit?

When the final key on the pianoforte resounded in the room, Greyson gratefully stood with the rest of the crowd as they offered praise to Miss Doutree. Similar to dinner, several of the guests looked over to him with either confusion or contempt, but the duke, true to his word, stood by him.