The Seduction (9 page)

Trevor smiled at the memory. "Geoffrey never did have a sense of humor."

"Yes, well, it was a good thing old
Walston
didn't believe his accusation that we were responsible."

"He couldn't prove anything, so of course the headmaster didn't believe him."

"And you had already arranged a suitable alibi for
us, as I recall. You are too clever by half." He sighed pleasurably. "Those were halcyon days indeed."

Trevor lifted his glass. "Who says they are over? I'm sure we could think up some wild escapades to get into while I'm here."

But Edward shook his head. "No, no. Those days are over for me."

"You've been married less than a year. Has it changed you so much?"

"I doubt Cornelia would look favorably upon any escapades you and I would be likely to engage in. The Egyptian artifacts business is bad enough, but coming home drunk at four o'clock in the morning would displease Cornelia immensely." He took a swallow of brandy and added, "And I can tell you it is never wise to incur your wife's displeasure."

"True enough. You might be deprived of matrimony's only benefit."

The cynicism of that comment startled Edward. "That isn't it at all," he protested. "You know that if I wanted other feminine companionship I could easily find it. But I don't want it."

"And you never look at another woman," Trevor answered with gravity, but there was a hint of mockery in his voice.

Edward refused to be perturbed by it. "Of course I look," he said, laughing. "But that is all. My wife is the only woman I truly want."

"Really, Edward! You talk as if you're actually in love with your own wife."

"I am."

Trevor studied his friend's face and knew he was in earnest. He felt a stab of pity for him. "What a wretched state of affairs. It's a situation in which you can never win."

"Marriage is not a game to be won or lost, Trevor. There will always be vexation and grief, of course, but marriage can also make a man quite happy." He shook his head sadly. "You've always had the worst possible opinion of marriage. I cannot help but wonder why."

"Is there any reason why I should have a good opinion of it?" he countered in a hard voice. "Among our mutual acquaintance, I can think of no one who would recommend the married state as a way to make one happy."

"I can recommend it highly. It has given me much joy."

Trevor could have pointed out that Edward had been married so short a time that the novelty had not yet worn off. But he merely shrugged. "If you say so."

"God, Trevor, you needn't sound as if marriage is a fate worse than death. It isn't, you know. You must marry, and you may find it surprisingly pleasant. Believe me when I say it could make a different man of you."

"Why should I wish to be a different man? I am quite content being the man that I am, and I see no reason why I should want to change." He took a swallow of brandy and added, "It is true that duty will eventually force me to marry, but it will not change either my lifestyle or my temperament, I assure you. And it will certainly not make me any less of a realist."

Edward started to speak, obviously intending to debate the point, but Henry and his secretary entered the room at that moment, and he let the subject drop. Trevor was heartily glad of it, for he thought the idea of being transformed by love was unworthy of discussion between intelligent and rational men.

*
    
*
    
*

"You two have successfully divided the spoils of the evening between you," Alistair said with admiration as he looked from Trevor to Henry. It was quite late, and both men had been playing poker with Alistair and Edward most of the evening. Trevor had six hundred pounds more than he'd started with. It was unfortunate that poker could not be counted on as a means of earning a living.

"Too bad Hymes wasn't here," Henry said with a chuckle. "Trevor and I would have made even more. Nice enough fellow, excellent at whist, quite good at baccarat. But can't play poker worth a damn."

The mention of the name caught Trevor's attention. "Hymes?"

"Lord Hymes," Edward explained. "Viscount with estates in Durham. You may know him."

Trevor thought of the viscount on his knees the night before, making an utter ass of himself, and he smiled. In a manner of speaking, he supposed he did know Hymes. But he admitted nothing.

"What happened to the fellow anyway?" Edward asked. "I came down this morning and Giuseppe told me he'd ordered a carriage brought round and left at sunrise without a word to anyone. Not even a note."

"Really?" Trevor lit a cigar and blew three smoke rings toward the ceiling in rapid succession. His smile widened. "Awfully rude of him, I'd say."

Henry shrugged. "Well, I can't say I blame him. I understand from my niece that he proposed marriage to my daughter last night and she refused him. Only fitting he should leave, I suppose. Damned awkward if he didn't."

Trevor wondered if Margaret had told Lady Kettering about his role in the events of last night. He rather doubted it.

Edward yawned, then shoved back his chair and stood up. "I think it's time to find my pillow."

"Are you sure?" Trevor asked. "The ladies have returned from their dinner party, remember. Cornelia's bound to be awake, waiting for you so that she can ask how you did and lecture you about how much you've lost."

Edward was a good loser. He grinned. "We haven't been married long enough for that yet," he answered. "If she's waiting up for me, it has nothing to do with poker."

The other men laughed as Edward picked up his glass and downed the last swallow of brandy. He turned to Trevor. "I'm glad you'll be staying a few more days. We still have much to catch up on."

Trevor glanced at Henry, then said, "I don't know how long I'll be staying, but we'll find time before I go."

"Excellent. Good night, gentlemen." Edward set his glass down on the table and left the room.

Henry's secretary also rose to his feet. "It's quite late. I think I'll turn in as well." He left, closing the door behind him and leaving the other two men in private.

Henry stood up and walked to the liquor cabinet, then uncorked a new bottle of brandy and brought it to the table. After refilling Trevor's glass and his own, he sat down, lit a cigar, and wondered how best to proceed. He'd learned long ago to trust his gut feelings, and from what he'd seen, he felt certain Ashton was the right man for Margaret. Charm would be needed to win her, as well as a persuasive tongue, audacity and quick wits. Ashton possessed all those qualities. He was also titled, and that counted for a great deal. In addition, Henry liked him. Yes. Ashton would do very well.

He leaned forward in his chair. "Lord Ashton, I'm an uncomplicated man. I've made my money by being willing to take risks, by seizing opportunities, and by being a good judge of men. I need a man to take on a rather unusual and very challenging task for me. The moment we met, I realized you might fit the bill."

Trevor swirled the brandy in his glass. "You've made me quite curious."

Henry glanced at the door to make certain it was closed and no one could overhear. "What I have in mind would be an ideal solution to your current situation. It would provide you with plenty of money to salvage your estates, and there would be enough left over for you to live in luxury for the rest of your life. Interested?"

"Who wouldn't be?" Trevor frowned thoughtfully. "Who do I have to kill?"

Henry threw back his head and laughed. "Think it's too good to be true, eh?"

"Let's just say I'm skeptical. Exactly what did you have in mind?"

"It's quite simple." Henry took a long pull on his cigar and blew the smoke out slowly. "I want you to marry my daughter."

"What?" Trevor straightened
in his chair, uncertain he had heard correctly.

"I want you to marry my daughter."

"You must be joking."

"On the contrary," Henry replied, smiling. "I'm quite serious."

He was. Beneath that smile, the other man was very much in earnest. Trevor couldn't quite believe that a solution to his problem was being presented to him on a silver platter. Life wasn't that easy. Nonetheless, he stubbed out his cigar and leaned forward, deeming the idea worthy of his full attention, even if it was a colossal joke. "You hardly know me."

"True." Henry took a puff on his cigar. "But, as I said, I'm a good judge of men. And I think you might be the right man for my daughter."

No father had ever expressed that opinion about Trevor before, and he was astonished. "Why?"

"You're titled, for one thing. That's important." Henry swirled the brandy in his glass and took a swallow. "My background isn't quite so illustrious. My parents emigrated to America from Holland. My father-in-law was a chocolate maker, and I built his little candy shop into a million-dollar business, which I have expanded to include many other ventures. It's made me a very wealthy man." His face hardened slightly. "But all the money in the world doesn't matter when you have no background. I want my daughter to have respectability. I want all the best life has to offer for her and her children. If you aren't born with a pedigree, you have to marry one."

"I see. That's where I come in."

"Exactly."

"But why me? I mean, there must be plenty of titled men who would be willing to marry Margaret." He thought of the ridiculous Lord Hymes. "She probably has them standing in line."

"Oh, yes. That is not the problem." Henry gave a sigh of long suffering. "But Margaret does not want to marry any of them. She's a stubborn young woman, and she has some very silly ideas about marriage. Many suitors have offered for her, but she has refused them all."

"And you think I'm the man who can change her mind?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I was at breakfast the morning after you arrived, Lord Ashton. I haven't seen my daughter blush since she was thirteen years old."

Trevor could have told the other man that it wasn't attraction to him that made her blush like that, but he refrained. This might be his golden opportunity, and
he had no intention of ruining it. But he also wanted to know exactly what he was getting into. "Why has your daughter refused so many proposals? What exactly are her silly ideas about marriage?"

"She is determined to marry only for love. Practical considerations mean nothing to her."

"There are women like that," Trevor answered dryly, "although I must confess, I've met very few. It's inconvenient for their families, perhaps, but there it is."

"It's a ridiculous notion. She's turned down one suitor after another, and it won't be long before she'll be on the shelf. She's twenty-four already, well past marriageable age. She is waiting, she says, for a man who truly loves her. I've told her repeatedly that a woman in her position doesn't marry for love, but she won't listen to me. If she falls in love with someone inappropriate, it could be disastrous. She'd elope with a
stableboy
if she fell in love with him. I can't let that happen."