LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Turned you down?”

      Devin chuckled. “Well, it soothes my wounded feelings somewhat to see you look so shocked at the notion. I am sure our esteemed mother will tell me that it serves me right.”

      “Well, it probably does,” Rachel admitted. “But, oh, this is so disappointing. I had really hoped…”

      “Don’t give up hope, my love. I have a plan.”

      “A plan?” The look Rachel turned on him was tinged with suspicion. “What do you mean? A plan for what?”

      “For turning the tables on our Miss Moneybags,” Devin replied lightly. “I intend to woo the chit. Get her to take back her refusal.”

      Rachel frowned. “But why? I thought you didn’t want to marry her anyway? I would have thought you would be glad she turned you down.”

      “Glad to have an American nobody tell me I was not good enough for her?” Devin asked coolly. “I think not, dear sister. I am happy not to shackle myself to her, but that doesn’t mean I was pleased to be rejected.”

      Rachel’s frown deepened. “Devin…”

      “What?” He looked at her with great innocence. “I thought you would be happy for me to make a push to fix her interest.”

      “I would be if I thought you were serious. But it sounds as if it is a game for you, and it seems a cruel game.”

      “Don’t worry about the American. Just think of all that lovely money waiting for us to snatch it up.”

      “Devin! You make us sound so…”

      “So what? Mercenary? Well, aren’t we? Haven’t we always been aimed in the direction of money? Was it not the prime objective of your marriage? And Caroline’s? Haven’t I always been the slackard who would not do his family duty of wedding an heiress? The Aincourt coffers, after all, are a bottomless pit.”

      “I hate it when you talk that way,” Rachel said, her face saddening. “Caroline and Richard loved each other. He has been heartbroken ever since her death, and you know it.”

      “I know.” His face softened a trifle. “And I am a wretch to remind you of your own sacrifice. Especially when I have always been too selfish to match it.”

      “I don’t want you to sacrifice your life, Dev. I want your happiness. That is all that I care about.”

      “Well, it will make me happy to win over your Miss Upshaw. And that is why I want you to have a party and invite her to it.”

      “Have a party?”

      “Yes. A party which I shall attend—and where I will endeavor to repair the damage I have done to Miss Upshaw’s opinion of me.”

      Rachel gave her brother a long, considering look. The hard light in his eyes frightened her a little, and she wondered if she would be doing the American girl a serious disservice by helping Devin try to charm her into accepting him. But then she thought about Miss Upshaw and their conversation of the night before, and it occurred to her that Miranda Upshaw was capable of holding her own with anyone, including Devin.

      “All right,” she said finally. “I shall throw a ball for Miss Upshaw. She can scarcely refuse to attend a party designed to introduce her to the Ton.”

      “Thank you, dear sister.” Devin threw her a playful bow. “I am eternally in your debt.”

      “I shall hold you to that promise,” Rachel retorted in the same vein, then added, more thoughtfully, “It will be interesting to see which one of you wins out.” Perhaps, with any luck, they both would.

      5

      Miranda turned first this way, then that, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Behind her sat her stepsister and stepmother, observing her. Her father paced impatiently up and down the hallway, sticking his head in from time to time to see how things were progressing.

      “You’re beautiful,” Veronica said, gazing up at her with stars in her eyes.

      “She’s right,” Elizabeth agreed. “That seafoam green sets off your hair perfectly. I am so glad we decided to get it.”

      “I am, too,” Miranda admitted. The dress was lovely. Made of layer upon layer of the palest green gauze, scalloped around the hem, it did indeed look as if she were rising from a layer of sea-foam. Tied by a wide silver ribbon beneath the bust, it accentuated the firm thrust of her breasts, and the low, round neckline showed off their creamy tops to advantage. Around her shoulders she wore a wrap of silver, so thin as to be almost nonexistent. Her chestnut hair was swept up and artfully arranged in a cascade of falling curls, through which a matching silver ribbon was twined. She did, she thought with a satisfied smile, look her best. Lord Ravenscar would not find her plain or dowdy tonight.

      That, she knew, was the main reason why she had decided to attend Lady Westhampton’s ball tonight. When she had first received the invitation, she had told her father flatly that she would not go.

      “It is only a ploy to force me to meet Lord Ravenscar again, and nothing could impel me to do that,” she had said, ignoring Joseph’s pleading expression.

      “Now, we don’t know that.”

      “Why else would Lady Westhampton have invited us? Obviously she loves her brother dearly, despite the fact that the man is a pig. She must hope that he will be able to persuade me the second time around. Or perhaps she thinks that she can dazzle me with a taste of the glittering life of London society, hoping I will marry him just to be able to attend such parties.”

      “I am sure that wasn’t the reason. She likes you. Didn’t you tell me that you liked her?”

      “Yes. But not enough to marry her odious brother.”

      “Now, Miranda, my love, was he really that bad?” Joseph had asked in a wheedling tone.

      “He was the rudest, most arrogant man I have ever had the misfortune to talk to. Why, he barely even glanced at me the whole time he was talking. It was quite clear that he considered me far beneath him and was offering only because he was desperate. If I had to live with a man like that, one or the other of us would be dead within a month, I am sure.”

      “Perhaps he was nervous,” Joseph suggested. “Asking for a woman’s hand will do that to a man.”

      “I have never met a man less nervous.”

      Miranda had not told her father about the way Lord Ravenscar had jerked her to him and kissed her forcefully. She was not exactly sure why. She knew that such a revelation would end her father’s questions and pleadings immediately. However, she had found herself reluctant to tell him about it. It was embarrassing; she could scarcely even think about the incident without blushing. Also, she was not sure exactly how her father would react. He was not a man with an excessive temper, but an insult like that to his daughter was something that could make him fly into a rage, and if he did, she was fairly sure he might do something rash like march over to the Earl’s house and lay into him with his fists. While that was something that the man richly deserved, she suspected, having seen the Earl in action the other night, that her father would be the one who came out the worse for the fisticuffs, and she certainly did not want him to get hurt.

      But Miranda knew that there was something more than these things that had kept her from revealing Ravenscar’s scandalous behavior. She was not sure of the reason; she knew only that she wanted to keep the information to herself. His kiss had left her confused and uncertain, a condition to which she was not accustomed, and she was reluctant to let anyone see that.

      She thoroughly disliked the man, just as she had told her father, and she felt certain that even a few minutes in his company would make her furious again. What did she not reveal, however, was that she could not stop thinking about his kiss, and there was something inside her that wanted with equal intensity to experience it again. She did not want to tell Joseph,

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