James’ right connected solidly with Anthony’s midsection just before he said, “You do.”
While Anthony doubled over, absorbing the punch as well as the answer, the wagers began flying about the room. At last there was someone who looked as if he just might be able to beat the unbeatable Lord Malory. Malory was taller by a few inches, but the other bloke was brawnier, and looked quite capable of wiping the floor with anyone in the room, Malory included. And they were going to be privileged to see it. Only a few there realized these two were brothers.
As soon as Anthony was able to draw breath, he scowled at James for the surprise punch, but as to his revelation, he simply said, “Me? How’d I get so lucky?”
“You’re the lad’s choice. You’re his bloody idol, don’t you know—next to me, of course.”
“Of course,” Anthony replied and took James equally by surprise with an uppercut that staggered James back several paces. As James flexed his jaw, Anthony added, “I’ll be glad to have him, as long as you realize I won’t curtail my activities as I did for Reggie.”
They circled each other now, both getting in another punch before James replied, “Don’t expect youto, lad, when I didn’t. It’s different when you’ve got a boy underfoot. Hell and fire, he’s been wenching since he was fourteen.”
Anthony burst into laughter at that, unfortunately letting down his guard to receive a ringing blow to the side of his head. But he was quick enough to counteract with an upper to James’ middle that lifted him a good five inches off the floor, amazingly done, since James was a good thirty pounds heavier in solid muscle.
Anthony stood back, allowing his brother a moment to catch his breath. When James glanced up, still bent over, he was grinning.
“Do we really want to take aches and pains to bed tonight, Tony?”
Anthony’s teeth flashed in accordance. “Not when something softer can be found, and I assure you, something softer can be found.” He came forward to throw an arm around his brother’s shoulder.
“Then you’ll take the lad until school starts?”
“Love to, but good God, I can see I’ll get a fair amount of ribbing from it. Anyone who looks at Jeremy will think he’s mine.”
“That’s why he wants you.” James grinned, flashing his own set of pearly whites. “He’s got a devilish sense of humor. Now about tonight. I know a couple of wenches—”
“Wenches, indeed. You were a pirate too long, Captain Hawke. Now I know a couple of ladies”
Chapter Three
“But I don’t understand, Ros,” Lady Frances leaned forward to say. “Why would you want to tie yourself to a man when you don’t have to? I mean, if you were already in love, that’d be different. But you’re talking about marrying someone you haven’t even met yet.”
“Frances, if I hadn’t promised, do you really think I’d do it?” Roslynn asked.
“Well, I should certainly hope not—but who’s to know if you don’t keep the promise? I mean, your grandfather’s dead and—” Frances broke off at the look on her friend’s face. “Forget I said that.”
“I will.”
“Oh, I just think it’s such a shame!” Frances sighed with emphasis.
Lady Frances Grenfell was a striking woman by any standards. On the tiny side, she was not exactly beautiful but was, however, very handsome with her blond hair and dark brown eyes. At one time she had been the most cheerful, effervescent girl Roslynn had ever known, but that was before her disappointing marriage to Henry Grenfell seven years ago. Now she was demure, matronly even, yet she did still have her moments that could remind Roslynn of the happy girl she had once been.
“You’re as independent now as anyone could ever ask to be,” Frances continued determinedly. “With more money than you know what to do with, and not a soul to tell you what to do. It took me seven years and living with a man I didn’t love for five of themto get to where you are now, and still I have a mother who nags if she hears of me doing the slightest thing she doesn’t approve of. Even as a widow living alone with my son, I still have someone to answer to. But you, Roslynn, you have no one at all to worry about, and yet you must give yourself over to some man who will delight in putting a harness on your freedom as Lord Henry did to me. And I know you don’t want to do it. I know that very well.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want, Frances. It’s what I have to do.”
“But why?” Frances cried in exasperation. “That’s what I want to know. And don’t just say again because you promised your grandfather you would. Tell me why he made you make such a promise. If it was so important to him, he had ample time to have married you off himself.”
“Well, as to that,” Roslynn replied, “there was no one I wanted to marry. And Gramp wouldn’t have forced me on someone I didn’t want.”
“In all these years? No one at all?”
“Och, I hate the way you sayall these years, Frances, I really do. Dinna remind me how difficult it’s going to be for me.”
Frances’ brown eyes widened. “Difficult?” She nearly laughed. “Posh! If ever there was going to be anything so easy, it’s getting you married. You’ll have so many hopefuls, you won’t know what to do with them all. And your age, m’dear, won’t matter one little jot. Good God, don’t you know how incredibly lovely you are? And if that weren’t enough, you’ve got a fortune that would make a banker positively drool.”
“I’m twenty-five years old, Frances!” Roslynn saidin such a way that she might as well have said one hundred.
Frances grinned. “So am I, and I don’t consider that ancient, thank you.”
