“No reason for you to. He decided against joining the Heirs’ Club when he became eligible.” Seaton handed Bray a piece of paper. “Directions to the man’s house?”
Bray stared at the writing without making sense of the words. How the hell had he gotten into this mess? “Damnation, I wish I had never gone near Rotten Row tonight,” he said, biting back the real words: He wished Prim hadn’t died.
“Where is Lord Wayebury’s dog?” Seaton asked.
Bray grunted another oath, grabbed his hat, and opened the door. “In the garden, where he belongs. If only dealing with a man’s sister were as easy as dealing with his dog.”
Chapter 3
Women may fall, when there’s no strength in men.
—Romeo and Juliet,act 2, scene 3
Two years later
Though Bray had never met her, Miss Louisa Prim made his life a living hell since he’d first heard her name. It was time he settled with her.
Bray stared out the carriage window as it rolled to a stop in front of the newest Viscount Wayebury’s Mayfair town house. A slow, steady rain fell to the already soggy earth. Bray had known this day was coming. He just hadn’t wanted it to come so soon.
Soon?
It had been over two years since Nathan Prim’s death on Rotten Row. Many would not consider that quick, but Bray did. He’d hoped Prim’s sister would find a beau and be the wife of someone else by now, but she was obviously waiting for him to make good on his promise.
Unfortunately for him.
For the past two years, he couldn’t go to a party, a foxhunt, or even to a club without someone asking him either when or if he was going to marry Miss Prim. Not even his snarls and swears could keep the ton’s hunger for gossip at bay.
Since his father’s death last fall, Bray had been settling in to the duties of being a duke. He’d never cared a damn about the title, though he always knew it would be his one day. He’d half-lived in a way that most men wouldn’t have survived. But he did survive, and despite his reluctance, he’d realized that along with everything else, his father taught him well how to handle the constant flow of decisions to make and questions to answer from the managers of all the estates, horses, lands, and the many companies presently entrusted to his care.
For now, with brooding resignation, Bray had come to accept the confining responsibility he inherited. And with the sense of responsibility, he had also come to the conclusion that because of what he learned were the underhanded actions of a cowardly uncle, it was time to make good on his pledge to Nathan Prim. It was time to tell Miss Prim they would be married.
But he would never like it.
Bray’s father had been a dashing, hot-blooded man who loved many women, and made no bones about being honored that his son had followed in his footsteps. Neither Bray nor his father checked their self-restraint when it came to something that brought them pleasure, be it a voluptuous woman or a new racehorse. Bray wasn’t about to let his duty to Miss Prim change that.
“Do you want me to go in with you?”
Bray grunted a laugh. He had been so intent on his thoughts, he almost forgot Seaton was in the carriage with him. “Hell no. I don’t even know why I agreed you could ride with me to Miss Prim’s house.”
“Perhaps because, like me, you feared you might have a change of heart at the last second and end up telling your driver to keep going right past the house without stopping.”
There was more truth to that comment than Bray wanted to admit. Deciding to willingly give up a portion of one’s freedom wasn’t an easy choice to make. However, those thoughts were best left in his own mind. “Have you no faith in me, Seaton?”
“None,” the old man answered with a twinkle in his midnight-colored eyes.
“As much as you would like for it to be so, I am not a boy who needs help from the schoolmaster to get his assignments accomplished. You are my friend, not my keeper.”
“Noted and accepted,” Seaton offered with an easy smile, “but you are late fulfilling your commitment.”
“I need no reminder from you. I had enough of them from my father when he was living. I’ve finally grown weary of the constant questions from the ton about Miss Prim, and men placing bets all over London about whether I would live up to my promise to marry her. Then, as if all that weren’t enough, I received that terse letter and the documents from her uncle last week. If I ever get my hands on that man, he’ll know damned well how I feel about his underhanded tactics.”
“That was sly of him.”
“Dangerous, Seaton. I’ll find a way to repay him for his cowardly acts.”
“I can’t say that I blame you. I can understand his wanting to force you to take on the responsibility of Miss Louisa Prim, but dumping guardianship of the other girls in your care is unforgivable.”
“And you can be sure it won’t be,” Bray said, his anger heating at the thought. “Even though the blasted blackguard gave me no idea which country he’d escaped to, I hired a runner from Bow Street to go after him immediately, find him, and drag him back here by his hair if necessary.”
