“Two weeks,” he said. “You will accept every invitation I extend to you during that time. Rides in the park, escorts to balls—whatever I wish. A whirlwind love affair. Aren’t you pleased with the romance of it, Lady Eleanor? It’s what every young lady dreams of.”
I’m not every young lady.
He hadn’t any idea who she was, and his ignorance would cost him.
“At the end of two weeks’ time, we’ll announce our betrothal.”
“Or else? You sound like a villain, Mr. West. I can almost imagine I’ve stumbled into a drama at Drury Lane. Or is this a farce?”
“A comedy, my lady. Do you recall how those typically end?”
She gave him a cold smile. “Let me see if I remember my Shakespeare. Ah, yes. Weddings.”
He returned her smile with an even colder one of his own. “Very good, Lady Eleanor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend to today.”
“Extort a lady into marriage, and now it’s off to Tattersall’s?”
“No.” He raised a mocking eyebrow. “I went to Tattersall’s first.”
“Wise of you.” Eleanor managed a sweet smile through clenched teeth. “Wives are easily had in London, but one can’t say the same of excellent horseflesh.”
“You’ll soon find, Lady Eleanor, I insist on only the finest pedigrees in both my horses and my wives.” His icy green eyes swept over her. “There’s a great deal to be said for superior breeding stock.”
Eleanor managed another tight smile. “Indeed.”
He bowed. “I’ll return this afternoon to take you riding in Hyde Park.”
He wasn’t going to waste any time, then. Well, neither would she. “I do hope you don’t plan to abscond to Gretna Green with me under pretense of a jaunt around The Ring.”
She followed him into the entryway, where he collected his coat and hat from Rylands. “Two weeks, Lady Eleanor.”
After he was gone, Eleanor stood still for a long moment, hiding her shaking hands in her skirts, and staring at the place where he’d stood.
Two weeks.Two weeks to beat the devil at his own game.
Chapter Four
“What did Lady Frost say to your marriage proposal? I’ll wager she had a footman throw you onto your arse in the street.”
Cam tossed aside a sheaf of unanswered letters, leaned back in his chair and smirked at Julian, who’d fallen into a full sprawl on one of the leather chairs in front of Cam’s desk. “You’d lose that wager.”
“Indeed? Don’t tell me she accepted you. She didn’t look like the meek and biddable type to me. More like this type.” Julian picked up a letter opener, idly tested the point with a fingertip, and then drew it across this throat.
Cam laughed. “If she’d had a letter opener to hand, she might well have taken a chunk of my flesh.”
She’d never let her temper overcome her, but Cam had seen how furious she was. It seemed no one ever made Lady Eleanor Sutherland do anything she didn’t wish to do. She was a typicaltonfemale in that regard.
In most regards.
He rose, crossed to the sideboard and poured two whiskeys. He handed one to Julian, then reseated himself behind his desk. “She didn’tnotaccept me, and she agreed to go riding with me this afternoon in Hyde Park.”
Julian balanced one booted foot over the other knee. “She agreed? Or you bullied and threatened her until she understood she hadn’t any choice, and gave in? Be honest, Cam.”
Cam shrugged. “What difference does it make? The result is the same.”
“On the surface, yes. But I’d keep an eye on the blades once you’re wed, or you may wake one morning to find one at your neck.” Julian ran a thumb over the point of the letter opener again. “Lady Eleanor would make a fetching widow, and a wealthy one.”
“Anticipating my demise, cousin? You forget the lady must be a wife before she can become a widow.”
