Page 48 of Not the Duke's Virgin

Numbly, she accepted congratulations from the other ladies, their exclamations blurring together in her ears.

Madeline embraced her, face alight with delight. “I am so thrilled for you!”

Over her cousin’s shoulder, Victoria glimpsed Oliver slip out of the room, his expression unreadable. A fresh wave of dread curled through her. What did he have in store for her, now that they were publicly engaged?

At last, Oliver came to claim her attention once more. Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, he led her away. “There now, that was not so difficult, was it?” he asked, sotto voce. “You performed beautifully.”

Victoria lifted her chin. “I have lived up to my end of the bargain. When do you intend to live up to yours and break this sham engagement?”

Oliver tsked. “Now, now, patience, my dear. All in good time.” His voice hardened. “Assuming you behave yourself and continue playing the part of blissful bride to perfection.”

Jaw clenched, Victoria held back the furious words that sprang to her lips. She could not afford to lose her temper and spark his ire. He held all the power still.

Smoothing her features into a facsimile of a smile, she replied lightly, “Of course. I am happy to play along with this game a little longer, as you wish.”

“See that you do,” Oliver murmured as guests moved to congratulate them once more.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Victoria clung to the fraying edges of her composure, smiling until her cheeks ached and making light conversation, though her nerves screamed.

* * *

Simon sat brooding in his study, a half-empty glass of brandy in hand. The house had finally fallen silent after the chaos and revelry of the past four days. Most of his guests had departed late that evening in a parade of carriages piled high with luggage.

Now blessed quiet reigned, leaving him alone with his churning thoughts. Chiefly, thoughts about the unsettling culmination of the house party—his brother’s sudden engagement to Lady Victoria Hatcher.

Try as he might, Simon could not make sense of it. Oliver had shown no prior attachment to the young lady, and she had seemed equally indifferent. Yet, now they presented the image of a couple deeply in love.

It did not sit right with Simon. In his heart, he knew they were not truly attached. This smacked of artifice and deception. But to what end?

The possibilities troubled him. Victoria was by all accounts a lady of modest means. She hailed from a minor noble family clinging to the fringes of polite society. What could she stand to gain from an alliance with a duke’s brother?

Wealth, stature, consequence—any number of advantages. Try as he might, Simon could only conclude the engagement was designed to reap some benefit for them both. Perhaps they hoped to lay claim to the sizeable inheritance Oliver would receive upon making a love match.

If so, they would fail. Simon knew real love when he saw it, and those two did not have it. He would not release the money until irrefutable proof was provided. He must protect the family’s assets and estate.

A thump and raised voices filtered through the study door. Simon grimaced.

Speak of the devil.

It seemed his brother had overindulged in the claret again.

Moments later, the door swung violently open, and Oliver stormed in. “Evening, dear brother,” he snarled, swaying slightly. “Hard at work as always?”

Simon slowly set down his brandy. “Oliver, I see you’ve been making the rounds of my cellars.”

Oliver threw himself into a leather chair. “Never you mind that. I’ve come to discuss more important matters.” He jabbed an unsteady finger. “That money is mine now. I’ve fulfilled the blasted terms of Father’s will.”

Simon arched an eyebrow. “Is that so? I was not aware you had found a true love match.”

“Don’t play the fool, Simon,” Oliver spat angrily. “You know very well Lady Victoria and I announced our engagement tonight.”

“Yes, quite a surprise, that one.” Simon studied his brother closely. “But I know you are faking it all.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “What does it matter? I’ve made my intention to marry her clear.” He smirked and added crudely, “Among other things.”

Simon tensed at the implication but kept his tone neutral. “Forgive me if I require more proof than a mere announcement of engagement. You understand I must be certain the terms are fully satisfied before releasing Father’s bequest.”

With a snarl, Oliver surged to his feet. “Don’t play the high-handed Duke with me! You’ll not cheat me out of what’s mine.” Swaying, he slammed his hands down on Simon’s desk. “Give me the money, damn you!”

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