Page 75 of War of the Wedding Wagers
His words seemed to startle her, for she jerked her head back up to look at him, before a sad smile settled upon her lips. “I have no inheritance to look forward to, Sir Frederick,” she said. “I’ve battled with myself the past few days as to how truthful I should be with you.” With a sigh, she went on, “But that is how it is, and it’s better you should know now.”
For a moment, Sir Frederick wasn’t sure how to respond. While the size of her inheritance was immaterial when it came to spending the rest of his life with a woman he thought would entertain and amuse him with her wit and her mind, he was certain she was putting a different slant on matters than when they’d first become acquainted.
“I hope you are not recalling an earlier conversation during which the size of a lady’s dowry was discussed, Miss Fairchild,” he said. “You do know that I consider a lady’s mind more important. The amount to which one is provisioned is nothing tobe embarrassed about.” He frowned, trying to broach the matter delicately. “I recall you did mention that you looked forward to retiring quietly to the country when you came into your inheritance in a few weeks.”
Whatdidshe really want? What did he really want? And why was he suddenly so concerned as to her answer?
“I no longer have an inheritance to look forward to,” she said, squaring her shoulders and looking suddenly defiant while he tried to hide his shock.
Turning on her heel, she added over her shoulder, “I gambled it all away.”
*
Edward had neverfelt so troubled.
Being troubled was not a state of mind that generally afflicted him. Every problem could be easily solved, he had always thought, studying the patterns made by the setting sun on the polished parquet floor. And that had been the case every time.
Until now.
Leaving his sister’s side as he caught a glimpse of Sir Frederick, he was deeply conflicted. The buzz of conversation and tinkling of glasses from nearby guests only heightened his sense of unease.
No, not conflicted. There was nothing to be conflicted about because the matter required a simple outcome.
The trouble was that the outcome he’d imagined would be so simple to effect had proved a monumental conundrum.
None of the blonde vivacious debutantes whom he’d thought would be just what Sir Frederick would find irresistible had managed to win from him a second glance. The carefullyarranged “accidental” meetings in the rose garden, the strategic placements at dinner—all had come to naught.
And Edward had been ever on his guard to gauge what Sir Frederick might find alluring, studying the gentleman’s reactions from behind potted palms and through the reflections in gilt-framed mirrors.
At first, Edward had been convinced that he was right on the money when Miss Playford had emerged as a likely contender during the treasure hunt.
But while there’d been lots of playful banter and giggling, there’d also been nothing more serious. In fact, Sir Frederick hadn’t even danced a single dance with Miss Playford, despite Edward’s careful maneuvering to place them together at every opportunity.
Not like he had with Mrs. Perry, whom Edward had quickly seen as an aspirant to his affections. The widow certainly knew how to command attention, her silvery laugh drawing eyes whenever she entered a room.
Except that the moment she was out of his orbit, Sir Frederick reverted to his usual self: impossible to read. More often than not, he was with his sister, which Edward thought proved Amelia was pretty clever. She obviously wanted to know exactly the kind of young lady Sir Frederick preferred, so she could push the right contender his way.
Except that nothing seemed to come of anything.
“Oh, Edward! Did I spill my drink on you? I’m so sorry?”
In the midst of his reverie, he turned to find Miss Playford smiling happily at him, her golden curls catching the candlelight. She really was a diamond of the first water, if Edward said so himself, and the fact that Sir Frederick didn’t think she was wife material was quite astonishing.
“Oh, Edward! I did, didn’t I? Otherwise you’d not look so downcast!” the young lady exclaimed, running her gaze thelength and breadth of him which he found he really rather liked. Her genuine concern warmed something in his chest that he forced himself to ignore.
He had more important things to worry about.
His sister was depending upon him and Miss Playford had, from the beginning, been a potential solution. Though looking at her now, with her eyes sparkling with mischief and kindness, he felt an unexpected pang of guilt at seeing her merely as a means to an end.
“Do you think Sir Frederick dashing?” he asked abruptly.
She blinked in surprise, then answered with another of her happy smiles, “Oh, he’s quite the most dashing gentleman I think I’ve ever met.”
“And I’m sure he must think you the most charming and beautiful of all the debutantes here. Has he danced with you?”
Miss Playford blinked. “Really, Mr. Fairchild! What a question? He thinks I’m all those things, but he thinks I’m a child and should have stayed another year in the schoolroom. Yes, that’s what he said!”
“Oh, good heavens, he said that?” Edward asked, and he must have looked so downcast that Miss Playford looked quite concerned.
