The Unexpected Heiress Page 5

  “That’s quite enough now, Mother.” He patted her shoulder. “You mustn’t talk this way, for you’ve done nothing wrong. You have been a model mother. And my behavior of late, although not a stellar example of proper deportment, is in no way a reflection of your mothering. I’m just having a bit of fun before I settle down. There’s nothing to fuss over.”

  His mother sniffed. “But you’ve taken up with that Vickers woman. It’s such a scandal, Phillip. The things people are saying about her . . .”

  Phillip withdrew his arm from her shoulder and looked away from his mother.

  Lady Katherine Vickers elicited strong opinions within polite society, there was no doubt about it. But that was what made her so exciting. She was irreverent and witty and audacious. Not to mention wickedly seductive, with bedroom skills too wonderful to believe.

  “I just don’t understand how you can associate with a woman like that.”

  He turned and glared at her, a bit of anger rising within his chest. “A woman like what, Mother? A widow? A beautiful woman who is alone through no fault of her own? You hold her in low regard because her husband died two years ago, and she has chosen not to remarry? You judge her, yet you don’t even know her.”

  “I know enough of her,” Colette shot back at him, her tears disappearing. “Lord Vickers married her in his dotage. She was a stage actress from who knows where when he picked her up. She’s not good enough for you.”

  “I would have thought that you, Mother, of all people, would be the last to look down upon someone because they were not high born.”

  His mother was the daughter of a tradesman and she was raised above a bookshop, for crying out loud! She ought to have more sympathy and understanding for Katherine.

  “If it were only just that, Phillip!” she cried, becoming irate. “Lady—and I use that title very lightly—Vickers has bedded just about every male in town, married and unmarried. I have met her on occasion, and she is coarse, common, and rude. I won’t have it! I won’t have her in our house or as a part of our family!”

  “So that’s what all this is about? You don’t want me to marry her? Who said anything about my marrying Lady Vickers?”

  Honestly, his mother was hysterical over nothing. Phillip’s annoyance grew at her state of panic. He was having a glorious time with Katherine, but the matter of marriage had not once entered his mind.

  “Everyone is saying it, Phillip, because she has been saying it!”

  Dumbfounded, Phillip stared at his mother. “What?”

  “Apparently, your lady has been telling her closest friends that the two of you have been making plans to marry soon. Lady Abbott mentioned it to me earlier today when she came by the shop. And believe me, if Lady Abbott knows about it, then everyone in London knows, and I just hope . . .”

  As his mother continued her little tirade, Phillip’s heart leapt at the thought of having Lady Katherine Vickers as his wife. He hadn’t believed she was serious about him in any way up until now! He’d assumed they were simply having a deliciously sinful romp together that would run its eventual course and come to an amicable end in due time.

  But marriage? With Katherine? He’d never even considered it a remote possibility.

  Yet now that he knew that she had not only considered wedding him, but she expected it, his entire perspective changed. Marriage with Katherine? It would never be dull, that was for certain, and there would be definite advantages to having her permanently in his life.

  His chest swelled with pride at the very thought of her wanting to be his wife. He hadn’t thought she wanted to remarry after her disastrous first marriage, and he was oddly touched by her sentimentality. She must love him to wish to marry him! The beautiful and sophisticated Lady Katherine Vickers was in love with him and wanted to be his wife! It was like a miracle.

  She wanted him.

  The novel notion set his heart to pounding. He felt almost giddy with excitement.

  “Phillip, would you please stop smiling like an idiot and answer me?”

  He blinked in surprise at his mother, who glared at him. She was clearly unhappy with the situation, but at least she was no longer crying and blaming herself. He could not conscience that.

  “Forgive me. What did you say?” he questioned, still a bit bemused.

  “I asked if you were planning to marry that woman.” Her delicate eyebrows furrowed with worry and disbelief. “Is it true?”

  Phillip knew the easiest, and safest, course of action was to tell his mother that the rumor wasn’t true. That Katherine had been speaking out of turn. That this was the first he’d even heard of it. But suddenly he wanted the rumor to be true. He loved the idea of Lady Katherine Vickers loving him and wanting to be his wife. And he couldn’t wait to talk to her about it.

  The carriage came to a stop in front of Devon House.

  “What if it is true?” he asked with a careless shrug. “Would that be so terrible?”

  “Oh, Phillip! You can’t be serious! She will ruin you, humiliate you, and break your heart. She would never be faithful to you nor would she be a fit mother. You can’t wish to tie yourself to a woman like that!”

  There was some validity to her words. There was no denying that. But he didn’t wish to acknowledge her accuracy. He was too annoyed with her.

  “Perhaps I do.”

  A groom, dressed in the Devon House livery, opened the carriage door to help his mother down. Ignoring her irate and astonished expression, Phillip watched her enter the house and then instructed the driver to continue on.

  He certainly wasn’t going home tonight.

  5

  The Writing on the Wall

  “Have you seen the latest American heiress to grace our fair city?” Edward Ainsworth asked as he adjusted his black cravat and smoothed his blond hair.

  Phillip Sinclair sipped a glass of scotch as his eyes scanned the ballroom. “Can’t say that I have.”

  He wasn’t terribly interested in wealthy American girls looking to marry into the British aristocracy. There’d been such a slew of them lately. No, he had his eyes on a far more seductive prize than an American debutante on the prowl for an Englishman with a title.

  He was searching for Lady Katherine Vickers. After that dreadful scene with his mother earlier that afternoon, he’d gone to see Katherine, but she hadn’t been home. Phillip left word with Katherine’s butler that he’d see her this evening at the Braithwaites’ ball. But as he glanced around the grand ballroom yet again, he still had not found her among the throng of elegantly attired guests.

  “Well, everyone has been buzzing about this Miss Remington. She’s a real stunner too. And worth millions in oil, I hear. I must admit that I wouldn’t mind lining my pockets with all those American dollars, while having a woman like that warm my bed at night.” With a knowing look, Edward Ainsworth motioned toward the far end of the ballroom.

  Phillip idly turned his gaze to see a true beauty.

  Miss Remington stood almost regally among a throng of admiring males. In a gorgeous gown of pale pink silk with black lace accents on the edges, she stood out from all the other debutantes. But the gown wasn’t the reason no one could take their eyes from her.

  It was the way she carried herself. The sumptuous gown was a mere accent to her slim and shapely figure and flawless ivory complexion. Thick, lustrous hair, the color of chestnut, was styled in curls upon her head, exposing the graceful curve of her neck. Her face was incredibly beautiful, from the tilt of her elegant little nose to the determined point of her sweet chin. Wide blue eyes, fringed with thick lashes, danced with merriment, and the hint of a smile played around her luscious lips. Those lips . . . those eyes...

  He’d most definitely seen them before. Earlier that day in fact.

  At his mother’s bookshop.

  Phillip grinned in satisfaction. He was correct. The pretty girl he had shamelessly flirted with earlier that afternoon was an American. And apparently, an heiress. Not that that mattered to
him. Unlike some of his friends, Phillip’s father kept the family estate not only solvent, but also very profitable. Phillip had no need to marry for money.

  Still, he was intrigued by the girl who had rebuffed him so carelessly in the bookshop. He liked that she wasn’t in awe of his status when most people fawned all over him. In fact, she most likely had no knowledge of who he was. But she would learn in due time.

  What had those children called her? Mer . . . Merry? Merry! That was it! So the beautiful heiress over there was Miss Merry Remington from the United States. And as his friend had remarked, she was, indeed, quite a stunner.

  The woman would have no lack of admirers, either, broke or not. Some lucky man would snap her up right away. She’d be married off in a matter of weeks.

  An odd sensation pulled at his chest at the thought of her being married. Startled, he shook off the feeling and remarked to Edward, “Yes, she’s quite the catch.”

  “I’m going to make an offer for her.”

  “You haven’t even met her!” Phillip exclaimed after laughing at his friend. “You know nothing about her, Ainsworth. She could be a dreadful harridan.”

  Even though Phillip instinctively knew she wasn’t, simply from their brief encounter in the bookshop, he unexpectedly bristled at his friend’s careless perusal of her.

  “Doesn’t matter. With that beautiful face and body and all that money . . . She could be a witch, and I wouldn’t care.” Edward Ainsworth, already tall and lanky, stood straighter as he spoke. “Let’s go wrangle an introduction. There’s no time to lose. I already see our old chum Wilkerson sniffing around her. We can’t have that now. She deserves far better than the likes of him.”

  Phillip followed after his friend, intrigued by the thought of formally meeting the bookshop girl. As they drew closer to the beautiful American and the group surrounding her, Edward sidled right up to one of the two matrons who watched over the girl like a hawk. Phillip vaguely recognized the older, stouter one.

  “Good evening, Lady Eastwood.” Edward bowed in deference to the rather plump woman.

  “Good evening, Edward. How is your dear mother?” Lady Eastwood asked.

  “She’s doing very well.” Edward smiled, but his eyes were on the beautiful young woman in pink. “But I must say you’re looking quite splendid tonight.”

  “You can stop with the flattery, Edward,” the woman responded wryly. “I gather that you and Lord Waverly here would like an introduction to my lovely niece from America. Well, she’s not actually my niece, she’s my sister Delilah’s niece, but I shall introduce you to her just the same. Delilah, I’d like you to meet Lord Ainsworth and his friend, Lord Waverly. Gentlemen, this is my sister, Mrs. Delilah Remington, and her niece, Miss Meredith Remington, from New York City.”

  Phillip watched with anticipation as Miss Remington and her two aunts spoke with Edward.

  She truly was a pretty thing, quite lovely really. There was something about how she moved, how she carried herself, that drew him in. When she finally turned to greet him, he was momentarily stunned by the disdainful look in her eyes.

  And he was oddly disappointed that she did not seem to recognize him.

  Did she truly not recall their little encounter? Was he that forgettable? Phillip was not inclined to think so. Practically all the females he met, young and old, fawned over him. For what was there not to fawn over? He was a young, handsome, wealthy, and very eligible member of the aristocracy. And he was charming to boot.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Remington,” he said, acting as if he had not seen her in the shop earlier that day.

  “Good evening . . . Lord Waverly, was it?” she murmured carelessly before dismissing him entirely by turning her attention back to Ainsworth.

  Edward was almost giddy with the attention she paid to him, and before Phillip knew what had happened, Miss Meredith Remington, the oil heiress from New York, was on the dance floor with his penniless friend. Phillip watched them carefully while he made small talk with Mrs. Remington and Lady Eastwood, and then he walked to the edge of the ballroom. He had a much better view of the waltzing couple from there.

  Miss Remington was quite graceful as she stepped easily in time with the music. Was Ainsworth holding her a little too closely? There should be a more respectable space between them, certainly. Shouldn’t her aunt step in and separate them?

  “There you are, Phillip, darling.”

  The sultry voice filled him with excitement, and he knew Lady Katherine Vickers was standing behind him. Her ample breasts brushed up against his back.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she murmured softly, pressing herself against him.

  His heart rate increased at her words. She had been looking for him. Now that was more like it. He turned to face her. “Well, it seems you have found me.”

  A slow smile lit up her pretty face. In her sophisticated jade ball gown, with her golden blond hair done up around her head, she appeared to be a proper lady. Quite different from the wanton, naked woman he had had his way with just two nights ago.

  She leaned ever so slightly closer to him and said in a breathless whisper, “I’m lucky to have finally found you, for I have missed you greatly, and later this evening I intend to show you just how much I’ve been longing for you.”

  “Then by all means, show me,” he responded, wishing he could wrap her up in his arms and kiss her senseless, as he’d done on more than one occasion.

  With a satisfied smile, Katherine added in a throaty whisper, “Come to my house at midnight after we have left this dismal little party. I shall make you very, very glad that you did.”

  “How can I resist such an offer? I’ll be there.” Phillip watched her saunter out of the ballroom. He checked his gold pocket watch. It was only nine-thirty. How would he survive until midnight?

  * * *

  Meredith Remington watched in fascination as Lord Waverly spoke with the willowy blonde in the corner of the ballroom. She had been right.

  The dashingly handsome man from the bookshop was a pompous English lord!

  He had been so smug when she’d been introduced to him, that she had to fight the impulse to smack him. It seemed he had expected her to ignore his brazen behavior that afternoon and fawn all over him like every other woman he’d ever met. She’d seen it in his expression, the recognition, when he saw her. Meredith decided not to give him the satisfaction.

  So she ignored him and acted as if she’d never laid eyes on him before. He looked dumbfounded when she favored his tall friend with her attention instead.

  It felt good to take him down a peg. It probably didn’t happen often enough to him.

  Oh, but he was so incredibly handsome! In his evening clothes he looked even more dashing and debonair than he had earlier that afternoon. He really would make the most perfect-looking hero in a novel. In fact, she had decided that she would rewrite the current blond hero in The Edge of Danger, so he looked exactly like Lord Waverly. But ever so much nicer.

  As she danced with Lord Ainsworth, she noted that Lord Waverly watched them very closely. His studied interest in her was a bit unsettling. Was it because he was a little smitten with her or simply interested in her supposed inheritance? Her curiosity piqued when the elegant blonde came over and whispered something in his ear. What on earth had she said to make him grin like that? The man’s smile could light up a darkened cave!

  “Have you been in London very long, Miss Remington?” Lord Ainsworth asked.

  His voice grabbed Meredith’s attention away from wondering what Lord Waverly and the lovely blond woman were up to together.

  “My aunt and I have been here only a week, but I’m enjoying it very much,” she murmured half-heartedly, with a bright smile pasted on her face.

  In truth, she longed to be back in New York, but she was trying to make the best of the situation. Having to pretend that she was an heiress when she was not one only complicated matters. Lord Ainsworth seemed quite nice
and even attractive, if a lady preferred her gentleman to be extremely tall and thin.

  As the dance moved on, she began to wonder, So just exactly what am I supposed to do now?

  Aunt Delilah’s sister, Lady Eastwood, had arranged for Meredith to be introduced into London society this evening, and the plan required her to try to become engaged to the wealthiest man she could in the shortest amount of time. The quicker, the better, before anyone discovered the truth about their dire financial situation.

  How was Meredith supposed to discern who had great wealth and who didn’t? It looked like everyone in that ballroom fairly dripped with money. But as Meredith knew all too well, looks could be deceiving.

  Now take this nice young man who had clearly shown interest in her. Did Lord Ainsworth have money? Or was he merely after hers? And how would she know the difference? And how would one of these fine English lords feel when they discovered that Meredith was not, as it turned out, an heiress after all?

  For the plan called for them to suddenly receive a telegram, right after the wedding, declaring that the Remington Oil Company was bankrupt.

  It seemed an awful plan to Meredith, but her aunt had given her no other alternative. And in the end, she supposed it was no worse than being forced into an arranged marriage. At least this way she was allowed some say in whom she married.

  In the meantime, what else was there for Meredith to do?

  As she looked this lanky man up and down, she tried to assess his character, if not his bank account. Would Lord Ainsworth make a good husband? Would he care for her? Would he support her writing career? Would this sandy-haired man with the too-wide smile and kind eyes be the man she would be tied to for the rest of her life?

  The thought sobered her.

  This London Season was a serious business.

  Marriages were being brokered in every corner as young girls in their debut season preened and the women in their last season looked desperate, while the anxious mothers assessed and appraised and the eligible gentlemen looking to wed scrutinized and judged. In truth, Meredith was no different than any other young lady in attendance at the Braithwaites’ ball.