The Unexpected Heiress Read online

  She was there looking to find a husband.

  The very thought tied her stomach into tight little knots.

  The dance ended and Lord Ainsworth escorted her back to Lavinia. After she thanked him for the dance, Lavinia shook her head. “No,” she whispered so only Meredith could hear. “His family is on the brink of ruin.”

  With a heavy heart, Meredith watched Lord Ainsworth head toward his friend, the pompous earl.

  It seemed that poor Ainsworth was in the same predicament as she was. He needed to marry someone with money to save his family, just as she did. Apparently, that was the way of the world. Perhaps she would write a story about young women marrying for money when she finished The Edge of Danger. She’d call it, Mercenary Maidens. Then she laughed in spite of herself.

  “He seemed rather nice though,” she said to Lavinia.

  “Yes, he’s a nice young man, Meredith, but don’t waste your time on the likes of him.” Lavinia smoothed her hand over her ashy blond hair that was similar to Aunt Delilah’s. “There’s no future in it.”

  “Where is Aunt Delilah?” asked Meredith, glancing around.

  Lavinia pointed to the dance floor. “She’s with Nicholas Clark. He’s an old suitor of hers, from before she left for America.”

  Tiny, five-foot-one Delilah Remington was dancing with a six-foot tall man. An incongruous sight! He was an older man, graying around the temples, but quite dignified looking. Meredith grinned at them. Delilah was as determined to find herself a new husband as she was at finding one for her niece.

  “Let’s get some punch, shall we, Meredith?” Lavinia suggested, her chubby face showing signs of perspiration. “It’s rather warm in here.”

  Meredith had begun to follow, when a tall, broad, male figure stepped in front of her.

  “Excuse me, Miss Remington. May I have the honor of the next dance with you?” a deep, rich voice asked.

  It was the handsome and pompous earl!

  In spite of Lavinia’s vigorous nods of encouragement, which declared Lord Waverly as an acceptable dance partner, Meredith’s first instinct was to refuse him. How she longed to spurn his offer, if only to see a look of surprised indignation on his smug, handsome face!

  But his gorgeous green eyes boldly dared her to dance with him. They glittered with amusement and superiority as if to say, are you afraid? Meredith was not one to back down from a challenge. She glared at him, piercing him with her frostiest stare, leaving him with no doubt about how little she thought of him.

  “Yes, you may.”

  With that brisk acceptance, Meredith walked with him to the dance floor just as a waltz began.

  As they took their positions and his arm encircled her waist, a little thrill went through her. Just the touch of his gloved hand against hers sent a shiver of delight coursing through her body. He smelled good too. She recalled that from seeing him earlier that day. Was it bergamot? She wasn’t sure. The man was so startlingly handsome. The force of it momentarily knocked her off balance, and she stumbled awkwardly.

  One dark eyebrow rose in question and he paused while she righted herself. “Are you quite all right?” he asked in mock innocence. “Do you require assistance?”

  “I am just fine, thank you.”

  She was mortified, but would not give him the satisfaction, although she sensed that he already knew. Her cheeks turned scarlet, and she avoided looking directly at him.

  They began to move in time with the lilting music.

  She hated to admit it, but he was an excellent dance partner. He had a firm grip on her, yet it was a light touch. His movements were commanding but not pushy. He was graceful while at the same time entirely masculine. He knew exactly what he was doing. Unlike Lord Ainsworth, who floundered about more than he actually led her, Lord Waverly was quite accomplished. In fact, he was perfect. Drat him!

  “You don’t like me, do you?”

  She looked up at him then. He was grinning at her, his dimple flashing and his eyes full of amusement. It was quite dizzying to look in his eyes.

  “What gave it away?” she responded dryly.

  He laughed then. Actually threw back his head and laughed.

  The sound of his laughter warmed her. He had such a wonderfully shaped mouth, and she idly wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him, a man who knew what he was doing. And Lord Waverly clearly seemed like a man who knew what he was doing. It would be something special to be kissed by him.

  Meredith! She mentally shook herself at her wayward thoughts.

  “Why is that so funny?” she asked when he finally composed himself.

  “Because you’re honest.”

  “And that amuses you?”

  He looked at her quite earnestly. “No, it’s not funny in that sense. However, I find your honesty refreshing. You don’t hide your feelings, unlike most women I’ve met. I know you don’t like me, and you didn’t deflect when I called you out on it.”

  “You’re a very odd man.”

  He laughed again. “I admit I have never been called odd before. So now you must tell me . . . why don’t you like me? Is it because I was staring at you in the bookshop?”

  “You were rather rude,” she pointed out. Did she not like him? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps she liked him a little bit.

  He twirled with her so gracefully, she felt as if she were flying. Meredith had danced with dozens of gentlemen back in New York, but Lord Waverly was by far the best partner. Never had she so enjoyed a dance. She found herself wishing the waltz wouldn’t end.

  “Perhaps it was rude of me to stare,” he offered.

  “It was more than staring. It was ogling.”

  “But you smiled at me when I ogled you.”

  “I did no such thing!” she protested. “You smiled at me after you winked at me.”

  “Because I could tell that you liked when I winked at you.”

  “That’s not true in the least.” Meredith stared at him in fascination. “My, my, you are full of yourself. Your vanity knows no limits.”

  Again he smiled at her and she was enchanted by him.

  He said in a low voice, “Did you ever think it was your fault, Miss Remington?”

  “My fault?” She almost laughed. “How would your rudeness be my fault?”

  He gave her a pointed look. “You are most definitely a beautiful woman. Your beauty captivated me, and I could not look away. I was helpless. The blame is clearly at your feet.”

  Ignoring the giddiness that spread through her at his words, Meredith rolled her eyes at him. “If you think I shall fall for your arrogant charm, you are sadly mistaken, Lord Waverly.”

  Again, he flashed that devilish smile. “Good girl! I was just testing you!”

  “And clearly, I passed.” She grinned back at him. She couldn’t help herself. His smile was so irresistibly charming.

  “Clearly.”

  “Do you test all the women you dance with?”

  “Just the ones who stare right back at me in a bookshop.”

  They both gazed into each other’s eyes then. She recognized the admiration she saw within their green depths. Meredith felt her pulse race unexpectedly.

  “I liked that you stared back at me,” he said in a low voice.

  “Then I wish I had not done so.”

  “But you did,” he reminded her, raising and lowering his eyebrows. “Because you couldn’t help yourself.”

  “I stared because I was stunned by your boldness. There’s a difference.”

  “You stared at me because I’m a handsome devil.”

  “You are the most conceited man,” she said. But she grinned at him while she said it.

  “Guilty as charged.” He winked at her again. “But you also know I’m right.”

  Luckily for Meredith, the waltz came to its inevitable end before she could respond to him. Her heart was pounding, and her cheeks were hot, so flustered was she by their conversation.

  She’d never bantered with a gentleman like
that before and had found it thrilling. She’d attended a few dances in New York but had never met anyone remotely like Lord Waverly. He irritated and attracted her at the same time.

  With his hand on her arm, he escorted her back to where Delilah was now standing with her sister Lavinia, both of them regarding her intently.

  “Thank you for a lovely dance, Miss Remington.” Lord Waverly bowed elegantly, and she caught his eyes. They flickered with amusement.

  “Thank you, Lord Waverly.”

  He wished her and both of her aunts a good evening and left them. Meredith watched him walk away with an odd mix of regret and relief. He had been a wonderful dancer. And as much as she hated to admit it, she had enjoyed herself with him, in spite of his being an insufferable flirt and vain rogue.

  “Oh, he’d be a good catch!” Lavinia exclaimed, with a spark of excitement in her eyes. “He’s from a good family, and they have lots of money. And a simply gorgeous house in Mayfair!”

  “And he’s ever so handsome, Meredith!” Delilah smiled with undiluted glee. “I hope he decides to call on you!”

  Meredith froze at her aunt’s words.

  To be pursued by the pompous lord filled her with trepidation. She couldn’t imagine being married to a man so full of himself, no matter how handsome, charming, and fascinating he was. A man like that would demand too much of her attention and would never allow her to write. His ego would not allow it.

  With a heavy sigh, Meredith pasted a smile on her face as she met her next dance partner.

  * * *

  “Who was that you were dancing with this evening? The pretty brunette?” Lady Katherine Vickers asked him later that same night, when they were alone in her bedroom.

  “Just the newest young heiress from America looking for an English title.”

  Phillip shrugged carelessly as he eyed the front of Katherine’s low-cut gown. Her body was a delicious temptation. He reached out a hand to tug down the front of her jade-colored dress.

  “Then it’s a good thing I already have a title,” she retorted in a breathy voice.

  “Is that right, my lady?” he said, as he ushered her closer to the massive four-poster bed draped with pink velvet curtains that dominated her luxurious bedroom.

  She began to breathe heavily. “I am your lady.”

  Had she emphasized that she belonged to him or had he only heard what he wanted to hear? He thought of what his mother had mentioned to him earlier. That Katherine was telling her friends that she would marry him.

  “Are you mine, Kitty?”

  The words flew from his lips before he was able to stop them. He almost wished he could take them back. Almost. Phillip held his breath while he waited impatiently for her answer.

  “Phillip, you know I am yours, but . . .”

  A pretty pout crossed her face as she loosened her thick blond hair from the pins that held it in place on top of her head. She gave her head a little shake and her hair cascaded around her shoulders in silken golden waves.

  “But what?” he asked, mesmerized by her erotic movements. He reached out to touch her hair.

  She pulled away from him and sat upon the edge of the bed. “I don’t like you dancing with that young girl.”

  His heart leapt with joy. Katherine was jealous! Of the American oil heiress, of all women. He smiled at her and said teasingly, “Why not? Are you afraid she’ll steal me away from you?”

  She turned to look directly at him. “Yes. I am.”

  Oh, how he’d longed to hear these words from her! For months she’d kept him on pins and needles, never knowing if she would see him or not. She blew hot and cold, and he had no way of knowing what to expect from her. But now . . . now he had the upper hand. He finally had Lady Katherine Vickers’s attention.

  She wanted him.

  Katherine crossed her arms across her chest, which only amplified her cleavage, pushing her breasts almost up and out of her gown. The motion distracted him for a moment.

  “Why are you afraid?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Because you’re mine, Phillip. . . . And I want us to be together.”

  “We are together,” he said. He was baiting her, and she knew it.

  “For now.” She gave him an arch look.

  “For now,” he echoed calmly.

  “And what about the future?” she asked.

  “What about it?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.

  “Phillip, are you going to make me say it?” She was irritated with him now. “Then fine. I’ll say it. Are we going to get married?”

  “I don’t know that we need to marry. I like things as they are between us. But then again, I wouldn’t rule anything out, Kitty.”

  He kissed her to keep her from talking about it anymore. He truly did not wish to marry her, or anyone else for that matter. But he liked knowing that he could have her if he wanted to, after she had played so many games with him.

  It was good to have some of his power back.

  6

  On the Same Page

  It was too late to escape. She was trapped.

  But that didn’t prevent her from struggling against the strong arms that held her like bands of steel. She kicked. She squirmed. She would have screamed, but his gloved hand completely covered her mouth, making it difficult to even breathe. Complete and utter terror flooded every fiber of her being. She was going to die here in the darkened woods.

  No one would be able to rescue her in time. No one would know where to find her. She never should have come out here in the first place. She should have at least told Peter where she was going. What on earth had she been thinking? She was such a great fool.

  And now she would die at the hands of a madman for her foolish mistake.

  “Shh . . . shh,” he whispered over and over in her ear. “I won’t hurt you, Olivia.”

  Stunned, she paused her frantic attempts to free herself for a moment. Had she heard him correctly? Oh dear God, was he going to torture her first? Was that to be her fate?

  “There, there . . . that’s it. Calm yourself. There’s no need to struggle against me. I’ll let you go if you promise not to scream. And don’t run away. I can explain everything.” His voice was calm, even soothing.

  What was this? How was she not already strangled? How was she still alive? Was it some sort of trick? Or just a momentary reprieve before he killed her? Relief filled her anyway. Maybe there would be a chance for her to make an escape. Hesitantly, she let her body grow limp, and she nodded in agreement not to scream.

  He removed his hand from her mouth, and she breathed in great gulps of the cold, fog-drenched air. It had never felt so good to breathe!

  He still held her firmly in his grasp as he stood behind her. She could not move her arms. Oddly enough, there was a sense of security being in his arms, resting her weary body against his broad, masculine chest. She could not see his face, yet his voice was oddly familiar.

  “Who are you?” she whispered hoarsely.

  “I’m not who you think I am, but you’re in great danger. Let me help you.”

  Her mind reeled at his words. Who was it that held her this way? If it had been Huntley who’d found her, she would be dead by now. Olivia was certain of it. So, who was this man? And more importantly, what did he want with her?

  Let me help you, he had said.

  * * *

  “May I help you?”

  Startled by the interruption, Meredith glanced up from her manuscript.

  An elegant-looking woman stood in front of her. Her coffee-colored hair, barely dusted with some gray at the forehead, was arranged stylishly around her pretty face. She was petite and dressed beautifully, with kind blue eyes that looked at Meredith with interest. For the briefest instant, Meredith thought her mother was standing before her.

  Meredith refocused and asked, “Excuse me, did you say something?”

  The woman smiled warmly. “Yes, I’m very sorry to interrupt you, especially when you looked
so intent on your writing. But I just wondered if I could get you anything. A cup of hot tea? Or a fresh lemon scone perhaps? They’re really quite delicious.”

  “Oh, no, thank you. I’m fine.”

  Meredith felt a little flustered by the sudden attention. She didn’t mean to cause a fuss to anyone in the shop. She had just needed to get out of the house.

  She’d been unable to find a quiet place to write at Lavinia’s townhouse without everyone interrupting her, so she’d escaped that afternoon and taken refuge at the one place in London where she felt at home, Hamilton’s Book Shoppe.

  The charm of the place beckoned to her, and she enjoyed the calm and bookish atmosphere. She found a lovely corner table and chair near the back of the shop where no one would disturb her and had gotten quite a bit of writing done in the hour or so that she’d been there. She had been so involved in her story that she had lost track of her surroundings.

  “I am the owner of this bookshop, and I just happened to notice you. . . . I’m so thrilled that there is a writer here. Do you mind if I ask what you’re writing?”

  The woman expressed such genuine interest that Meredith could hardly refuse.

  “It’s a mystery novel. More of a suspenseful mystery, I suppose. I don’t want to tell you too much, or I’d spoil the fun of reading it. I’m not quite finished yet, but I’m getting closer,” Meredith said, a little burst of pride welling in her chest. She rarely had an opportunity to talk to anyone about her writing. Delilah had always dismissed it as a frivolous pursuit, and now Aunt Lavinia was no better.

  “You’re writing a book!?” The woman’s face lit up. “How exciting! I should love to read it one day when it is published. You are planning to publish it, are you not?”

  Meredith nodded with a shy smile. “That is my goal. To become a published author. One day. Hopefully soon.”

  “We’ve never had an author actually writing in our shop before, and I shall take great pride in saying that Hamilton’s discovered you first! I’m Colette Hamilton Sinclair, and my sisters and I own this bookshop as well as a few others. I’m so pleased that you are here, and you are welcome to stay and write as long as you like.”