Flirting With Fortune

taking his meals at the Inn, he said, “Oh?”

“I have to say, I think you are a damn good match for her. I think you showed honor in the way you approached the subject of your finances and a clear determination to keep her best interests at heart. Most important, I’ve seen the two of you together.”

The sly look he gave Colin left him feeling completely exposed. What had he seen? Colin prided himself on his impassive facade—never revealing anything he didn’t intend to. Perhaps there was one emotion that simply couldn’t be hidden: love.

Raleigh shifted back in his chair, putting one hand to his chin and tapping the other on the gleaming surface of the desk. “I want my sister to be happy, Tate. I know what I’ve seen, but let me leave nothing to chance. Do you love her?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. None needed.

“Then I will offer you this: You may ask for her hand in marriage, but only under one condition.”

Caution and prudency went straight out the window as hope flared to life once more. “Name it.”

“Do not, under any circumstances, let her know about this whole mortgage business.”

Colin blinked. Surely he had misheard the earl. “You wish for me to lie to her?”

“No, of course not. If she should ever say to you, ‘Sir Colin, is your estate saddled with debt that can only be paid off with the use of my dowry?’ then obviously you should answer truthfully.”

So in other words, Raleigh wished for Colin to continue what he had been doing. Withholding the truth unless explicitly asked. The thought of it weighed heavy in his stomach, but what other choice did he have? The earl was offering him a way to be with the woman he loved and, by extension, save the estate for the family he loved.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“There is no need to decide anything now. I just wish for you to know this: I’ve never seen my sister quite so happy as when she is with you. The point is, I don’t want anyone to stand in the way of her happiness— including herself. I know how miserable a person can be when they decide to act with their head instead of their heart. It’s not a fate that I wish her to endure.

“From what I can tell, your financial distress is not of your making and can be fixed in short order. With any luck, Bea will be so pleased with the marriage settlement, she’ll never question what happens with the ten thousand.”

Coming to his feet, Colin offered the earl a curt nod. “Thank you for your time, your suggestion, and your faith in me. I can assure you it is not misguided.”

Raleigh tipped his head. “I’m counting on it.”

Colin turned and made his way to the door, feeling the earl’s gaze on his back the entire time. Just as his fingers touched the small brass knob, the earl said, “And, Sir Colin?”

He knew that had gone too well. Turning, he lifted a questioning brow.

“If I find that you are less than sincere in any of your intentions, I don’t care if I am just shy of the right of peer privilege. I will kill you.” The threat, delivered with a calm smile, was accompanied by dead-serious blue eyes.

“Duly noted.”

Chapter Twenty

If she never saw the inside of a modiste shop again, it would be too soon.

Beatrice sighed in relief when the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the black lacquer door of Granville House.

“I still think there was time to visit one more shop,” Carolyn said, straightening her bonnet as they waited for the door to open.

Beatrice barely had the strength to roll her eyes. “If six shops weren’t enough to find what you were looking for, I don’t imagine another would make much difference. Besides, Mama would have our heads if we stayed one minute after five.”

“Which makes it all the more intriguing,” Jocelyn replied, flashing a devilish grin. “If five o’clock is when the gentlemen come out to play, then I’d say it’s the perfect time for one to lose track of ten or fifteen minutes in a shop with an exceptionally large front window, don’t you?”

The door swung open before Beatrice could properly scold her, so she settled for a brief heavenward glance, with a shake of her head thrown in for good measure. She let her sisters disembark first, waiting patiently while they gathered their reticules and skirts. Lord, but she could already tell they were going to be trouble next Season. Half the words spoken today had been dedicated to the gentlemen at the gallery opening last night. Actually, it was more like three-quarters.

But for the first time, Beatrice had had absolutely no interest in discussing the gentlemen of the ton. She’d seen the other men there and had even spoken with several, but there was nothing about them that interested her any longer.

Which, in a roundabout way, explained why the day had been so tedious. She had exactly one man on her mind, and the whole time she was out, she was wondering if he would actually speak to her brother. She pressed her hand against her chest to combat the fresh wave of nerves that assailed her at the mere thought of such a thing.

She had been beyond bold by suggesting he do so, but why shouldn’t she have a hand in her future? Isn’t that what she had been encouraging with her letters to the magazine? For women to stop looking to others and instead take matters into their own hands?

When both girls had exited the closed carriage, she scooted to the edge, taking care to gather her skirts so they didn’t trip her. With her eyes on the step, she grasped the gloved hand waiting to assist her. But instead of providing impassive support, the servant’s hand returned her grasp, and she knew at once it wasn’t a servant.

Colin!

Her eyes darted up, meeting his with the sort of flash one expected during a lightning storm. She braced for the thunder and felt it all through her body, through every last fiber of her being.

He was here. He was smiling unabashedly at her, and his hand was holding hers as though it were a lifeline. Had he spoken to her brother? He had to have—otherwise he could have never been so forward, here in the open in front of her home. Her heart pounded in her chest as she allowed him to guide her to solid ground. At least it was supposed to be solid. She could have been standing on the deck of a ship at sea for all the steadiness she felt.

With her sisters looking on and them standing practically in the middle of St. James’s Square, she knew she should say something. Wetting her lips, she smiled up at him, letting her fingers drag against his as she released his hold. “Good afternoon, Sir Colin.”

“Good afternoon.” His voice was deep and rich and as delicious as warm chocolate. “I was just leaving when your carriage pulled up. I hope you don’t mind that I wished to say hello.”

He was just leaving? Even in her mind, the question came out like a squeak. Then he had to have spoken with Richard. “Well, if you have a few moments to spare, perhaps you would join us for tea?”

Beside her, Carolyn cocked her head to the side. “But we just had tea at—”

“Carolyn,” Beatrice interrupted, “why don’t you let them know that a tray will be needed in the drawing room?”

Her sister blinked, then—bless her—nodded and went to do her bidding. Beatrice turned to Jocelyn next, whose gaze seemed to miss nothing. “Would you mind fetching Mama and inquiring if she’d like to join us?”

“Certainly. Is there anything else you’ll be needing, my lady?”

Now was not the moment to be amused by her sister’s cheek. Bea widened her eyes in warning at the girl, who merely chuckled before retreating into the house. In the relative privacy of the front stoop, Beatrice paused long enough to smile up at Colin, wishing she could clasp hands with him again. “You came.”