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Authors: Cheryl Holt

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BOOK: WANTON
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But at the moment, she couldn’t force herself to worry. Her prior life had been one of drudgery and duty and, suddenly, she was having so much fun.

Later on, Amelia would come to her senses and return to being the prudish person she’d been before traveling to London, but that period was far in the future.

“What will we try next?” Amelia asked.

“The seamstresses will visit us again. I have two old dresses for them to alter for you. Then we have a few balls lined up, as well as a trip to the theater. I’ll attempt to learn some of Mr. Drake’s schedule, and we’ll show up wherever he’s expected to be.”

“He might stop by here again too.”

“We can only hope. If he does, we’ll up the ante. The poor fellow doesn’t stand a chance.”

“He threatened to send Lord Sidwell over here instead.”

“Don’t fret about George,” Barbara cheerily said. “He and I go way back, and he wouldn’t dare bluster into my house for he’s aware that I’d toss him out.”

Amelia didn’t inquire as to what had transpired between Barbara and Lord Sidwell. Very likely, it was a risqué story that would have Amelia blushing for hours.

“What if we’ve miscalculated?” Amelia said. “Mr. Drake is renowned as a sloth. What if he decides I’m not worth the bother? I’d never see him again.”

“I doubt that. I’m good at predicting these things, and I predict we’ll reel him in like a fish on a hook.”

“And if we don’t?”

“We’ll figure out another path for you. But don’t let’s fuss about it. For now, we’ll focus on Mr. Drake and simply assume we’ll ensnare him.”

Amelia sighed. “My head is spinning with all this intrigue.”

“You’ll be in an outright dither before it’s over. There’s nothing quite so thrilling as the first throes of amour. I can’t wait to watch you muddle through it.”

Down in the foyer, someone knocked on the front door. Shortly, the butler started toward them, and Barbara grinned.

“I believe your surprise has arrived.”

Amelia frowned, then realized what she had to mean. “Is my brother here?”

“I’m guessing he is.”

The butler entered and announced, “Miss Barbara, Mr. Hubbard is calling.”

“Wonderful.”

Amelia was already up and out of her chair.

“He’s brought his friend, Mr. Blair,” the butler explained.

“Perfect. Show them in, would you?” Barbara told Amelia, “We’ll use both men to make Mr. Drake jealous as hell.”

Barbara’s comment raised a thousand questions, and Amelia probably should have posed some of them. But she hadn’t seen her brother, Chase, in over two years, and her situation with Mr. Drake was swiftly forgotten.

She raced down the hall, delighted to find her brother at the other end. She flew into his open arms, and as he hugged her tight, she felt as if they hadn’t been separated a single day.

* * * *

“Have you met her?”

“Who?”

“Amelia Hubbard.”

Lucas glared over at the man next to him, a gambler and rake named Bryce Blair. He was a long-time acquaintance of Lucas’s, and considering Blair’s many scandals, gaming misfortunes, and a few duels, he was more notorious than Lucas was himself. Or perhaps people would deem it to be a tie.

“I’ve met Miss Hubbard,” Lucas cautiously stated. “Why?”

“I went to a supper party at Barbara Middleton’s. Miss Hubbard is staying with her.”

“So I’ve heard,” Lucas blandly replied.

“She’s seems very lively.”

“Miss Hubbard?” Lucas asked. “I wouldn’t agree. I found her to be sharp-tongued, rude, and drab.”

Blair snickered in a lewd fashion. “She’s not drab now. On the contrary, she’s stunning.”

“I suppose you could view her that way. She cleans up nicely.”

“I’ve decided to seduce her.”

Lucas had just taken a sip of his drink, and he could barely keep from spitting the liquor out on the floor.

“Seduce her?” he gasped.

“It would be so easy. She’s practically begging to be ruined.”

“Miss Hubbard?” Lucas snapped.

“Yes, and with Mrs. Middleton egging her on, it could be wild.”

“You and I must be speaking of different women. The Amelia Hubbard I know is an absolute pillar of decorum.”

“She was,” Blair said, “but she’s not anymore.”

“You’re wrong,” Lucas insisted. “She’s a sheltered innocent, and I thought your tastes ran more along the lines of mine. Why would you bother?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Blair was almost boasting. “Besides, I’m chums with her brother, and he’s given me permission to do whatever I like to her.”

“To do what you...
like
?” Lucas was aghast. “What does that mean?”

“I asked him if he cares if I trifle with her, and he told me to have at it. He even wished me good luck.”

“That’s disgusting. What kind of brother is he?”

“The pragmatic kind. It’s not as if he has the assets to support her himself.”

“And
you
are thinking of supporting her?”

“No, I’m thinking of deflowering her. Her brother will likely put her virginity up for sale. I’ll bid on it. Won’t you?”

“Who the hell is her brother?”

“Chase Hubbard. Are you acquainted with him?”

Lucas vaguely knew Chase Hubbard. He was another handsome, charming rake and ne’er-do-well who gambled and swindled and made a general nuisance of himself. That snake in the grass was Miss Hubbard’s brother?

“Are Miss Hubbard and her brother close?”

“Not really.”

“Then why would he presume to give or withhold permission about her?”

“He doesn’t necessarily exert any authority. He simply declared himself fine with my scheme.”

“Fine?” Lucas sputtered.

“With Miss Hubbard in my sights, I should have an interesting month.”

“You certainly will.”

“Once it’s over, I’ll tell you all the salacious details, especially the color of her—”

Suddenly, Lucas felt as if he was choking. He wandered off without listening to the rest.

He was at his father’s town house, having slithered over to attend a huge party where he could eat and drink but have very little reason to actually interact with his father. The rooms were packed with people, the air stuffy, the temperature hot, and he couldn’t breathe.

Since his encounter with Amelia Hubbard the previous day, he’d been fretting and stewing. The blasted woman had gotten under his skin, and he couldn’t stop pondering her.

He’d barely kissed her, but he was overwhelmed by how sweet it had been, and he was curious as to how rapidly the incident might have escalated if Mrs. Middleton hadn’t barged in. When he’d first been introduced to Miss Hubbard, she’d seemed so sheltered, prim, and proper. Who could have guessed that under her dreary, unflattering gray dress there was hidden such an intriguing jewel?

Bryce Blair had already noticed her, and if Blair had noticed, who else had? What other cads were circling? How many rogues were gleefully plotting her downfall?

The notion was extremely upsetting, and he slipped outside onto the rear verandah, taking deep gulps of the cool night air. He had a minute of solitude, but that was all. Before he could regroup, Aaron’s fiancée, Priscilla Cummings, stepped out too. She saw him right away, and as she sauntered over, he sighed with exasperation.

She was beautiful and glamorous, but in an icy, unpleasant way. She had white blond hair, and her eyes were an odd shade of blue that was nearly violet. She understood how fetching she was, and she wielded her looks like a dagger, getting men to pant over her and her money. Unfortunately, she’d snagged his brother, and Aaron would be miserable forever. Lucas had a history with Priscilla that neither of them could ever reveal to Aaron. It wasn’t much of a history—a few heated kisses in a dark alcove—but still, it wasn’t the sort of secret he should confess. It would only grieve his brother.

When Lucas had dallied with her, she’d been a delicious bit of forbidden fruit. Sixteen and fresh out of the schoolroom, she’d drunk too much sherry and had sneaked away from her vigilant mother when she shouldn’t have.

Lucas never refused what was freely offered, and that evening she’d definitely
offered
. However, as he could have predicted, he’d found her to be tedious and spoiled, which were traits he loathed in a female, so he hadn’t trifled with her again.

Ever since then, she pretended she didn’t know him, that naught had happened. But
he
hadn’t forgotten, and she had to be constantly wondering if he might tattle to Aaron.

He wouldn’t, but he liked to suppose she was anxious over the possibility.

“Why are you here, Lucas?” she had the gall to ask.

“It’s my father’s house, Priscilla. I don’t need a reason.”

“Mother heard that you and Lord Sidwell had quarreled. She heard that you’d left.”

“He and I always quarrel, but I always return sooner or later.”

“Like a bad penny,” she spat.

“Yes,” Lucas chuckled, “just like that.”

“Aaron told me you aren’t coming to my wedding.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Good, but swear to me that you’re serious. Swear to me that you won’t come.”

“Swear?”

“Yes. It’s my big day and I won’t have you ruining it.”

“How could I ruin it?”

“Simply by being there. I know what you’re like. I shudder to imagine the tomfoolery you might instigate.”

If he’d intended to show up at Aaron’s wedding—which he hadn’t—it would never have occurred to him to cause any trouble, and he was irked by her vain belief that she mattered to him sufficiently that he’d expend any effort to misbehave.

“I’m not a glutton for punishment,” he scoffed, “so I would never force myself to endure the torment of sitting through your wedding.”

For a moment, she paused, frowning, as she realized she’d been insulted.

“Your comment is exactly why I don’t want you there.”

“And I’m not coming, so stop beating this dead horse.” She looked as if she’d start nagging again, and he cut her off. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother? I’d really rather not chat.”

“I have to put my foot down about another topic. Mother said I shouldn’t mention it, but I feel I must.”

“My, my, Priscilla, are you about to go against Claudia’s wishes? You daring girl, you.”

“I’m eighteen. I can think for myself. I hardly need her directing my every move.”

“Yes, but if she didn’t, you might walk off a cliff.”

“You are so rude,” she huffed.

“If you don’t like our conversation, you don’t have to stay out here with me. Oh, that’s right, you’re about to scold me. Well, have at it, Priscilla. What other ridiculous remark are you duty-bound to voice?”

“Lord Sidwell has betrothed you again.”

Lucas nodded. “He has.”

“You absolutely shall not marry her.”

“What?” Lucas banged a palm on his ear. “I could have sworn you just told me who I can—and can’t—marry.”

“I have, and you must listen to me.”

“Why would I?”

“You find it humorous to laugh at convention and disparage your father and his lineage, but you people—”

“Us
people?”

“Yes, you Drakes barely have any ancestry worth claiming. You can’t lower yourself further by attaching yourself to that schoolteacher.”

“Miss Hubbard is vexing you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re so outraged that you feel it’s appropriate to speak to me about her?”

“I won’t have that common woman in the family.”


You
won’t.”

“No. I’m about to be your sister-in-law and am in line to be Countess of Sidwell.”

“Lord help us all,” Lucas muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” Lucas kept his expression bland and innocent.

“After I’m countess, I’ll have authority over the happenings at Sidwell Manor, and I won’t stand for you marrying such a base person.”

“Miss Hubbard is
base
? I actually found her to be well-mannered and highly educated.”

“A sow is a sow,” she conceitedly retorted, “and cannot become a horse—despite how hard it tries.”

“Thank you for that brilliant analogy. If I ever talk to Miss Hubbard again, I’ll be sure to tell her your opinion.”

Priscilla gasped. “You can’t tell her! You must simply promise you won’t marry her. I can’t have you proceed with an unsuitable wedding immediately before my own grand celebration.”

“Oh, I see. So this is all about you?”

“Of course it’s about me. Who else would it be about?”

“It sounds like it’s about Miss Hubbard.”

“It’s not. A wedding is all about the bride. It’s not about the groom, and it’s most especially not about the groom’s brother. You can’t marry her. Swear to me that you won’t.”

Lucas studied her, and a wave of melancholy swept through him. He and Aaron had never been particularly close, but it saddened Lucas to envision his brother shackled to such a horrid shrew.

Lucas was a very contrary individual, and he disliked Priscilla so much that it was on the tip of his tongue to state that he was madly in love with Miss Hubbard—merely to send Priscilla into a frenzy. But he wouldn’t proclaim such a sentiment even if it was true, even if it meant he had to abandon the opportunity to infuriate Priscilla.

“Don’t worry, Priscilla, I will never marry, no matter how vociferously my father demands it. There is no wedding on the horizon with Miss Hubbard, and there never will be.”

“Marvelous.”

She stuck her nose up in the air and strutted inside.

* * * *

“I spoke with Lucas.”

“When?”

“A bit ago—on the verandah.”

Claudia glared at Priscilla and asked, “What did you talk about?”

“My wedding and a few other...topics.”

“What topics?”

“I informed him that we didn’t want him to attend the ceremony.”

“Priscilla, why must you butt in where you shouldn’t? You know Aaron already handled the situation.”

“I had to be sure, Mother. I couldn’t have Lucas waltzing in and ruining the event.”

“No, I suppose not, but Lucas is the type who will do something specifically because you told him not to. He thrives on discord. If you ordered him not to come, he might show up just to spite you.”

BOOK: WANTON
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