An Innocent Proposal. Helen Dickson
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and his dogs, paying little interest to what was happening in the financial world until it was too late to do anything about it.
At twenty years old Louisa was younger than James by two years, but she had always been the sensible, practical one, while James was somewhat reckless and foolhardy and liked to live life to the full and in comfort. She had tried to guide and protect him since the death of their father four years ago, and would have dearly liked him to buy a commission in their father’s old regiment, but they could not afford it. However, with Britain now at war with France, at least she could take comfort in his not being killed on some far-off battlefield.
But James was not entirely selfish, believing that once he had established himself a fortune he would bring Louisa to London, where he would set about finding her a suitable husband.
Louisa turned and left the table just as the last hand was being played, no longer able to watch James lose all the money he had won earlier. No doubt four thousand guineas was a modest sum to Lord Dunstan, whereas to herself and James it was a fortune. Not until the game was over did she turn back to see Lord Dunstan rise from the table.
“Thank you. That was an excellent game,” he said as James quickly signed an IOU for the four thousand guineas he owed. James handed it to him and watched Lord Dunstan pocket it before slumping in his chair with the knowledge that he would have to face the enormity of his loss and his sister.
For the first time a thin smile curled Lord Dunstan’s lips, his eyes showing contempt for his victim, utterly unconcerned for the pain he knew he must be feeling, and knowing that in situations such as this it was not uncommon for a man who had staked his entire fortune on a game of cards to go out and shoot himself.
“Rotten luck,” Lord Dunstan said calmly, his voice of a rich, deep timbre, “but that’s how it goes. I think refreshment would be in order now, don’t you? Come, Fraser, what do you say?”
Trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, James rose. “Yes, of course. Please—excuse me a moment,” he said, moving to where Louisa was standing with Timothy, feeling so utterly wretched and miserable that he had forgotten his earlier outrage her presence had caused him, and that normally he would have chastised her most severely for daring to set foot inside such an establishment as this and ordered her home at once.
Lord Dunstan followed him.
“If you wish to try to recoup your losses and exact your revenge, I will give you the opportunity of doing so. Please accept my invitation to Dunstan House on Thursday night. You and Mr Hacket will be more than welcome,” he said, his gaze including Timothy, “and might I suggest you bring your lady friend? The company will be mixed,” he added, his eyes flicking over Louisa without the slightest acknowledgement, which set her blood boiling. She was insulted that he thought her of so little consequence that he had no interest in being properly introduced, which courtesy and good manners demanded when one addressed even the meanest of women. The man was truly a monster.
“Yes, of course. Thank you,” said James, unaware of the murderous look his sister was giving him.
“Oh, but you can’t,” Louisa burst out suddenly, causing James to turn and gape at her in angry surprise, and with a presence of mind she didn’t know she possessed she smiled brightly at all three, using all her feminine wiles as she leaned towards James, coquettish and enticing, and spoke in a flirtatious tone while focusing the full force of her dazzling amber gaze and bewitching smile on her brother with merry defiance. “You are already promised to me that evening, James. You promised to take me to the pleasure gardens across the river, if you remember.”
“I did no such thing,” James said indignantly, giving her an angry, censorious look which she ignored, determined to keep him away from Lord Dunstan and his card games at all costs.
“Yes, you did,” she argued gently. Normally she would not have dared to be so bold or so outspoken, but anger gave her the courage to refuse to feel intimidated by this arrogant, despicable man. Linking her arm possessively through James’s, she gazed up at him languidly from under her thick lashes. “I shall be mortified if you disappoint me and break your word. I am so looking forward to it, as well you know. After neglecting me so abominably all evening, I will not allow you to push me aside yet again for a game of cards which, I observed, you do not seem to possess a talent for and which I consider in such cases is best left alone.”
James was clearly furious, finding his sister making up to him as though she were his doxy quite shocking. He was at a loss to know what to say or how to deal with the situation, and before he could say anything Lord Dunstan had fixed his gaze on Louisa, trying hard to decide if she was genuine in her claim that Fraser had promised to take her to the pleasure gardens or a gifted diplomat.
“One can visit the pleasure gardens any evening, Miss—?”
“Divine,” Louisa said hurriedly, drenching him in her most charming smile, without thinking of the consequences of her fabrication or the connotations of the name she had chosen at random.
“Miss Divine,” he went on, with a slight lift to his sleek eyebrows, his hard face wiped clean of all expression, except for a faint smile in which Louisa caught a glimpse of dazzling white teeth, “whereas invitations to Dunstan House are seldom given and, if they are, are not issued lightly.” He fixed his gaze once more on James. “The invitation stands if you should change your mind.”
He seemed to study Louisa for a moment, his blue eyes levelled on hers, penetrating and disturbing, before inclining his head in the faintest mockery of a bow and moving away. He’d realised the moment he had set eyes on her standing between young Hacket and Charles Meredith that she was the woman he had seen at Vauxhall Gardens and again at St. Paul’s Church two months ago—the woman who had left an indelible trace on him. Clearly she was Fraser’s mistress, and familiar with his own most hated enemy and neighbour, Sir Charles Meredith, but that did not prevent him being curious and wondering about her, wondering how a woman who prayed in church so fervently could live the life she did.
His lips curled in a smile, his mind already working on ways he could get to know her better, undeterred that she might belong to Fraser. His sharp eyes had noticed that Charles Meredith also had designs on her—the signs he recognised from bitter, past experience—and the idea of scoring off him appealed greatly to his sardonic sense of humour, knowing how immensely satisfying it would be to steal her from under Meredith’s nose, to avenge himself for all the villainous acts the man had inflicted on him in the past.
But, on reflection, all such dealings were abhorrent to him. Alistair had many faults, but it was not in his nature to inflict injury or insult on any man who was guilty of wrongdoings against himself, and he wanted nothing more to do with Sir Charles Meredith.
Chapter Two
When Lord Dunstan had moved on, James turned on Louisa, furious with her.
“What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at, Louisa? How dare you humiliate me in this manner? What are you doing here?”
“Do I really have to tell you?” she answered accusingly. Aware that people were beginning to glance their way, becoming curious as to her identity for she was a stranger to them all, she had no intention of airing their grievances in public. “Take me home, James. I do not wish to remain in this place a moment longer.”
James did not need to be asked twice. Timothy chose to stay, hoping to spend the rest of the evening in the company of a wench he had been wooing assiduously for weeks. Besides, he thought that James would be better left alone to be admonished in private by his sister.
Timothy had always admired Louisa—although they had been friends for too long for there ever to be anything of a more intimate nature between them—and he had frequently reproached James for neglecting her for the amusements in London. James had been his closest friend since their school days, and he had often thought it a pity James had not been blessed with his sister’s common sense.
James had felt the lure of the amusements in London soon after his father’s death—his