A Countess by Chance(6)

As a single, unattached peer with wealth and connections, Adam had the distinction of being the most sought-after bachelor in London, and in the country as well, it would seem.

“Perhaps I’ll shock them all and marry a simple country woman.” Just as the words left his mouth, it occurred to him that Olivia fit that description to perfection.

James snorted. “Who are you fooling? One of these ladies will have you shackled before you can blink twice. My money is on Miss Wood. She’s tenacious, that one, and not without a reckless streak. She’ll do what it takes to get you to the finish line.”

Adam tilted his head back and released a heavy breath. How had they gotten around to Miss Wood again? “Tell me about your wife’s cousin, Miss Dewhurst. What is her situation?”

Two years ago she’d jilted him for a wealthier prospect. The bet today had him wondering. Was she in dire straits? Was that why she’d proposed the wager? Did she intend to entrap him?

James shook his head. “Don’t trudge down that road, my man. Women aren’t creatures to be trusted, mark my words. They will scheme and cajole to get what they want. And those tears, my God, were sent from the very devil to destroy us.”

“The scheme is mine, I’m afraid. Miss Dewhurst and I made a wager and I won. The prize is her virtue.”

James’s eyebrows rose in astonishment. For a moment, there were no words, and Adam regretted mentioning it at all. Who admitted to one’s own depraved character—and to a friend, no less?

“By God, man.” James reached over the small table between them and clapped him on the shoulder, swishing brandy over the lip of Adam’s glass. “You clever old dog.”

Adam lifted a brow.

“How I envy you. All the fun without any of the troublesome commitments—if only I’d been as clever. Miss Dewhurst,” he said with a whistle. “She’s quite the beauty. I wouldn’t mind—”

“All right,” Adam growled, effectively cutting off that unsavory image. “What the hell do I do? I can’t very well follow through with it.”

“Why the hell not?”

Adam stared at his friend. “You are a degenerate, James, do you know that? She is your wife’s cousin. I believe it’s your duty to defend her honor, or at the very least, feign an interest in it.”

Since there were no women in his life, Adam hadn’t any idea what the rules dictated on that score. He’d defend his mother, certainly, but she’d died while he was still in leading strings. One thing was certain, if he had a woman like Olivia under his protection, her pretty little arse would never leave his sight.

“My outrage extends to daughters, sisters and mothers, alone. Cousins aren’t in that class and are therefore welcome to tup anyone they please.” He smiled. “Besides, you couldn’t possibly believe she’s the genuine article. Even you aren’t fool enough to fall for that nonsense.”

Adam set his glass down on the table and leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowed. “What the hell do you mean by that? Why wouldn’t she be?”

James sighed heavily and hoisted himself out of his chair, then rummaged around his desk for an inordinate amount of time. After opening several drawers and spilling an inkwell, he came upon whatever it was he was looking for, at the bottom of a pile of papers on his desk. He lowered himself back into his chair and slapped the paper into Adam’s lap. “Read it and weep, my man. Schemers, the lot of them, I’m telling you.”

His eyes quickly scanned the scandal sheet James had thrust at him. A caricature was prominent in the center of the page. A woman in a curricle, her skirts hiked up to her knees, straddled a gentleman as he fought off a swarm of bees. Along the bottom, in bold letters, the caption read: “Ms. D—offers her favors to the dashing Earl of W—on a morning ride through Hyde park. Who will prevail, our persistent Miss D—or the unrelenting bees?”

Something cold and hollow struck Adam’s chest. Had she given herself to that fop Whitmore before his unfortunate encounter with the bees? No, it was preposterous, surely.

Adam balled up the newssheet and tossed it into the fire. “It’s a blasted scandal sheet. None of it is true.”

James shrugged. “You can’t be certain. She had nothing to bring to the match, except, well…what she was given naturally. And if she’s already been tried…” James shrugged. “Then there’s no need to wrestle with your conscience. You need only discover the truth, simple as that.”

Adam glanced sharply at James. “And how exactly do you propose I do that?”