Wedding Wagers(11)

Mr. Creasey grinned. "If only I could find a girl so pretty."

"Pretty isn't vital. Your friend Mr. Morton seems to have formed an attachment with Miss Harris."

Mr. Creasey let out a snort. "A pretty dowry can make up for an ugly face, I suppose."

Phillip stiffened at the unflattering way to describe a young lady.  Still, he persisted in his goal. "Her dowry is the only thing he likes  about her, I presume?"

A shrug came in reply.

"As a friend, doesn't he tell you?"

"Not really."

Which was probably true. Not every male freely discussed his intentions  about young ladies with friends the way Phillip did with Michael. "Is he  courting anyone else?"

"Presently? No. He tried to court Miss Vivian Charleston-looks and dowry-but she is toying with two others."

A pity. "He dodged a bullet with Miss Charleston," Phillip stated.

"Probably. Beautiful, though," he said wistfully.

Phillip had no interest in shallow women such as Vivian Charleston. He  glanced at Miss Brown raptly listening to the housekeeper speaking about  a group of paintings of the fox hunt. Miss Brown murmured something to  Miss Harris, and they both giggled behind their fans. One day, Meredith  Brown would smile and laugh with him the way she did with others.

Phillip returned his focus to his objective. "Was there anyone else?"

"Oh, sure. He always courts girls with big dowries, but they always choose someone else. Unlucky in love, I suppose."

Phillip paused. "He only courts girls with large dowries?"

"He's a third son with a meager income. What else can he do?"

"I see your point." Many gentlemen in his position sought ladies with  dowries. It didn't make them mercenaries. Surely some chose carefully  and let their hearts guide them to select a bride. "Has he proposed to  anyone but Miss Harris?"

Mr. Creasy shrugged. "Two or three, I think. Turned him down."

Phillip winced. That was a condemning bit of news. "He is unlucky in  love." So as not to appear to be so single-minded about the reason he  had struck up a conversation with Mr. Creasey, Phillip asked, "Are you  courting anyone?"

After they chatted about young ladies and parties, Phillip steered the conversation to other interests.

Eventually, Phillip bade farewell to the informative Mr. Creasey and  moved back to Miss Brown's side. Upon completing the tour, they thanked  the housekeeper and returned to their carriage. The rain had stopped,  and even a few rays of sunlight shone as they drove to Gunter's for some  ice and then took the ladies home.

As he handed down the ladies from the landau, Phillip said in a low  voice, "I have information that may interest you, Miss Brown. May I take  you for a carriage ride tomorrow at the park for the promenade?"         

     



 

She searched his eyes, whether to determine what he had learned by his  expression or if he did, indeed, have noteworthy news, he could not  guess. That mix of vulnerability and guardedness entered her eyes. It  was all he could do not to touch her face.

Finally, inclined her head. "I would be delighted."

He bowed and watched her enter the house with her cousin. A split second  before she disappeared inside, she glanced back at him. He smiled,  making sure his dimple showed. She hurriedly closed the door. Grinning,  he returned to the landau.

"She still doesn't like you," Michael grumbled.

"She's putting up a fence, but I'm getting to her. You'll see. She agreed to go driving with me tomorrow."

"You should toughen up your hands so you can shovel horse manure in my  stables without getting blisters. I plan to have a crowd watch, you  know."

"You'd best fit a saddle to a mule," Phillip shot back. "You'll be riding one in Hyde Park."

Michael laughed, and Phillip grinned. Wager or no wager, Phillip would  win over the lovely and complex Meredith Harris one way or another.





Meredith paced in the drawing room. She really ought not subject herself  to more of Mr. Partridge's tempting companionship. He seemed so  genuine, so kind, but she knew all too well how people's true character  revealed itself later, after it was too late to spare a broken heart and  ruined reputation. On the other hand, she must converse with Mr.  Partridge at least once more to learn what he had discovered about Miss  Harris's suitor.

The cowardly side of her begged her to send Annabel to question him,  thus sparing Meredith from having to see him again, especially in such  close proximity as a carriage.

Entering, Annabel smiled at Meredith. "You look so pretty, Merry. Just like a spring morning."

Meredith ran a hand over her favorite lilac pelisse. "I almost wore the  old faded one from yesterday, but I didn't want to shame Aunt and Uncle  by appearing in such a public place as the promenade at Hyde Park in  something so shabby. People might think my guardians aren't providing  for me."

"That's wise. I'm surprised you went through with it at the Tarringtons' yesterday."

Aunt Paulette entered the room and stopped short when she saw Meredith.  She clasped her hands together. "Praise the Lord; you have finally  decided to dress pretty for him."

Meredith almost stomped her feet. "I'm not dressing for him, Aunt. I am  only going with him today because he has news about Miss Harris's  suitor."

Aunt came near and looked her in the eye. "My dear, I understand your  hesitation, but I have asked a number of people about him-about his  character-and they all assure me he has an excellent reputation. He has  never been known to be a libertine or a rake and has no need of dowry.  Everyone says he is nearly the paragon his brother is."

"No one knew anything bad about Mr. Todd either," she grumbled.

"No one knew Mr. Todd. He was a stranger. Phillip Partridge is well known in London."

Meredith hesitated. "If he is such a paragon, what is he doing with me?"

"He fancies you."

"How can he fancy someone so far outside his class? That doesn't make sense."

"Love doesn't always make sense."

"Love. Ha!" Meredith picked at a loose thread on her glove.

The front door knocker clanged, and Meredith jumped. She sent a panicked look at Annabel. "He's here."

Her cousin put her hands on both of Meredith's arms. "It's only a ride  and a conversation. If you choose not to spend another moment with him,  that is your right."

Aunt added, "You may certainly refuse him, duke's brother or no."

Meredith nodded and swallowed. As long as she kept a tight rein on her heart, she had nothing to fear.

The butler announced him, and Mr. Partridge entered. A little nervous  flutter began in the center of Meredith's chest. Dressed in a plum  tailcoat with a gray and white brocade waistcoat and buff breeches, his  boots shining like a mirror, he might have stepped out of a fashion  magazine. Most men lacked his perfect proportions of height, leanness,  and breadth of shoulders. None came close to matching the manly beauty  of his face.

He removed his beaver hat, revealing his thick, dark hair with that  unusual light streak adorning it. Softly, and with almost-believable  affection, he smiled, an action that transformed him into the most  handsome man she'd ever seen. Then that dimple appeared, and she  momentarily lost control of her heart.

She must not. A highborn gentleman such as Phillip Partridge wanted  something from a lowborn lady other than an innocent courtship. She must  not forget that. Between his rank, wealth, and stunning good looks, he  was accustomed to having whatever he desired.         

     



 

When he greeted all of them in turn, she curtsied. "Mr. Partridge."

"Miss Brown, how wonderful to see you again. You are as lovely as a picture."

She inclined her head. "How kind of you," she said coolly. At least, she meant it to be cool. Instead, it came out breathy.

Annabel curtsied in greeting. "Have a care with my cousin." The angle of  her smile revealed a friendly warning. "She is my dearest friend in all  the world."

The smile left his face, replaced by an earnestness that almost pled to  be believed. "I vow it, Miss Stafford." He turned to Aunt Paulette to  include her. "I vow it."

Either he had perfected his skills as a deceiver, or he spoke with  sincerity. Time would reveal his true intentions. Meanwhile, Meredith  would proceed with caution. In fact, if she played her hand right, she  might catch him in his own game.

He escorted her to his carriage outside. A boy wearing the striped  waistcoat of a tiger held the reins of two matched bays, almost as alike  in coloring as in size, harnessed to a shining curricle.

Meredith gestured to the horses. "Lovely cattle you have there."

He grinned. "Aren't they beauties? I bought them from Michael Cavenleigh. His family breeds them, you know."

"I didn't realize that."

"Many of the best stock out of Tattersall's are from Cavenleigh  Stables." He handed her up, holding her with the right amount of power  and gentleness, which might be a sign of his skill as a seducer as well.  She would not fall prey to his charms! Still, she could play along; he  might reveal his hand sooner. The tiger clambered up to the small seat  behind them.