Page 4 of How to Best a Marquess

To Hugh’s surprise, it was the countess who spoke. “We have considered both of you and have decided to see who would prove the ‘best man’ for the club. For one month, you will both run the Raven Club. Whoever is most successful will have the establishment. If Ellie wins, she will have the freedom to manage it with Brooks’s aid. If Lord Deveril wins, then our solicitors will draw up purchase papers. Your endeavors will be recorded in separate ledgers.”

“You think to hold a competition?” Ellie asked in surprise. “That’s ludicrous!”

For the first time, Hugh was in agreement with Ellie Swift. He found it hard to believe the earl and countess would even consider such an idea. One look at Castleton’s tense expression and Hugh knew it was the countess who had convinced the man to agree to a competition.

Fine. Hugh’s gut tightened with a conviction. He’d always been soft where Ellie was concerned. But not in this. It was for her own good.

He would win.

“I accept,” Hugh said.

…

As soon as Hugh left, Ellie faced Ian with fists clenched at her sides.

“How could you do this?” she demanded as indignation swamped her. “You are my brother.”

“I wanted to say no. I still do. Grace convinced me otherwise,” Ian said.

Again, Grace placed a hand on her husband’s sleeve. The effect was remarkable. Ian calmed and smiled down at his pregnant wife.

A knot twisted inside Ellie. Once, she thought she’d found a man who had adored her as much as her brother loved her sister-in-law.

That man had been Hugh Vere, now known as the Marquess of Deveril. She’d dubbed him the devil marquess, for certainly that was an apt name.

What a fool she’d been. Only eighteen, she’d just had her debut into Society and attended her first ball. She’d met an equally young and handsome Hugh, second son to the Marquess of Deveril. He hadn’t minded her red hair, freckles, or her love of books. They’d been drawn to each other and had quickly fallen in love.

Or rather, she’d fallen madly in love with him.

“You know about our past,” Ellie said.

Her brother and sister-in-law knew most, not all. She could never confess every humiliating moment. She’d cried in private for over a year. Her younger sister, Olivia, had attempted to comfort her during many dark and lonely nights, but Ellie had wept until she’d been exhausted and fallen into a restless sleep. Even Ian and Grace had tried to cheer her on more than one trip to Gunter’s for ices but had been unable to pull Ellie out of her melancholy.

It had taken years to harden her heart.

“You are no longer eighteen. You’ve rejected suitor after suitor ever since,” Ian said.

“I will only marry for love. Just like you with Grace.”

It was an excuse. She didn’t want to marry. She wanted to run the Raven Club and become an independent woman. Only then could she continue to use her good fortune to help others—women who were at the mercy of men who were sworn to protect and cherish them, not hurt them. If she ever chose a husband, then she preferred one who could be easily managed and fooled, who would never be a risk to her heart.

“I support your decision to choose your own husband, but not in this.” Her brother waved his hand to the window overlooking the casino floor. “This is no life for a young lady.”

Grace cleared her throat. “Contrary to my husband’s opinion, I do believe a woman has what it takes to run the Raven Club.”

“I knew you would take my side,” Ellie said, hope lifting her spirits.

Grace was talented with figures and took over the bookkeeping soon after she’d wed Ian. She’d also been teaching Ellie, who much preferred numbers and books over balls and dandies.

And rogues like Hugh.

She’d heard rumors of him in the ladies’ retiring room since his return from the army and his ascension to the title. He rarely attended the same events she did, so she hadn’t seen him. But his reputation for scandal preceded him. Widows. Actresses. Dancers. The salacious rumors had confirmed everything he’d done to her.

Grace shook her head. “I haven’t taken anyone’s side yet. But Ian and I have reached a compromise. A test, if you prefer. Whoever is most successful in one month’s time shall have the Raven.”

“You would choose Deveril over your own flesh and blood?”

Ian let out a puff of air. “Cease the dramatics, Ellie. This is business. If not for my wife’s urging, I would have had my solicitor draw up the papers a week ago. Now do you accept or not?”

“Fine,” Ellie snapped. “I accept.”