Page 3 of Until I’m Safe in Your Arms

“That is the wager.” Grandfather’s smile could not have been more evil. The man had managed to hit upon the one way to ensure that all six of his grandsons would agree to those terms. None of them had ever been able to resist a wager. “Each of you must marry within a year from today’s date, August 22, 1860, in order to collectively win the prize.”

“And this prize is…?” Tom had found his voice at last, shaky though it was.

Grandfather gazed around the room slowly, allowing it to rest briefly on each grandson. “A payment of ten thousand pounds each, along with free title to an estate of your choosing—either one of my holdings outside the entail, or any reasonable estate available for purchase—a new carriage, and a new cabriolet.” He paused to stare at Tom until his attention was riveted back on Grandfather. “Including a matched team of four for the carriage.”

Yule and Sandy had ceased to breathe while Grandfather described the stakes of the wager. Of all Alex’s cousins, those two were the most avid gamblers.

“So all we have to do is marry within the year?” Sandy’s eyes had taken on a look of wonder.

“That is correct.” Grandfather continued to look at Tom. “But you all must marry or none of you take the prize. No matter how many of you have already married.”

“Damn.” Francis’s oath slipped out. He shook his head, crestfallen.

“What’s wrong, Francis?” His twin nudged his arm, grinning. “Don’t you think there’s a lady out there who’ll have you, even without a title?”

“More than would have you, Jules, even with a title.” The brothers always disparaged one another, but their deep affection for each other assured the others they spoke only in jest.

“The question is, Tom,” Grandfather turned his gaze back on his youngest grandson, “will you join your cousins, or will you rob them of their chance at happiness and financial security? Apparently, the choice is yours alone.” He glanced around the cluster of eager faces. “I believe everyone else is in.”

Every cousin nodded, their faces turned to stare pointedly at Tom.

“Damnation.” Their youngest cousin ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not fair, I tell you. You all got to sow your wild oats. Why can’t I?”

“Oh, you can sow your oats aplenty for the next year, Tom.” Sandy grinned at him. “You just have to have planted everything you want—and be married—by August 22nd of 1861.” He moved to stand to the right of Tom while Yule flanked him on the left. “You don’t want to be the only man-Jack of us who keeps the others from reaping the benefit of Grandfather’s generosity, do you?”

“Just think how happy you’ll make a dying man if you agree to the wager.” Julius patted Tom’s arm, then squeezed it until the muscle bulged. “Think how unhappy the five of us will be if you don’t.”

“And think, Tom, you’ve got to marry sometime.” Alex downed the rest of his drink and set the glass down. “You might as well make it count for something.” Glancing around the room at his relatives’ hostile faces, he shrugged. “Or the five of us can beat the ever-living tar out of you right now.”

With a disgusted sigh, Tom pulled away from the threatening men surrounding him, went to stand in front of their grandfather, and peered up at the stoic elderly man. “I’ll do it on one condition.”

“And that is?” Grandfather glared down his nose, never a good sign.

“You buy me a ship of my own and finance me for the entire year.” Looking as though he’d never budge an inch, Tom crossed his arms over his chest and met Grandfather’s stare without a qualm. “If I must live all my bachelor days in a single year, by God, I want the ability to go where I please, when I please, and do what I please with whom I please instead of sailing for Father’s company. With a ship of my own, I can captain her as I see fit.”

“Done.”

“What?” Tom looked dumbfounded. “Just like that? Without a shred of hesitation?”

“You thought I wouldn’t assure your participation, my boy?” Grandfather shook his head, smiling all the while. “Tsk, tsk. You don’t know me at all, do you, Tom?”

“Apparently not.” Grumpy now he was trapped, Tom stalked over to the sideboard and poured himself another sizeable brandy. He tossed it down his throat then wiped his hand across his mouth. “I’ll expect the ship within the month.”

“Not unreasonable.” Grandfather followed Tom and held out his glass. “I’ll throw in the crew to boot.”

“Damn right.” Tom threw his glass into the fireplace, making the sparks fly, then poured a drink for his grandfather. “I’ll be at my club until the ship is mine.”

“Don’t be angry, Tom.” Alex draped his arm across his cousin’s shoulder. “Just think of all the women you’ll seduce with that sleek ship.” He kissed his bunched fingers. “A veritable floating buffet of romance. And all yours—for a whole year.”

“So it seems,” Tom growled. “At least we can have a wager who’ll be the first one wed.” He gazed appraisingly at Alex. “You’re the eldest, Alex. It should be you.”

“I’ll take that action.” Yule stepped up to Julius. “Put me down for a hundred pounds that Alex is the first of us to marry.”

“Done.” Julius pulled a small, thick, black book and pencil from his inner jacket pocket and rifled through the pages. He turned to a new one, wrote down Marriage Wagers, then First Wed. “So, who wants some more of that wager?”

“I do.” Alex pulled a small tablet out of his breast pocket, tore out a sheet, and scribbled on it. “There.” He handed the sheet with his signature, a number, and the letters IOU on it. “If I’m to be a sacrificial lamb, I want to make something out of it to boot. Put me down to be married first and by the end of the month.”

“But it’s already the 22nd, Alex.” Tom stared up at him, poleaxed. “How are you going to find a woman and get her to agree to marry you in less than ten days?”