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Since they’d been children, Dane had always had the clearer head. Rathmore, as a duke, had the world at his fingertips and yet, his heart often allowed emotion to sway his decisions. He’d needed Dane to use reason and judgment to help him out of several scrapes, and this one was likely no exception.
“You’re always so cynical.” Charlie tapped her fan on his knee.
He crossed his arms staring at his sister. “Or perhaps I am intelligent. Let’s play a game…”
Charlie wrinkled her nose. “Your games are never fun.”
He ignored his sister’s barb. “Which is more likely?” He sensed that his sister was also anxious to find love, though she’d had plenty of opportunity the previous season. She was assuredly painting Rathmore’s situation with her own wishes. “That Rathmore, a young, handsome, eligible duke had a sudden and immediate change of heart, where a determined bachelor has suddenly decided to marry, after meeting a woman or—” He held up a finger. “That a lady, upon meeting the young, handsome, eligible duke, decided that he was excellent husband material and set a quick and effective trap.”
Charlie huffed, leaning back in her seat, her arms crossing in a mirror image of his. “While I must admit, the timeline is very quick—”
“Precisely,” he responded, straightening his shoulders triumphantly.
“I won’t go into this meeting with such doubts.” She leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she gave him a long stare. “This woman, whoever she is, is going to be our family, Dane. Do not make a bad first impression when we see our cousin’s fiancée.”
He didn’t reply as he glared back at his sister. Despite Charlie’s warning, he knew she was wrong. This woman wouldn’t be his family if he had anything to say about it. He’d pulled Rathmore out of more than one romantic scrape and he’d have to do so again this time. Their parents had died on a Channel crossing ten years prior. Since then, they’d been each other’s family and Dane would risk his life for his cousin. Chase Rathmore was his brother at heart and he’d do almost anything for him. Certainly, he’d investigate one marriage-minded miss.
His thoughts drifted back to a few years earlier when Rathmore had taken a mistress. The woman had declared herself enceinte and convinced Rathmore to marry her. Dane had stepped in and required Rathmore to wait three months. Within two weeks the woman had bled. She’d been forced to admit she’d lied about being with child. If Chase hadn’t heeded his warning, he’d have been married before he’d discovered the truth.
Dane would see his cousin safe again this time.
The carriage pulled into a drive and Dane shifted his gaze from the lovely ocean scene to the large stone house that stood high on a hill. Well, he had to admit one fact: the home of the Moorish family was lovely. Rows of balconies peeked out from thick ivy and beautifully maintained gardens. The sweeping steps drew visitors toward the grand front door.
As they made their way up the drive, a crowd of people stood in a line to greet them. As he drew near, he recognized several of the men. His cousin, of course, wearing a bright grin. But near him were two other lords he recognized from London. The Earl of Crestwood and the Baron of Craven. What in the bloody bullocks was happening here? He knew both the men were complete rogues who’d also been bound for Balstead’s party. Why were they here?
The carriage rolled to a stop and the footman snapped open the door. He climbed out, handing Charlie down.
“Welcome to Moorish Manor.” An elderly man stepped forward, sweeping his arms wide.
Dane had to confess that he was a likable sort with kind eyes behind his spectacles. If he were honest, the man didn’t look like a conspirator, but then again, looks could be deceiving. The woman Dane had nearly married had looked and acted completely innocent but it had turned out that act had been the appropriate word to describe her. Their entire relationship had been a complete fiction.
Dane gave a short bow, his fists clenching at his sides.
Rathmore stepped forward. “May I present my cousin, the Marquess of Hartwell, and his sister, Lady Charlotte Summerset.”
“A pleasure.” Mr. Moorish swept into deep bow. “I am honored to have you at my home. These are my daughters.” The man gestured toward the crowd of women. “Please come inside where you’ll be more comfortable. The sun is growing quite warm already, is it not?”
Charlie stepped forward. “The sunshine feels wonderful to me, but I am excited to see your home. Thank you so much for hosting us. What a pleasure.”
Dane tried not to roll his eyes. The older man might look kind but for all Dane knew he was the very person who’d actuall
y trapped his cousin. He refused to waver, knowing he’d have to keep his wits about him.
It was time for Dane to start getting some answers.
* * *
Juliet stared at the marquess who’d arrived at her door and pursed her lips. She didn’t like him.
He was handsome enough with his sandy hair and chocolate brown eyes. And he had the sort of broad shoulders that might make another girl swoon but his face was set in stern, serious lines. His mouth was marked with a slight frown and his eyes crinkled in disapproval as he stared down the line of her family.
Judgment rolled off him in waves and her own skin bristled in response. How dare he make assumptions about the people she loved?
The group started for the front door. Her sister, Adrianna, took the arm of her fiancé, the Earl of Crestwood, while Bianca paired off with her soon-to-be husband, the Baron of Craven. Juliet tried not to sigh as her only other single sister, Cordelia, stepped up next to her. “The marquess is handsome,” Cordelia whispered, leaning close to Juliet’s ear.
Juliet scowled as she looked ahead. Ophelia had linked her arm with Lady Charlotte’s and they walked ahead while Rathmore spoke with his cousin, Hartwell. The marquess’s profile was in her view and his frown grew more pronounced, slicing his hand through the air. “He is handsome,” she said, looking for an excuse to eavesdrop. “Let’s move closer.”
In truth, she didn’t give a fig about his looks, but she did care to hear what he might be saying. Juliet had worked rather hard to throw Ophelia and Rathmore together and she fancied herself a bit of a matchmaker. Was the annoying marquess attempting to undo her hard work? That would explain all the contempt he displayed.
