Chapter Two

The day before.

“No.” Graham succinctly enunciated the word once more, just in case his hoyden of an older sister, who had some misbegotten notion that she was his mother, hadn’t understood the first three times he’d answered her question.

“You don’t have a choice, Edward.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No. You clearly don’t understand.”

“I understand completely. I’m supposed to feel obligated to attend some chit’s debut simply because you have a soft spot for the poor thing.” He shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “I’m not daft, Dianna. You’re on some forsaken, misbegotten, bloody mission to marry me off, and I’m not going to do it!”

“You don’t remember.” His sister, the meddlesome Lady Southridge, shook her head in startled amazement.

“Why should I remember? All you said was that someone named Betsy is having a ball, and I was expected there at eight sharp. What part of that conversation was supposed to be familiar?” he asked. He gestured impatiently to her, awaiting an answer.

“For heaven’s sake, it’s Bethanny, and Bethanny is Clairmont’s ward!” She all but shouted, clearly aggravated. Of course, that was the dynamic of their relationship most times.

Loud and confusing.

It was moments like these he was exceedingly thankful for his estate near Edinburgh, for it provided the perfect escape.

From his sister.

“Clairmont’s ward?” Graham furrowed his brow in confusion. “Why didn’t you say so? Of course I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I did say so. I simply assumed you to be intelligent enough to remember the poor girl’s name. Believe me, I’ll not give you so much credit next time, Edward.”

“Hilarious, Dianna.” He gave her a sarcastic expression, one he had often used toward her, even as a young lad.

“I wasn’t teasing.” She raised a daring eyebrow.

“Hurt, deeply.” He rolled his eyes and flopped into a chair, earning a glare from his sister at his poor manners.

He propped his foot up on the table just to spite her further.

“If you had been here for more than a day or so in the past two years, you would have known exactly who I was speaking about when I said her name, but no. You’ve been gallivanting to Italy, Scotland, and heaven knows where else.”

“I’ve been avoiding you actually.” He shrugged.

“Edward!”

“Joking, er, mostly.”

His sister placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.

He smirked, enjoying the sensation of provoking exactly the response he desired. “You know I had business to attend to.”

“So why come back now?” she asked, and, honestly, he was surprised it had taken her as long as it had to ask that very specific question. Usually she was like an investigator at Scotland Yard. Though, he had only been back for a week and, well, he hadn’t exactly told her he was in town until two days ago.

Though he’d assumed she’d already known he was in town. The woman had spies.

“Now that all my estate business is thoroughly established for the next generation of Grahams, I’ve decided it’s time to marry.” He leaned back, watching her expression with keen interest.

Her eyes widened then narrowed. Shaking her head, she shrugged. “No, honestly. Why?” His sister made a dismissive gesture with her hand, one that said, Quit wasting my time and give me the real answer.

“Er, I actually am.” He felt chagrined. Was he that hopeless of a cause in his own sister’s eyes?

“You are?” She blinked in disbelief.

“Indeed.” He nodded once.

“It’s about bloody time.” Dianna stood and strode toward him, her eyes glancing heavenward as she mouthed a prayer. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Her eyes were glossy as she looked back to him. Was she crying? He stood up, confused.

Without hesitation, she pulled him into an embrace.

He heard her sniffle.

She was crying.

Bloody hell, he didn’t realize he was that much of a lost cause.

“I, er, well.” He patted her back awkwardly.

She took a deep breath and leaned back, her eyes glistening.

“It’s wonderful! And I have the most perfect girl in mind—”

“No.” No, no, no, no!

“What?”

“No. Dianna, listen to me. In fact, repeat after me everything that I’m going to say to you. Are you ready?” He reached down and grasped her hands, leaning forward till he was convinced he had her attention.

Her eyes narrowed, which he considered a yes.

“You are not to meddle.” He waited then raised an eyebrow, lowering his chin while he speared her with a patient glare.

“You are not to meddle,” she spoke through clenched teeth.

“Mature. You, as in… you. Try again.”

“I am not to meddle,” she repeated, though her cheeks were bright red and her teeth were still clenched.

“I knew you were smarter than they all claimed.”

“Edward,” she ground out.

“I, Edward, am the one who will be selecting the bride. Not you.”

“I—” she began, intending to mock him.

“Dianna…”

“Very well. You are getting married. You’ll pick the bride.”

“Thank you. Was that so difficult?” He released her hands.

“Yes. In fact, I believe I’ll rest all afternoon from the exertion of this very conversation.” She rolled her eyes and backed away.

“Brilliant. I’ll have the afternoon to myself.”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Once you visited yesterday, I told the duchess and Bethanny of your arrival, and they immediately asked if you would attend the debut—”

“Which I’ve already agreed to, so I’m not seein—”

“The point? Well, that’s because you’re interrupting me—”

“I’m not—”

His sister raised an eyebrow and waited.

He closed his mouth.

“Thank you. It would seem that your friend, Clairmont, is not dealing well with Bethanny’s debut. His experience being of the darker variety, I imagine he’s conjured up all sorts of evil men lurking in the corners having nefarious schemes.” She shook her head.

“Clairmont?” he asked, just to make sure they were talking about the same person. He had kept in contact with his good friend but hadn’t seen much of him since his marriage. Graham’s travels kept him busy, and… well, he assumed Clairmont was busy with other… er… things.

“Yes… he’s quite overprotective of the girls. And Bethanny, she’s sure to attract the attention of all.” His sister grinned, a strange expression lighting her gaze.

“How so?” he asked, curious and slightly concerned over his sister’s expression.

He furrowed his brow as he thought about the slight-framed girl he remembered. Bethanny. Miss Lamont. Her eyes had taken up most of her face, deep brown and soulful, and far older and wiser than her young frame. There was nothing significant about her, save the eyes. She was thin, too thin, and had the figure of a boy rather than girl.

Poor thing. Clairmont was probably afraid he’d never find her a match.

She paused then tilted her head ever so slightly. “Never mind. The truth is that Carlotta rather thought that her husband might welcome your company to distract him from the stressful situation.”

“Oh, was that it?” he asked, though he was sure he already knew.

“Yes.”

“Not a problem. When did you say the debut was?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Perfect. I’ll stop by today and help the old man forget about his blossoming wards.” He bowed.

His sister choked.

“Er, what?” he asked, confused.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” She snickered, her eyes now dancing with some mysterious mirth.

But he never had understood his sister and didn’t pretend to now. The truth was, he didn’t really care either.

So, with a shrug and a bow to his sister, he quit the Southridge residence and made his way to Mayfair to catch up with his longtime friend, the Duke of Clairmont.