The Heiress Read online

  "Yes, well, but she hasn't written us since leaving, has she?" Suzette pointed out gently.

  "I'm sure the letters were just lost," Lisa said at once.

  "Or Dicky won't let her write us," Suzette murmured, biting her lip.

  Lisa frowned, but then said reluctantly, "I suppose he could have. Father did say Robert claims Dicky treats Chrissy awful."

  "Exactly." Suzette frowned and shook her head with bewilderment. "It is so hard to believe. It has only been a year and he was so charming and loving when he courted her." In truth, the man had been the perfect romantic hero, sweeping in to save them from ruin, professing undying love for Christiana and courting her with such verve and charm that all three girls had been half in love with him.

  "Robert wouldn't lie," Lisa pointed out unhappily.

  "No," she agreed with a sigh. "Which means all that charm and verve he showed in courting Chrissy was probably for show, to bait the trap and get her to fall in love with and marry him."

  "Why?" Lisa asked with a frown.

  "What else? The dower," Suzette said dryly. "If he didn't truly love her that could be the only reason to want to marry her."

  "But no one knows about our dowers," Lisa said at once. "Grandfather insisted on it so we could avoid fortune seekers."

  "Well, Dicky must have found out," Suzette said reasonably. "Besides, nothing is ever a secret. You know that. Servants talk and secrets get out."

  "I suppose," Lisa said reluctantly. She grimaced. "And it was all rather sudden, a whirlwind really. It was only a couple of weeks between when father came home with the news of our impending ruin and Christiana and Dicky's wedding. I suppose Dicky could have pretended his adoration for a couple of weeks."

  "Yes, he could have," Suzette agreed grimly.

  "What if you are stuck with a bad husband too?" Lisa asked unhappily.

  Suzette felt her lips tighten. There was little chance to meet a man she could love and be sure loved her in two weeks, and she was damned if she was going to spend her life being treated shabbily by her own husband. So she wouldn't look for love, Suzette decided and announced, "I shall look for a husband I can control, or at least one I can insure won't control me."

  "How?" Lisa asked uncertainly.

  "I shall find a husband who needs coin," Suzette said grimly. "One land rich and desperate enough for money to run that land that he'll agree to a marriage contract that allows me half my dower and the right to live my own life."

  "Oh, that's--" Lisa paused and glanced out the window as the carriage jerked forward and they set off. She then glanced back to Suzette and asked uncertainly, "Is that even possible?"

  "If we both agree to it," Suzette said, but wasn't as certain as she tried to sound. The only thing she was certain of was that she was going to do her damnedest to achieve that end.

  Chapter One

  "What is taking so long?"

  Daniel Woodrow raised his eyebrows at his friend's impatient words. It was rare to see Richard Fairgrave, the Earl of Radnor, so impatient, but then the situation was a rare one indeed. In fact, he suspected it was a one of a kind situation. Certainly, Daniel had never before heard of a set of events that would lead to a man confronting himself over his own murder.

  A wry smile curved Daniel's lips at the thought. It wasn't really an accurate description of what was about to occur, but it was how every single person attending the ball would see it. As far as society knew, a year ago George Fairgrave, the younger twin by a matter of moments to Richard Fairgrave, the Earl of Radnor, had died in a tragic fire. However, George hadn't died. It was Richard who had been meant to die in the fire, one George himself had arranged so that he could take Richard's place in the world and claim his title and wealth. But even Richard hadn't died that night. He had managed to bribe his would-be killers into letting him live and had instead landed in America, penniless, half starved and near death, but alive. Richard had recovered slowly with the aid of kind homesteaders, and then sent a letter to Daniel requesting his help in returning to England and regaining his title and position.

  Daniel supposed Richard had sent him the letter because any of their other friends might, understandably, have ignored his warnings not to approach the man parading as Richard Fairgrave to verify the situation. But then most of those men did not have a secret like he had, one that Richard knew and had mentioned in his letter. At least Daniel didn't think they did. Whatever the case, he had known at once that it was Richard's hand writing the letter, and had wasted no time booking a ship to America to find and bring back the man.

  "What the devil is the holdup?" Richard fretted again, looking ready to bolt from the carriage and walk the rest of the way to their destination.

  "The Landons' ball is the first of the season. Everyone attends it, so the lineup of carriages with passengers waiting to disembark gets long," Daniel pointed out. Hoping to calm him, he leaned out the window to inspect the number of carriages remaining before they would be able to disembark, and sighed his relief as he sat back in his seat again. "There are only two carriages left ahead of us. We shall be able to alight presently."

  Richard grunted at this news, but rather than relax, tensed even further and muttered, "I am counting on you to keep me from killing my bastard brother before he confesses all."

  "Of course," Daniel said solemnly, not doubting for a moment that Richard was struggling with the desire to pummel the man on sight. Certainly, George deserved it for what he'd done. However, killing him before he confessed all and Richard was assured of regaining his title and position again would not be good. It was why they'd decided to have the confrontation here at possibly the best-attended ball of the season. They needed to startle George into a confession and with as many witnesses as possible. Fortunately, they'd arrived in time to attend it, barely. The ship they'd returned on from America had only set anchor that morning and then they'd had to arrange for the appropriate clothes for both of them to attend.

  "Finally."

  Richard's heartfelt murmur drew Daniel's attention to the fact that they were now pulling up in front of Landon House. The other man waited just long enough for the carriage to roll to a halt, but could restrain himself no further and immediately opened the carriage door and burst out before it could be opened for them. Daniel followed, offering an apologetic nod to the footman Richard had nearly trampled in his hurry to escape, then rushed after his friend.

  Once inside the house, there was a line of people all awaiting their turn to be announced. Daniel wasn't terribly surprised when Richard bypassed the line and walked alongside it to the ballroom entry. Richard had no desire to be announced. They could hardly take George by surprise if the man heard the announcement of the name he'd usurped and been using this last year, and their plan depended on being right in front of the imposter when he realized Richard was not dead and his grand scheme was about to collapse on his head. Bypassing the line, however, stirred a sudden rush of whispers from those waiting. It also caused the servant announcing arrivals to stutter in surprise as Richard and Daniel sailed past. That didn't slow either man, however, and they jogged quickly down the short stairs to the ballroom floor before stopping to survey the crowds in search of one George Cainan Fairgrave, imposter to the Radnor earldom and attempted murderer.

  "The Landons always throw a successful ball, and I'd say this is one too, wouldn't you?"

  Suzette forced her gaze back to her dance partner and managed a polite smile and nod. She then turned her head away again, unable to bear the man's breath any longer than that. Really, this entire night was turning out to be very disappointing, and she was beginning to think she'd severely misjudged the situation. Suzette supposed she'd allowed her imagination to carry her away. She'd imagined Christiana and Lisa ferreting out a dozen or so handsome, honorable and charming young men who were perfect in every way except that they were in dire straits financially. She'd imagined each of these men then vying for her hand, eager to woo her and happily accepting both herself
and a large dower in exchange for allowing her access to a portion of the dower and the freedom to lead her own life.

  She'd been an idiot, obviously, Suzette acknowledged. First of all, women were not allowed to approach the men. The woman was to await the men approaching her. The man would ask to be introduced, request a quadrille or what have you, the lady would then put him down on the dance card and dance each scheduled dance with the man on her card. They had, of course, been forced to work within these strictures, Suzette accepting every invitation, entering the name on her card and then handing it over to Christiana and Lisa while she was dancing so that they could get the gossip on each man on the card. As each man then came to claim her for his allotted dance, Suzette would glance to Lisa and Christiana, who would give her the signals they'd agreed on to let her know if the gentleman in question was an eligible bachelor with a title and/or land, but in need of funds to shore them up.

  So far, Suzette had done very well by some standards. Certainly, her dance card was full and she had done little but dance all night. Unfortunately, it seemed that while there were plenty of handsome and charming young men willing to dance with her, few of them filled her requirements of needing a wealthy wife. And those few who did, were not attractive, honorable and charming young men. So far, only one had been anywhere near young.

  The first man Lisa had signaled needed a wealthy bride had been older than her father; round and pasty faced. He'd spent their entire dance complaining about his gout while leering at her breasts through her gown. The second prospect had been younger, but he'd been tall, alarmingly thin and had actually asked to check her teeth as if she were a horse at auction, and that without her stating that she was in the market for a husband. The third had been the young one, but he had been far too young. In fact, she suspected he wasn't more than sixteen though he'd claimed to be older. His face had been spotty and he'd had the distressing habit of picking at it as he'd talked to her before and after their dance. Though, he hadn't really talked so much as stuttered out his desire to dance with her.

  Now she was dancing with Lord Willthrop, who, while a little younger than her father, also had a hook nose that appeared to cause him some trouble since he was constantly sniffing. He also had terrible breath and a very pompous attitude.

  Suzette was beginning to despair that her plan was doomed. For she'd happily embrace scandal and ruination before she'd embrace any of the men she'd so far encountered. Of course, she didn't really have that option, because it wouldn't just be herself cast into scandal if she failed to find a husband and claim her dower. Her father would as well, though it was little more than he deserved for bringing this down upon them all, but so would her little sister Lisa and--married or not--Christiana as well would suffer. Suzette couldn't allow that to happen if she could prevent it.

  She grimaced at the thought, and then sighed with relief as the dance finally came to an end. Suzette managed not to rush rudely away from Willthrop to get as far from his bad breath as she could. While she would have liked to, she had been raised better than that and, instead, allowed him to walk her off the dance floor, nodding stiffly as he thanked her for the dance.

  "I believe the next dance is mine."

  Suzette paused to glance to the man who had appeared at her side as she and Willthrop reached the edge of the dance floor.

  "Ah, Danvers," Willthrop said in greeting. He then turned to nod to Suzette before moving off into the crowd.

  Suzette watched him go, and then turned to her next partner, vaguely recalling agreeing to dance with him early on in the evening. Her gaze slid over his face, taking note that there didn't appear to be anything wrong with him. He was average in looks, attractive even when he smiled as he was now doing. He was also only five to ten years older than she, and he wasn't sniffling, leering, or picking at spots. In fact, his complexion was spot free. He, of course, would be one of the not-in-need-of-money men, she supposed with a weary cynicism and glanced around in search of her sisters. She spotted Lisa first and raised a querying eyebrow. Her other eyebrow flew up to join it when Lisa gave her first the signal for land, then title, and finally the signal they'd agreed on for no money.

  Suzette immediately started to turn back to Danvers, a smile blooming on her lips, but that smile died suddenly and her jaw dropped open as she spotted Dicky making his way quickly through the people on the edges of the dance floor. He was headed straight for Christiana, who stood surrounded by a group of older women, no doubt garnering all the gossip she could on prospective husbands for Suzette.

  "It can't be," Suzette breathed with dismay as she stared at the man they'd left for dead when heading for the ball that night.

  "Is there something wrong, my lady?" Danvers asked.

  Suzette glanced to Danvers with confusion, so overset at the sight of her brother-in-law apparently alive and well that for a moment she couldn't recall why this man was at her side. Recollection struck her a blink later, but she merely shook her head and hurried away, forgetting even to mumble an excuse as she rushed toward Lisa.

  "What are you doing?" Lisa asked with amazement as Suzette caught her arm and hustled her through the crowd toward their older sister. "He was a prospect, and much better than the others so far. He--" The younger woman's words died on a strangled gasp as Suzette brought her to a halt next to Christiana and Lisa saw who their older sister was gaping at. When their brother-in-law turned toward them at the sound, Lisa breathed with horror, "But you're dead." Her head swiveled to Christiana. "Wasn't he dead, Chrissy? We packed ice around him and everything."

  "The ice must have revived his cold dead heart," Suzette said, anger helping her recover quickly from her shock. Glaring at the man, she added a dry but heartfelt, "More's the pity."

  If Dicky looked surprised by her comments, Christiana looked absolutely horrified.

  "Suzette!" she gasped, shuffling a little closer as if to physically silence her if Suzette tried to make another such comment. "Perhaps we should go out for some air. Lisa looks ready to faint and you, Suzie, obviously need some time to cool yourself. Perhaps so much dancing has overheated you."

  Suzette was about to snort at the suggestion that dancing had brought about her bitter words when her arm was suddenly taken in a firm grip and the words "Allow me" rang in her ears.

  Glancing around with a start, she frowned at the man who had suddenly appeared out of seemingly thin air and stepped between her and Lisa, taking both of them in hand like recalcitrant children. He was already turning them firmly away from Christiana and Dicky as he added, "I shall see the ladies outside so the two of you might talk."

  Suzette immediately began to tug on her arm, trying to free herself of his hold, but he didn't even seem to notice. Her captor simply held firm and glanced over his shoulder to suggest to the couple he was dragging them away from, "You might consider somewhere more private for this discussion."

  As Dicky took Christiana's arm to guide her away in the opposite direction, Suzette scowled at the man dragging her and Lisa through the crowd. She opened her mouth to order him to let them go, but then paused as she took her first good look at the man. He was a good head taller than her, his hair a dark brown, the ends curling a bit as if in need of a cut and his face in profile was quite nice, a strong chin, a straight nose, and eyes-- He turned toward her, glancing at her in question, and she decided he had quite the nicest green eyes she'd ever seen, a true green like fresh grass after a rain. He was definitely a good-looking fellow . . . and he was still manhandling her toward the French doors leading to the terrace.

  Her scowl returning, she mimicked the tone he'd used with Dicky and Christiana and said, "You might consider letting us go and minding your own business . . . or else I shall be forced to stomp on your foot, sir."

  "My lord," he corrected, sounding amused at her threat. "Daniel, Lord Woodrow."

  Suzette glowered at the man and was trying to work out how to stomp on his foot while he was forcing them to move so quickly, when he sudde
nly stopped, drawing her and Lisa to a halt as well. Before she could take advantage and stomp on him as planned, however, someone said, "I believe this is my dance."

  Suzette glanced around with surprise, eyes widening further when she saw the handsome, ice-blond man before them. She didn't recall agreeing to dance with him, and was sure she would have definitely remembered him. Besides, she knew she'd already promised the dance to Danvers, but she certainly had no compunction about taking advantage and agreeing to the dance to escape the Woodrow fellow trying to herd her and her sister out of the ballroom. The problem was that it would leave Lisa to Lord Woodrow's tender mercies and she couldn't do that. She was opening her mouth to politely explain to the blond man that he was confused and it wasn't his dance when Lisa blushed prettily and said, "Yes, actually it is. Thank you, my lord. However, I fear I can't leave my sister at the moment and--"

  "Don't be silly," Woodrow said easily, releasing Lisa. "I shall look after your sister for you. Go, have your dance."

  "Oh but--" Lisa glanced to Suzette with dismay, but the blond had already taken her arm and was leading her toward the dance floor.

  Sighing, Suzette waved her on. There was no sense in the two of them being manhandled and dragged about. Besides, she suspected she'd have more luck escaping Woodrow if she wasn't busy worrying about Lisa getting away as well. Still, she watched the couple a little enviously as they moved off. The man was incredibly handsome. Unfortunately, his expensive clothes suggested wealth, which meant he probably wasn't the kind of man she needed were she to save the family from their father's folly; but Lisa was free to marry whom she chose and for no other reason than love . . . and that was what she truly envied, Suzette acknowledged unhappily. It really didn't seem fair that she had to sacrifice herself for the family, but then life rarely was fair, she supposed.

  Woodrow urged her forward again and Suzette gave up staring after her sister and turned her attention to her predicament.

  "It really isn't proper for a young lady to allow herself to be led outside by a strange man," she pointed out grimly as he ushered her through a set of French doors and out onto a torchlit terrace. "We haven't even been properly introduced."