a lifetime!” he said pleasantly.
Jamison arched a brow. “Pray—do tell!”
Jerome chuckled softly. “Well, let’s see here, m’lord! I imagine that you’ve been lying here with poor Beth bemoaning the fact that the illustrious and damnable Pierce DeForte is sleeping with my oh-so-wonderful sister. So let’s think about this. Surely, with your wonderfully cunning mind, there must be something you can plan?”
Beth moaned. “Take care, Jamison!”
“Shut up!” Jamison snapped. “What are you getting at?” he demanded of Jerome.
Jerome shot Beth a smile. “Beth, we are going to need your help, but I know that Jamison will see that you are well rewarded for any assistance you give.”
Beth arched a brow.
“Tell me about this plan!” Jamison insisted.
Jerome grinned, swallowing down his whiskey. “It’s really so damned simple! On the one hand, we have the exquisite Rose! Legally obliged to at least pay you some heed. Then we have the object of your dearest desire—Anne. Then, of course, the illustrious DeForte, and finally, my friend, you. Two women, two men. We just have to see that they are all arranged properly!”
“And how do we do that?” Jamison demanded.
“Are we all in?” Jerome queried.
Beth nodded. Jamison hesitated. He would have done anything for Anne. Wanting her had become an obsession.
“Yes, we’re both in,” Jamison said at last.
Jerome grinned like a jester. “This is the plan …”
Rose was entirely unaware that she might be the focus of anyone’s evil thoughts at the moment. Her own temper had risen to a tempest; and she was too busy ranting about Lord Pierce DeForte to think of her distant cousin.
“Well, now, he can’t be that horrid a creature!” Mary Kate said soothingly as she ran a brush through Rose’s long tresses. Newly washed and lightly scented, the long hair felt like silk sliding through Mary Kate’s fingers. Though Mary Kate was doing her very best to keep a somber inflection in her voice, she was secretly rather amused. She had been with Rose since her mother’s death, and they were very close. Theirs was far more than a mistress-maid relationship, which is why Rose felt free to rant and rave to Mary Kate now about the fury in her heart—all directed at Lord Pierce DeForte.
“I tell you, Mary Kate, God put no more horrid creature upon this earth! You would have thought that I had purposely waylaid the man! And he did soak me with full malicious intent, I tell you! I have never, never in all my days, come across an individual more rude!” She sniffed, whirling around in the chair before the dressing table. Her eyes, ferociously green at the moment, seemed to sizzle with emerald fire. “He is detestable!”
Mary Kate expertly whirled the deep auburn skeins of Rose’s hair into a smooth coil at her nape. “He is the rage of all London, you know,” she told Rose.
“All London can have him.”
“He’s one of the king’s dearest friends.”
“Even such a splendid monarch may be ill advised in choosing his friends!”
“I also believe that your father considers him the most eligible man in England.”
Rose waved a hand impatiently in the air. “You know Father, Mary Kate! He simply doesn’t understand. And he’s certainly never met Pierce DeForte! If he had, he would never think him at all possible as husband material! Oh, I can’t believe that he’s had me sent here to court to begin with! And set up in such a humiliating position—like a prize racehorse, trying to attract the best stud!”
“Rose!” Mary Kate exclaimed in horror.
“Well, it’s the truth!” she cried, her eyes still green fire, liquid with her fury, and just a trace of tears. She loved her father deeply, but the events that had occurred today had truly brought home the misery of her place here. He wanted her to marry—in England! And all that she wanted to do was go home!
“He has no right!” she said suddenly, staring at Mary Kate. “He spent
Jamison arched a brow. “Pray—do tell!”
Jerome chuckled softly. “Well, let’s see here, m’lord! I imagine that you’ve been lying here with poor Beth bemoaning the fact that the illustrious and damnable Pierce DeForte is sleeping with my oh-so-wonderful sister. So let’s think about this. Surely, with your wonderfully cunning mind, there must be something you can plan?”
Beth moaned. “Take care, Jamison!”
“Shut up!” Jamison snapped. “What are you getting at?” he demanded of Jerome.
Jerome shot Beth a smile. “Beth, we are going to need your help, but I know that Jamison will see that you are well rewarded for any assistance you give.”
Beth arched a brow.
“Tell me about this plan!” Jamison insisted.
Jerome grinned, swallowing down his whiskey. “It’s really so damned simple! On the one hand, we have the exquisite Rose! Legally obliged to at least pay you some heed. Then we have the object of your dearest desire—Anne. Then, of course, the illustrious DeForte, and finally, my friend, you. Two women, two men. We just have to see that they are all arranged properly!”
“And how do we do that?” Jamison demanded.
“Are we all in?” Jerome queried.
Beth nodded. Jamison hesitated. He would have done anything for Anne. Wanting her had become an obsession.
“Yes, we’re both in,” Jamison said at last.
Jerome grinned like a jester. “This is the plan …”
Rose was entirely unaware that she might be the focus of anyone’s evil thoughts at the moment. Her own temper had risen to a tempest; and she was too busy ranting about Lord Pierce DeForte to think of her distant cousin.
“Well, now, he can’t be that horrid a creature!” Mary Kate said soothingly as she ran a brush through Rose’s long tresses. Newly washed and lightly scented, the long hair felt like silk sliding through Mary Kate’s fingers. Though Mary Kate was doing her very best to keep a somber inflection in her voice, she was secretly rather amused. She had been with Rose since her mother’s death, and they were very close. Theirs was far more than a mistress-maid relationship, which is why Rose felt free to rant and rave to Mary Kate now about the fury in her heart—all directed at Lord Pierce DeForte.
“I tell you, Mary Kate, God put no more horrid creature upon this earth! You would have thought that I had purposely waylaid the man! And he did soak me with full malicious intent, I tell you! I have never, never in all my days, come across an individual more rude!” She sniffed, whirling around in the chair before the dressing table. Her eyes, ferociously green at the moment, seemed to sizzle with emerald fire. “He is detestable!”
Mary Kate expertly whirled the deep auburn skeins of Rose’s hair into a smooth coil at her nape. “He is the rage of all London, you know,” she told Rose.
“All London can have him.”
“He’s one of the king’s dearest friends.”
“Even such a splendid monarch may be ill advised in choosing his friends!”
“I also believe that your father considers him the most eligible man in England.”
Rose waved a hand impatiently in the air. “You know Father, Mary Kate! He simply doesn’t understand. And he’s certainly never met Pierce DeForte! If he had, he would never think him at all possible as husband material! Oh, I can’t believe that he’s had me sent here to court to begin with! And set up in such a humiliating position—like a prize racehorse, trying to attract the best stud!”
“Rose!” Mary Kate exclaimed in horror.
“Well, it’s the truth!” she cried, her eyes still green fire, liquid with her fury, and just a trace of tears. She loved her father deeply, but the events that had occurred today had truly brought home the misery of her place here. He wanted her to marry—in England! And all that she wanted to do was go home!
“He has no right!” she said suddenly, staring at Mary Kate. “He spent
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