dismissively, back at Iveston.
What on earth had happened at Hyde House in the past half
hour? It looked not unlike some romantic entanglement was
afoot between Lord Iveston and Miss Prestwick, which did
make such sense as both were unmarried and at that point in
life where marriage was a near certainty. On the other hand, it
did not seem at all logical that three sons of the same father
should find themselves married within the same Season. The
odds were flagrantly against it.
Where odds were concerned, Edenham was well aware that
Sophia Dalby was not to be discounted. Indeed, the odds, no
matter how rigorously stacked against logic, invariably fell her
way. Toppled , one might even say. Edenham crossed his legs and
watched the entertainment currently under way in the white
salon of Dalby House, wondering if there were a bet on White’s
book and what the odds were on an Iveston–Prestwick pairing.
By the frozen looks of complete indifference they were hurl
ing at each other at the moment, he’d put them at eight to one.
How to Daz zle a Duke
43
“A gift?” Sophia exclaimed in obvious delight. “But I can’t think
why you should offer me a gift, Lord Cranleigh. I shouldn’t have
thought we were as intimate as all that.”
Cranleigh, who did have the reputation for having the grim
mest temperament, and who should have been expected to respond
with some dismal and dismissive comment, chuckled. It was quite
stunning. Marriage to Lady Amelia clearly agreed with him com
pletely.
“It is,” Cranleigh said, unwrapping the parcel with great care,
“something of a family tradition, or shall be, I fear.” Which made
not a bit of sense to Edenham, nor to Mr. and Miss Prestwick to
judge by their expressions, but which caused Sophia to grin fully
and most, most delightedly. “I hope it pleases you, Lady Dalby.
I trust you understand the reason behind the gift.”
And upon those words, Cranleigh revealed the most exquisite
Chinese vase in the most extraordinarily vivid shade of blue.
“Cranleigh, it is a most generous gift,” Sophia said brightly,
“and I would tell you that I am hardly worthy of it, but it is so
lovely that I must and I will toss all civility onto the street. It is
marvelous, darling. I don’t feel I deserve it, but I will cherish it
all my life. Thank you, Lord Cranleigh,” she finished, her voice
gone soft and, startlingly, quite sincere.
“It is quite beautiful, isn’t it?” Lord Iveston said, his expres
sion very nearly wistful. “That blue, it’s very nearly the exact
shade of Lady Amelia’s eyes, is it not?”
“It is not ,” Cranleigh said stiffl y as Sophia took the vase from
his hands and admired it. “Amelia’s eyes are the precise shade of
the China Sea on a sun-drenched day. How peculiar that you
didn’t notice that, Iveston.”
“As I have not seen the China Sea,” Iveston remarked mildly,
“I should perhaps be allowed some latitude.”
“The color of the China Sea?” Miss Prestwick said slowly and
not at all happily, perhaps because her own eyes were the precise
44 CLAUDIA DAIN
shading of a lump of coal? Not unattractive, but still, not the
China Sea either. “I had no idea you were so well traveled, Lord
Cranleigh. Have you been to China often?”
“Only once, I’m afraid. I had thought to return, but—”
“He got himself married instead,” Iveston interrupted cordially,
ignoring the Prestwicks completely. It was most entertaining.
“Have you traveled widely, your grace?” Miss Prestwick
asked him.
Before he could answer, Sophia said, still studying her
rectangular-shaped vase, “How could he have done, Miss Prest
wick, when he is forever getting married again and again?”
“And again,” Edenham added with a smirk. “Thrice. I do
think accuracy must be maintained, Lady Dalby. Have you trav
eled, Miss Prestwick?” he asked. What was Sophia about, to
manhandle the girl so? It wasn’t at all
What on earth had happened at Hyde House in the past half
hour? It looked not unlike some romantic entanglement was
afoot between Lord Iveston and Miss Prestwick, which did
make such sense as both were unmarried and at that point in
life where marriage was a near certainty. On the other hand, it
did not seem at all logical that three sons of the same father
should find themselves married within the same Season. The
odds were flagrantly against it.
Where odds were concerned, Edenham was well aware that
Sophia Dalby was not to be discounted. Indeed, the odds, no
matter how rigorously stacked against logic, invariably fell her
way. Toppled , one might even say. Edenham crossed his legs and
watched the entertainment currently under way in the white
salon of Dalby House, wondering if there were a bet on White’s
book and what the odds were on an Iveston–Prestwick pairing.
By the frozen looks of complete indifference they were hurl
ing at each other at the moment, he’d put them at eight to one.
How to Daz zle a Duke
43
“A gift?” Sophia exclaimed in obvious delight. “But I can’t think
why you should offer me a gift, Lord Cranleigh. I shouldn’t have
thought we were as intimate as all that.”
Cranleigh, who did have the reputation for having the grim
mest temperament, and who should have been expected to respond
with some dismal and dismissive comment, chuckled. It was quite
stunning. Marriage to Lady Amelia clearly agreed with him com
pletely.
“It is,” Cranleigh said, unwrapping the parcel with great care,
“something of a family tradition, or shall be, I fear.” Which made
not a bit of sense to Edenham, nor to Mr. and Miss Prestwick to
judge by their expressions, but which caused Sophia to grin fully
and most, most delightedly. “I hope it pleases you, Lady Dalby.
I trust you understand the reason behind the gift.”
And upon those words, Cranleigh revealed the most exquisite
Chinese vase in the most extraordinarily vivid shade of blue.
“Cranleigh, it is a most generous gift,” Sophia said brightly,
“and I would tell you that I am hardly worthy of it, but it is so
lovely that I must and I will toss all civility onto the street. It is
marvelous, darling. I don’t feel I deserve it, but I will cherish it
all my life. Thank you, Lord Cranleigh,” she finished, her voice
gone soft and, startlingly, quite sincere.
“It is quite beautiful, isn’t it?” Lord Iveston said, his expres
sion very nearly wistful. “That blue, it’s very nearly the exact
shade of Lady Amelia’s eyes, is it not?”
“It is not ,” Cranleigh said stiffl y as Sophia took the vase from
his hands and admired it. “Amelia’s eyes are the precise shade of
the China Sea on a sun-drenched day. How peculiar that you
didn’t notice that, Iveston.”
“As I have not seen the China Sea,” Iveston remarked mildly,
“I should perhaps be allowed some latitude.”
“The color of the China Sea?” Miss Prestwick said slowly and
not at all happily, perhaps because her own eyes were the precise
44 CLAUDIA DAIN
shading of a lump of coal? Not unattractive, but still, not the
China Sea either. “I had no idea you were so well traveled, Lord
Cranleigh. Have you been to China often?”
“Only once, I’m afraid. I had thought to return, but—”
“He got himself married instead,” Iveston interrupted cordially,
ignoring the Prestwicks completely. It was most entertaining.
“Have you traveled widely, your grace?” Miss Prestwick
asked him.
Before he could answer, Sophia said, still studying her
rectangular-shaped vase, “How could he have done, Miss Prest
wick, when he is forever getting married again and again?”
“And again,” Edenham added with a smirk. “Thrice. I do
think accuracy must be maintained, Lady Dalby. Have you trav
eled, Miss Prestwick?” he asked. What was Sophia about, to
manhandle the girl so? It wasn’t at all
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