Prince Charming by Julie Garwood

“I despise William Merritt. He’s a crook and a manipulator. He duped my father, then publicly boasted of his cleverness. My father was humiliated.”
    â€œLook what William did to his own brothers,” Morris said.
    â€œHe almost destroyed Jordan and Douglas, didn’t he?” Hampton asked.
    â€œHe did,” Morris answered. “William’s getting his just reward, all right. He’s going to be miserable the rest of his life. Jane’s every bit as vile as he is. They make a frightening couple, don’t they? Rumor has it she’s carrying his child. I pity the babe if that gossip is true.”
    â€œShe could be carrying,” Hampton agreed. “The two were blatantly carrying on while he was engaged. Jane’s going to be sorry, too. She thinks William has quite an inheritance left.”
    â€œDoesn’t he?” Lucas asked the question.
    Hampton shook his head. “It will soon come out with the wash. He’s as destitute as a beggar. The fool speculated and lost every pound he had. The bankers own his land now. He’s probably counting on Jane getting a fat inheritance when old Lady Stapleton dies. She was ailing, but I understand she made another miraculous recovery.”
    The music started up again. The crowd was forced to quit gawking. Taylor lifted the hem of her gown and walked down the steps. Lucas couldn’t take his gaze off her. He took a step toward her, then stopped to look at his timepiece again.
    Ten more minutes left. He could last that long. Just ten more minutes and then he would be free. He let out a loud sigh of satisfaction and smiled in anticipation.
    Lady Taylor was also smiling. She was following her grandmother’s orders to the letter. She had forced a smile on her face the second she’d walked through the doorway, and by God, no one was going to do or say anything to make her frown.
    She would smile. She would celebrate. It was agony. She was so sick inside over the mockery of it all, her stomach felt as though it were on fire.
    Taylor forced herself not to give in to despair. She must look forward to the future, she thought, echoing her grandmother’s words to her. The babies needed her.
    Young, unattached men came rushing forward. Taylor ignored them. She looked around the ballroom, trying to find her escort. She spotted her cousin, Jane, then William, but refused to allow herself to stare at either one of them. Her heart started pounding. Dear God, what would she do if they came over to her? What would she say to them? Congratulations? Oh, God, she’d die first or throw up. She hadn’t considered the possibility they would attend the affair. Her mind had been consumed with her worry about her grandmother. There hadn’t been room for lesser concerns. Ironically, Madam had made quite an improvement that afternoon, and when Taylor had taken her leave, she was hopeful her grandmother had truly been given another reprieve.
    An eager young man she knew she’d met before but couldn’t remember where or when begged her for the honor of escorting her onto the dance floor. Taylor graciously declined. He had just turned away from her when she heard Jane’s distinctive high-pitched laughter. She turned to look, spotted Jane’s malicious smile, and then noticed a young lady turn and hurry toward the exit. Taylor recognized the girl. She was Lady Catherine, the youngest of Sir Connan’s offspring and barely fifteen years old.
    Getting married hadn’t improved Jane’s disposition. Catherine had just become her latest victim, Taylor decided, when she saw the look of devastation on the poor girl’s face.
    Taylor was suddenly overwhelmed with melancholy. Cruelty was a sport some of her relatives thoroughly enjoyed. She was sickened by their meanness, and in her present state of mind, she simply didn’t know how to combat it any longer. She felt useless, inept. She had always known she