Page 75 of A Virgin for the Rakish Duke

Simon smiled at the little jest he made, but Jeremy simply glared at him. His smile faded, and he licked his lips again, accompanying it with a dry washing of his hands.

“IfHarriet was indeed betrothed to another, then I would be without a potential wife, which I understood to be a condition of purchase,” Jeremy muttered, glancing Harriet’s way again as she remained engaged in conversation with the stranger.

“Certainly. To besoleowner? Yes, my parents would never consider selling to a bachelor. But as a partner alongside one that they trust implicitly?”

Simon spread his hands as though the answer was obvious. Jeremy could see it now, Simon must have known that Ralph had found a suitor for Harriet.

How did he know? Ralph is surely not friends with him. They do not know each other, of that I am certain. But he must have known, and that is why he suddenly became an advocate for me...

“And how am I to know you speak the truth?” Jeremy enquired.

Simon’s smile cut deep. “Because I can tell you the name of Lady Harriet’s betrothed. Herrealbetrothed.”

Jeremy’s jaw locked. He wanted to shake the words out of him, his fists knotting behind his back. “Go on…”

“Henri de Rouvroy,” Simon said smoothly. “Son of the French ambassador. Brother to—”

“Eloise…” Jeremy finished, the name striking him like a blow.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jeremy sat slumped in a chair before the fire in his study. Beyond the room's windows was a bright and pleasant day, but it might as well have been stormy and lashing with rain. In Jeremy's mind, it was. The fire lapped at balls of paper containing his attempts at a letter to Harriet. The latest draft was on the small side table in front of him.

He had begun attempting to pen the letters after returning from the Imperial to find that the Tisdales had left. He assumed they would return to Oaksgrove. Jeremy wanted to be ahorse and pursuing them, but business kept him in London.

Hang business! Hang the Winchester Opera House and hang the El Dorado! Am I going to let Ralph marry her off? Let him sabotage my purchase of the Opera House, even if he doesn't know his hand in it?

The trouble was that the threat to his ambition was not the spur to action that it had once been. The notion that Harriet would bemarried off to another man, however, was far more of a cold and blustery thought.

Ridiculous… Wives are easy to come by. Women are even easier. Why should I care for a woman whom I do not care for beyond lust and the need to secure the goodwill of the Winchesters?

He tried to make himself callous. To rebuild walls that he sensed had been weakened by Harriet. But it wasn't working.

I should be meeting with Simon Winchester to discuss our partnership, for that is clearly the only way I am going to be able to secure this purchase…

He took up the pen again, hovering over a blank piece of paper, intending to write a note that could be carried to Simon at his lodgings, requesting an urgent meeting. Instead, it was Harriet's name that was committed to paper once more.

If I make our engagement public and real, it will cost me my friendship with Ralph. But I will have my Opera House without Simon's help. And I will have Harriet. Forever. As my wife. If she even wishes it…

He crushed the paper in his fist and tossed it into the fire again. He needed no wife! Marriage would not secure his place at the apex of his ancestors.

A knock came at the door, and he barked an answer. Atkins entered.

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace. A Doctor March is in the anteroom requesting an audience.”

Jeremy had leaped to his feet as Atkins had entered, anticipating a visitor and believing for a brief moment that the butler would give Harriet's name. Now, his shoulders sagged and he sat down, slumping back.

Impeccable timing. Another loose end I must tie up.

“I have no time for an audience. Send him away,” Jeremy muttered.

“He is… rather insistent, Your Grace. He asked me to communicate that he is due to dine with the Earl of Oaksgrove on Friday.”

Atkins showed no signs of curiosity, merely conveying the message accurately. But Jeremy knew what the good Doctor was saying.

See me… or else.

“Very well, Atkins. Show him in and bring us some tea.”