Page 16

T he servants paid her little attention as she snuck in through the back stairs. They were used to her antics. She hurriedly changed. She was back much later than she’d envisioned, and the ladies known as the ‘Sisterhood’ were meeting here this afternoon. Soon Claire would come looking for her.

While she dressed, she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking. What the hell was Wolf up to? Why this sudden interest in her—and marriage? As a girl, she’d dreamed of a man like Wolf offering her marriage, but in her dreams, the man had loved her—and Wolf wasn’t promising love.

And she understood why. He’d changed after his fiancée, Margo, had died. Just like Tiffany’s parents, he and Margo had been travelling by carriage when they were held up by highwaymen, and Margo had died not long after.

She pushed away the sad memories just as the door opened and Valora walked in.

“Oh, please save me from domineering brothers.”

Tiffany had not expected Valora to arrive so early, but then Valora liked any excuse to escape her house.

She tried to hide a yawn as she watched her friend pace the room. This galivanting around London after a sleepless night was taxing.

“What has the mighty Viscount Vale done now?”

Valora moved to look out the window. The shards of sunlight made her beauty almost ethereal. Tiffany’s bedchamber overlooked the back garden of her cousin’s London residence in Mayfair. Her desk was positioned under the window because she loved the view of the flowerbeds, but mostly because she loved how the early morning sunlight streamed in. Unlike the rest of her household, she was usually an early riser.

“Bloody Vale. My stuffy brother has declared that it is not proper for me to attend Mrs. Buchanan’s afternoon fete—”

Tiffany didn’t even pretend to stifle her gasp. She quickly sat up. “How on earth did you manage an invitation?”

“I flirted outrageously with young Mr. Turnbull at Lady Temple’s ball the other night, and talked him into taking me. When Vale found out, I’m afraid poor Mr. Turnbull got more of a tongue lashing than I. He’s also sporting a black eye, Courtney told me last night.”

“I should think so. Mrs. Buchanan is an actress and Fane’s mistress. You know it would ruin your reputation if you attended one of her soirees.”

“It’s so unfair.” Valora sat on the bed and rolled onto her back, flinging an arm dramatically across her forehead, shielding her eyes from a shaft of sunlight. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about women such as Mrs. Buchanan? Vale keeps a mistress too. Mother informs me that most men keep mistresses. I want to know why. What can a mistress do for a man that a wife cannot? Why would my husband want such a woman instead of me?”

Probably because men marry for many reasons, none of which are love. But she did not say this. Instead, she said, “You don’t have a husband. And if you frequent soirees such as Mrs. Buchanan’s, you’ll not likely get one—or not one you’d want anyway.”

But Tiffany too was interested in the subject of mistresses, immensely interested. Wolf was also rumored to have a mistress, a Lady Delia. Would she be attending Mrs. Buchanan’s fete with Wolf?

And would she be at the opera tonight? Why did the idea of Wolf’s mistress inflame her so?

“What do you think Mrs. Buchanan looks like? And why do the men like her so?”

Tiffany felt terribly out of sorts with this line of questioning. Give her a set of accounts or a company’s annual report and she could analyze the likely risk and return. But the nuances of human interactions? No. She’d leave those to her friends.

She reached for her spectacles on the side table. “I have no idea.”

Valora pouted. “Well, when I do select a husband, I definitely do not want him having any other women. He must love me madly, you see.”

Tiffany thought such a thing was quite possible. Valora was a fair-haired beauty who had not trouble wrapping a man around her little finger, as young Mr. Turnbull had found out to his detriment. Since Valora’s come-out, many of the ton’s eligible bachelors, and some not so eligible, had fallen at her feet professing love. A large dowry probably contributed to the attraction.

Financial logic, Tiffany could understand. Money was the key to freedom in the world. Many sins were forgiven if a person had well-stocked coffers.

“Can’t we wait until after refreshments to have this conversation?” She’d skipped breakfast in her haste to visit Capel Court. “The rest of the ladies will be here soon for an update on the status of our investments. The quarterly payments are in.”

The Sisterhood comprised sisters, cousins, and friends, all focused on one thing—making money. The eight girls had grown up in each other’s homes and were almost as close as sisters. The group had varied reasons as to why making money was important to them.

Valora sat up. “I knew I should have gone to Claire’s room first. She’d understand.”

“Claire would have thrown something at your head for such a harebrained idea.”

“It is so unfair that our brothers get to do whatever they like in this world while we embroider and plan charity luncheons.” Valora stood and looked wistfully out of the window. “Don’t you want to know the mysteries of the world before you are bartered off to the most sensible man in the most sensible match? I’m sick of being sensible.”

Tiffany thought perhaps it wasn’t the right time to say that Valora was rarely sensible.

“Your brother is not bartering you off. In fact, Vale has been very patient. You keep refusing offers. You’re getting a reputation for it.”

Tiffany tried not to be jealous. Unlike Valora, she’d not had a single offer. No man had fallen at her feet professing love.

Wolf’s image invaded her head. His lips on her skin…his offering her what she secretly wanted—to become his wife. She couldn’t believe how strong she’d been to have turned him down.

However, she did secretly agree with Valora on one thing. Unless a man wanted her for herself, she would never marry. She had a brain and her investments were doing well. She could already afford a small cottage in the country with a small staff. She’d prefer to live as a spinster than be locked in an unhappy marriage.

Besides, you’re madly in love with Wolf—but he has to love you back…

Valora pouted. “I’m waiting for the right man.”

It wasn’t what her friend said but the way she said it that made Tiffany give her a probing look. Valora would not meet her eye. Tiffany gave an excited squeal, and she jumped off the bed. “Goodness, you have a particular man in mind. That’s why you are refusing so many offers.”

“Don’t be silly.”

Tiffany clapped her hands. “I’m right. Who is he?” For the first time in her life Valora looked flustered. “Is he someone we know?” When color filled Valora’s face she added, “It is someone we know.” She prayed it wasn’t Wolf. She’d never stand a chance against Valora in a competition for Wolf’s affections.

“Whom do we know?” a cheery voice asked, and Claire entered Tiffany’s bedchamber through the connecting door. “I could hear your shriek through the walls, Tiffany. I thought you’d found another spider.”

“Valora is enamored of a gentleman and he is someone we know. He must be, or she’d have shared her secret.”

Claire flopped down on the bed next to Valora and yawned. “There is no secret. Valora’s been in love with Fane since the summer we spied on him, Vale and Wolf swimming in the pond on our estate.”

Swimming naked. Tiffany’s face heated. What a sight that had been. Wolf emerging from the pond like a Greek god, bronzed and glistening. His masculinity had caused her body to heat, and all she’d wanted was to run her hand over every inch of him…

“Goodness,” Valora cried out, “please tell me Fane does not know.”

Fane? Tiffany shook away the vision of perfection lodged in her head. Her mouth fell open as she stared at the two young ladies lying on her bed. “Fane?” She shook her head. “Our Fane?”

Claire nodded. “Don’t worry. He has no idea.”

“So that’s why you want to go to Mrs. Buchanan’s soiree, Valora.” Suddenly, Tiffany did not envy her beautiful friend at all. Fane had many ladies, including the type she was supposed to know nothing about, throwing themselves at him. Rich and incredibly handsome, he was renowned for the mistresses and pretty actresses under his protection. In his younger days, he’d left a trail of broken hearts in his wake. As he’d gotten older, he’d become more discreet.

Claire reached out and took Valora’s hand. “He has to marry one day, but I truly hope you don’t waste your life waiting for him. If he cannot see the treasure you are right under his nose, he’s not good enough for you.”

When tears welled in Valora’s eyes, Tiffany did not know what to say. At eight and twenty years of age, it was past time that Fane thought about marrying and filling a nursery, but Fane was in no hurry; he had his younger brother, Dayton, as the spare.

It was time to change this dangerous subject lest Claire and Valora look too closely at Tiffany and ferret out where her affections lay. They would call her the worst of fools to have fallen for Wolf. She was waiting for them to ask about Wolf’s attentions last night.

Tiffany walked to the bell and pulled it. “Could you take Miss Valora to the drawing room and pour her a strong cup of tea,” she told the maid who entered.

Valora rose from the bed and smoothed her dress before walking past her to the door.

Tiffany said, “Claire and I will be down shortly after we have discussed a private matter. We won’t be long and the others will be arriving soon.”

Luckily Valora was too upset to ask what private matter. Before she left the room she said, “You won’t tell the others will you? I couldn’t bear it. It’s bad enough you two pity me let alone the others.”

With that she slipped from the room and followed the maid downstairs.

As Milly, their lady’s maid, arrived to sort out their dresses for the day, Tiffany turned to Claire. “You’ve known all this time?”

“It was not my place to tell. But I think her moping after my brother has gone on long enough. I wish I could make Valora see what a perfect bore he really is. Then perhaps she’d move on. Lord Northbrook is very keen on her.”

Lord Northbrook was young and very handsome, and rich, and an Earl with a large estate. Valora could do much worse. “Fane is not a bore,” Tiffany said, “and that’s the problem. He’s charismatic, witty and intelligent. Every debutante falls in love with him. He could have his pick. And he’s just as handsome as Northbrook.”

Just like Wolf.

“I fear that’s the truth of it. Valora will risk all if she waits for my brother.” Claire paused in the doorway.

Tiffany cleared her throat. “Speaking of risk… I bumped into Wolf at Capel Court.”

“Did he recognize you?”

“He escorted me home,” she hurriedly added. “But he’s promised not to tell Marlowe.”

Claire eyed her suspiciously. “That doesn’t sound like any friend of Fane’s.” Her eyes narrowed further. “What did you have to promise him?”

She wanted to tell Claire the truth but she couldn’t. “Nothing, I swear. Something about helping him with a painting he’s working on.”

“How strange. Normally he’d be straight to Marlowe’s door.” She sat silently for a moment, looking at Tiffany. “Something is up. I want to know what Wolf’s sudden interest in you is all about. Dancing with you last night…” At Tiffany’s silence, Claire added, “Just remember our French lessons and what happened to Little Red Riding Hood when she played with the big bad wolf. Whatever you are up to, be careful.”

Claire left to gather her papers for their meeting. She had not believed Tiffany for a minute. That was what came from being as close as sisters. Tiffany sat at her dressing table and brushed her hair. Her heart hurt. Claire knew there was something afoot because she could not see a man like Wolf taking an interest in Tiffany otherwise. She gave herself a stern talking to. After just one short interval of Wolf’s attentions, she had already forgotten this was but a game to him. She had to protect her heart and not lose it to Wolf completely, or she’d be crushed by bitter disappointment. Wolf would never love a woman like her.

Now Valora… A man could definitely lose his heart to a woman as beautiful as she was. Tiffany would love to see her friend happy and she’d love to see her married to Fane. Valora would be the perfect sister-in-law. Surely, if they all put their heads together, they could find a way to bring two of her favorite people in the world together.

They could do it.

She was sure they could.

The afternoon meeting of the Sisterhood would take on a different bent today. For once Tiffany wasn’t thinking of her precious investments. They had other fish to fry—but first they had to catch Fane, who would be as slippery as an eel.