about Caroline Woods?’
Georgina rolled her eyes and swatted her husband on the shoulder. ‘The girl is as vicious as a hungry cat.’
‘Pretty, though.’
Before Georgina could launch into a long-winded reprimand Alex held up a hand to stop them.
‘I don’t need a woman. And I most certainly don’t need you two matchmaking for me.’
‘You haven’t done very well these last few years on your own,’ Georgina murmured. ‘We just want to see you happy. Ever since...’
‘Don’t,’ Alex said sharply. ‘Don’t say her name.’
Georgina sighed. ‘Ever since she left you haven’t looked at another woman seriously.’
It wasn’t true. Alex looked. He smiled and charmed and danced with women. He listened to the empty twittering of the debutantes year after year and wondered if they were trained to talk only of the weather, fashion and—if he was especially lucky—the latest opera they had seen. Maybe it was unreasonable to want more, to want excitement and humour and that spark of attraction, but he’d experienced all of that with Victoria and refused to settle for anything less again. True, his liaison with Victoria had ended in a heartbreak even he wasn’t sure he was fully recovered from three years down the line, but at least she’d amused and enthralled him with her quick wit and sharp observations.
‘And you do need to produce an heir...’ his sister said, dropping her voice.
‘But preferably one with at least average intelligence,’ Alex murmured.
‘You do the young debutantes a disservice,’ Georgina reprimanded him. ‘From an early age we women are told that men like us meek and obedient, without strong views on politics or other worldly matters. If you would just get to know one or two young ladies properly, I think you’d find surprising depths.’
‘I’m not sure I want a wife who believes to please a man she needs to blend into the crowd.’
‘I’m not sure you want a wife, Whitemore,’ Pentworthy said quietly.
All three fell quiet as they contemplated the truth behind the words. Alex saw his sister open her mouth and knew he had to say anything to stop her getting her next quip in. Sometimes his sister could be too sharp, too observant, and his character flaws had taken enough of a verbal beating today already.
‘All I’m saying is I could take any woman here today and turn her into the perfect debutante. All she would need is a few fancy clothes, good manners, some passing knowledge of banal topics of conversation and me as her sponsor, of course.’
Georgina sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘Have I ever told you you’re arrogant and insufferable?’
‘Once or twice.’
Pentworthy held up a hand. ‘Wait, wait, wait. I have an idea. A wager.’
Alex eyed his brother-in-law uneasily as he saw the excitement shine in his sister’s eyes.
‘Whitemore, we give you six weeks to turn one of these country lasses into the perfect debutante. The first ball of the London Season will be around then—that can be the test. If she fits in, has a full dance card and doesn’t do anything scandalous, then you will have won the wager.’
‘What are the stakes?’ Alex asked. He knew he should decline right away, but he’d never been able to resist a challenge.
‘If you win, Georgina and I will never mention marriage or try to pair you off again.’
Already Alex felt the smile spreading across his lips. He would be free to accept invitations to dinner without having to worry whether some eligible young miss would be placed next to him, expecting to be wooed.
‘And if he loses?’ Georgina asked.
‘Then he has to seriously look for a wife.’
Alex waved a hand dismissively. Admittedly the stakes were high if he lost, but he wasn’t in the habit of losing and didn’t plan on starting now. How hard could it be? Most of the young women in attendance at the Pottersdown Fair were the daughters of the country gentry. Even if he were unlucky and a servant or shop girl was selected, six weeks was a long time. He was sure he could teach them the basic etiquette for the ballroom.
‘Who chooses the woman?’ he asked.
‘We’ll leave it to chance. Once we’ve agreed and shaken hands, it’ll be the next unmarried woman of an appropriate age to walk past us.’
‘And if she doesn’t agree?’
‘That is part of the wager, my dear fellow. You have to persuade her.’
‘And you’re not allowed to pay her,’ Georgina added quickly.
Alex nodded slowly. There was a small chance the woman or her family might flatly refuse to be part of this, but Alex was charming and eloquent and there weren’t many things he couldn’t persuade people to do. Besides, what young woman wouldn’t want to be bought beautiful dresses and escorted to sumptuous balls?
‘I’m in,’ Alex said, holding out his hand and suppressing a smile as his sister squealed in delight. He shook Pentworthy’s hand, then slowly all three turned to look to see who would be the next eligible young woman to walk past.
He saw the brightly coloured skirt first and with his heart sinking in his chest he slowly let his eyes travel upwards to confirm his fears. Beside him, Georgina was in hysterics, laughing in a very unladylike manner. Even his brother-in-law was chuckling softly.
‘Do you want to give up now?’ Pentworthy asked quietly.
Alex shook his head, but even he knew it would be a stretch to transform the pretty gypsy girl into a member of the gentry. Gypsies had a bad reputation, much of it unfounded, but Alex knew the young woman walking towards him would be more at home dancing around an open fire than waltzing through a ballroom.
Lina eyed the gentleman in front of her suspiciously. ‘You want me to do what?’
He sighed, threw a glance back over his shoulder to where his sister and another young man were sitting, barely able to conceal their mirth, before trying to explain again.
‘My name is Lord Whitemore,’ he began slowly.
‘I got that part,’ Lina said, adding under her breath, ‘I’m confused, not deaf.’
‘The woman sitting over there is my sister. The man with her is her husband. They have made it their aim in life to see me settled down with a wife and no doubt multiple children.’
‘That’s lovely,’ Lina said. ‘But I hardly see how any of this concerns me.’
‘I have made a wager with my sister and brother-in-law that hopefully will stop them meddling in the affairs of my heart for the foreseeable future. You are that wager.’
