Deceiving the Duke of Kerrington

Chapter Four

Pierce had spent the better part of a day fretting about the wager he had made and won against the Earl of Brattondale. He was currently sitting in his study nursing a drink feeling as if he was in a stupor, not sure if he should feel relieved or upset by the outcome of the game of piquet. He knew that he needed to go meet the mysterious Lady Noelle sooner rather than later, but he couldn't quite muster up enough excitement to go about the task. Instead, he was contemplating another distasteful task he knew he had to take care of immediately—inform his mother, the Duchess of Kerrington, that he was to be wed.

He was ashamed at the thought of telling his mother about how he had flippantly bet on a lady's hand in marriage. He knew she would be disappointed that he hadn't taken marriage more seriously and that he had failed to make a love match. She had always held such high hopes that he would meet the right girl and fall in love and then get married. And at one point, in his younger years, he had honestly tried to go that route, until he figured out for himself that it wouldn't happen. Rare was the person of the aristocracy who was lucky enough to find real love, and by now, he had relegated his fate to that of the majority of the ton—marrying for convenience and appearance.

His thoughts were interrupted by a light knocking on the door, followed by his butler entering, with Viscount Martineau following closely behind. He straightened in his chair. "Thank you, Simon, for showing Lord Martineau in. You are dismissed." Simon nodded his head stiffly before quietly disappearing.

Elliot sat down in a chair opposite the sturdy desk Pierce was sitting behind that dominated the room and leaned forward on his elbows. "What's this about you needing to speak to me? You haven't gotten yourself into some sort of trouble have you?"

"I guess that depends on how you look at it." Elliot arched an eyebrow but sat quietly, waiting for Pierce to continue. Pierce exhaled loudly before continuing. "Remember that night at the Sedgewick ball where I played Lord Brattondale in a hand of piquet?"

"Of course."

"Well, you left before you had a chance to see the outcome of the game."

Elliot relaxed, leaning his large frame back in the chair he was occupying. "Oh, did you lose to him as well? He was in top form that night, but I don't see as how losing a few pounds to the arrogant earl should upset you. If it's your pride that is hurt, I might understand, but this shouldn't be about the money for you."

"Of course it isn't about the money," he snapped. "And it's not about my pride either—I won."

"Then what is the trouble?"

"I did not play for money; he bet his daughter's hand in marriage."

Lord Martineau jumped to his feet. "And you won? That's absurd. What kind of man wagers his daughter's hand in a card game?"

"What kind of man plays for a lady's hand? What does that say about me? I still cannot believe it myself, but what's done is done, and I surely can't go back on my word. It looks as though I will be marrying Lady Noelle as soon as the announcement can be made, the banns read, and everything arranged."

Elliot began pacing back and forth. "The only way you could get out of it is, if you are found compromising another young lady and are forced to marry her instead. Do you have someone in mind you would rather wed?" he asked hopefully.

"No, that's the problem. There is not a single lady who interests me. Not one. The way I figure, I might as well marry the earl's daughter. One lady is as good as the next one as far as I'm concerned."

Lord Martineau shrugged. "You've got me there. I would say I have to agree. We can't all have a fairytale ending now can we?" Bitterness crept into his voice. Elliot knew better than anyone how true that was, having lost the one person he had ever loved years ago. One day she had been in his life making him the happiest man alive and the next she had disappeared, just like that. He still hadn't been able to get over the loss or figure out what had happened to her.