Gentlemen Prefer Heiresses

  Dedication

  For all the lovely readers

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  An Announcement to Beyond Scandal and Desire

  About the Author

  By Lorraine Heath

  A Letter from the Editor

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Prologue

  From the Journal of Lord Andrew Mabry

  I was born the spare. The second son. The extra. The one held in reserve. The one who arrived without fanfare or bells tolling. The one who would not inherit unless the heir cocked up his toes.

  Since my older brother was a most sensible man, his demise was unlikely to take place before he provided his own heir and spare.

  So little was expected of me.

  I was to be a gentleman, to play, to squander my allowance, to provide entertainment, to be always pleasant and always in the background. I embraced these duties as though Great Britain would fall if I did not see to them with enthusiasm and diligence.

  I was a right jolly fellow, with no plans to ever marry. After all, I was not responsible for the next generation. A wife would hinder my pleasures, would be a symbol of the responsibility I was allowed to avoid. I was carefree. I wanted to remain that way, had taken a vow to welcome death in my old age as a bachelor.

  Then I met her.

  And she challenged everything I knew and understood about myself.

  Chapter 1

  London

  July, 1882

  As organ music wafted up to the church rafters, Miss Virginia Hammersley strolled slowly down the aisle toward the altar where the Marquess of Rexton stood tall and handsome. Gina was the one who was supposed to marry this Season, the one whom the marquess had supposedly been courting.

  Yet today she was serving merely as the maid of honor because the Marquess of Rexton had fallen in love with her older and incredibly scandalous sister. Since the beau monde loved scandal and the marquess’s family equally, the pews were fairly packed. Amazing how love could right a ruined reputation. She took quite a bit of pride in her role of seeing it righted, of seeing Tillie—if not fully embraced by Society—at least no longer being shunned by it.

  As Gina neared, Rex acknowledged her with a slight bowing of his head and a smile that spoke a volume of happiness, the sort of smile she dreamed the man she eventually married would direct her way. One that foretold a love so grand that time would be powerless to erase it. Adoration that could not be measured. Esteem that knew no bounds.

  Emotions exemplified in every romantic novel she’d read and clutched to her bosom when finished, tears rolling down her cheeks. Such affection could not be written about if it didn’t exist. She was determined to find it in the form of a duke, or a marquess, or an earl. She was one of the wealthiest heiresses to ever set foot on England’s shores. With her sister’s redemption, the possibilities for Gina’s own future and acquiring all she held dear opened up dramatically.

  While the Season was nearing its end, it was not yet over, and she was determined to make the most of the time that remained, so she would be taking this same journey as a bride before year’s end.

  Only after she took her place did she dare glance over at the man standing beside the marquess—his younger brother, Lord Andrew Mabry. Or she’d intended to merely glance over, but his gaze captured and held hers as effectively as if he’d secured it with rope and locked it behind bars. From the moment she’d met him one night at the theater in May, she’d had a difficult time breaking eye contact with him once it was made. Like his brother’s, his eyes were blue but there was a stormy quality to them as though he relished flirting with danger, with impropriety. Rumor had it that he’d recently been involved with an actress. Common knowledge was that he never intended to marry, which made mothers wary of him and young girls heed the warnings to steer clear of him.

  Not that she needed any warnings. He made her insides feel funny, her skin warm, her toes curl, her nerve endings tingle—and all of that was with a few feet separating them.

  Besides she had her heart set on marrying a titled gentleman. Pity, for Lord Andrew to become titled Gina’s sister would have to become a sonless widow. Tillie had experienced too many unhappy years for Gina to wish such a dreadful outcome on her.

  Still she couldn’t deny something about Lord Andrew called to the wanton in her, especially when his perusal was as leisurely as it was now, and she could imagine that in his mind he was slowly unfastening each button, giving laces their freedom, easing her gown off her shoulders, tugging it down until her breasts sprung free and that luscious wicked looking mouth of his could close around a pearled nipple. She knew it would be pearled because they always puckered when he was near, when his gaze dipped, leaving her with the impression he knew precisely what she looked like beneath her clothing.

  Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” suddenly burst forth in a crescendo from the organ, breaking the sensual spell into which she’d fallen. Grateful for the excuse to turn her attention to the back of the church, she watched as her uncle led her sister in her lovely lilac gown—white being forbidden since it wasn’t her first marriage—up the aisle. At that moment, she missed her parents more than she thought possible. Her mother had passed a few years earlier, her father a little over a year ago. With his death, she and Tillie had acquired a fortune, would continue to receive an annual income from her family’s firearms company. It was the reason she could fairly dictate whom she would marry. It gave her power. She could even set her sights on a prince if she so desired. Perhaps she would.

  Tillie was marrying a marquess who would one day inherit a dukedom. Her sister would become a duchess. Gina thought it would be grand to acquire that rank as well. Sister duchesses—what fun that would be. Although truth be told, she’d settle for a pauper if he caused her to radiate as much happiness as Tillie did now, gliding toward her.

  Her sister deserved this joy. Her first marriage had resulted in a scandalous divorce that had seen her tossed out on her ear by the aristocracy. Gina had no doubt this marriage would last until the end of time.

  The love with which Rexton gazed at his bride as she took her place beside him no doubt had every woman within the church sighing with longing for the same sort of adoration to be cast her way. Gina certainly did.

  She wanted what Tillie had, was determined to acquire it.

  Family obligation and love for his brother kept Lord Andrew Mabry—the ducal spare—tethered to the altar when he’d rather be anywhere else. Wedding ceremonies were so blasted boring, seemed to go on forever, and had no luck holding his attention.

  Miss Virginia Hammersley on the other hand—

  He was struggling to ignore her, to not be caught staring at her while envisioning all the lovely alabaster and pink skin that existed beneath the white gown decorated in pearls. His thoughts were entirely inappropriate, and he knew if Rex discerned their direction that at the end of this torturous ceremony Andrew would be fending off his brother’s fists. The marquess was incredibly protective of Gina, had been striving to assist her in finding a husband—until he’d fallen head over heels in love with her sister.

  Andrew was a great believer in love. How could one not be when raised by parents who ad
ored each other? Still, he thought it a waste to focus all the emotion on one person. He preferred to spread it around. Recently he’d fancied an actress, before her a shop clerk, before that a barmaid, an artist, a writer, a harpist, and a coalminer’s daughter. She’d been his first. He couldn’t smell coal burning without thinking of her fondly.

  But then he thought of them all fondly, always ended things on good terms. Well, almost always. There was one exception that he tried very hard not to remember.

  Gina Hammersley was different. Different from the others. Different from anyone he’d ever known. He couldn’t quite figure out why. Perhaps because she was forbidden, untouchable, the sort of woman with whom a man didn’t dally. Sterling reputation, scandal free, destined for the altar. A lass who would cling to her virginity until her wedding night. Not the kind he was at all interested in getting to know.

  Still, he surreptitiously slid his gaze over to her. She was an elfin thing, petite, delicate. She watched the couple exchanging vows as though she’d never seen or heard anything so wonderful in her entire life. He had an insane urge to show her something far more marvelous: the world from atop a mountain, a slow journey down the Nile, pyramids, the Taj Majal, Paris, Rome. A kiss. A touch. Pleasure. The possibilities began spinning through his mind, as he imagined her looking up at him with the adoration she now bestowed upon his brother and his bride.

  But he knew the truth of her: she was for only fantasies and dreams. She desired rank and title. He was merely the spare. While she might intrigue him, she was a challenge he could not accept.

  A somewhat quiet yet intense throat clearing jerked him from his reverie, and he found himself gazing into eyes very similar to his, issuing a rebuke, revealing a bit of impatience. Right. The ring. He dug it out of his waistcoat pocket and dropped it into his brother’s waiting palm. As Rex turned away, Andrew was left with the distinct impression the marquess was aware of the direction his thoughts had wandered, in which case he’d no doubt receive a lecture following the breakfast celebration. Not that he’d pay it much heed.

  He shifted his attention back to Miss Hammersley. Tears were welling in her eyes. Why the deuce did women weep at moments such as this, when a man was being shackled for life? It should be the man crying, because all the joy was going to be drained from his life.

  Chapter 2

  “You’re to stay away from Gina.”

  Standing in a far corner of the terrace, sipping scotch as darkness descended, Andrew didn’t even bother to glance over at his brother. “Shouldn’t you be off bedding your wife by now?”

  The day had been infernally long. The wedding breakfast—he didn’t know why it was labeled as such when it had occurred in early afternoon—had gone on forever. Following that, a host of young ladies had demonstrated their mastery of the pianoforte. Although for some, mastery was a generous overstatement. And now a ball was underway, with no plans for it to come to an end until midnight. If he were to slip away for more entertaining endeavors would his absence be noted?

  “Tillie is changing into her traveling attire as we speak. We’re going to Kingsbrook Park for a few days.” Rexton raised horses at his personal estate. Both he and his now-wife were mad about equines and racing. “While we’re away you’re to avoid Gina.”

  “I don’t require a warning. I have no interest in the girl.”

  “That’s untrue. I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at her all day.”

  After tossing back what remained of his scotch, Andrew faced his brother. “What was I supposed to do when the entire day has been naught but shoving her into my path? Ignore her when I’m standing across from her at the church, sitting beside her during breakfast—”

  “There was a hunger in your eyes.”

  “I was bloody famished! We didn’t eat until early afternoon. Why call it a breakfast if it’s not served shortly upon awakening?”

  Rexton released a long-suffering sigh. “Andrew, I’m deadly serious. Gina is an innocent, and you are far too worldly for her. It is my intention to help her find a suitable husband when we return.”

  “Like Somerdale.” He scoffed. The man had been fawning over Gina every moment she wasn’t at Andrew’s side. When it was her turn at the pianoforte, he’d even gone up to turn the sheets of music for her like he was a besotted swain. The display of false devotion had very nearly caused Andrew to cast up his accounts. “She won’t be happy with him.”

  “Her happiness is not your concern.”

  “I disagree. She’s part of the family now.”

  “Not. Your. Concern. Steer clear of her.”

  He was in need of more scotch. “As I stated earlier, she doesn’t interest me in the least. And as you’ve stated, she is an innocent, which makes her unappealing. I suspect the girl has never even been kissed. What use would I have for her when I prefer my women to be knowledgeable in the ways of men? Trust me, Brother, any glances or attention I bestowed upon her today was done out of politeness only. In the future, keep her away from me, so I’m not put in the position of having to be graciously attentive. It’s bothersome. Especially as she is remarkably dull.”

  Dull, was she?

  Not wanting her presence known, Gina stepped back into the shadows. She’d been sent to find her brother-in-law to let him know his wife was ready to depart. As a result she’d overheard far more of that irritating conversation than she would have liked. And to think: she’d judged Lord Andrew Mabry charming. Instead he was a boor. An oaf. Totally unsuitable for her.

  Not that she’d been considering him as a possible love interest. She knew he had no wish to marry, while she had no wish to not marry. They’d never suit. Lord Somerdale, however, was another matter entirely. She could be happy with him. She would be happy with him. If he ever asked for her hand. His attentiveness seemed to come and go as frequently as she changed frocks.

  She fought back the doubts stirred by Lord Andrew’s words and Somerdale’s failure to commit. She’d long feared that her inability to attract an assortment of beaux after her coming out had nothing to do with Tillie’s scandal, but in fact was a result of her lacking in some regard. All of eleven when her mother uprooted her from New York and brought her to England so her older sister could snag herself a lord, Gina had spent a good part of the early years striving to fit in. Eventually she’d fallen in love with her adopted homeland and became enamored of the aristocratic life. But still she was haunted by comparisons of Tillie’s first Season to hers.

  Tillie had been the belle of the balls, her favors sought by every bachelor in search of a wife—and even a few who weren’t—her dance card always filled, flowers and chocolates delivered every day. It had been wondrous to witness, and she’d assumed she’d have the same sort of Season. Instead she’d spent the first two months of her first Season floundering, a wallflower for the most part. She tried not to take it personally but it was a bit difficult to do when one was easily hurt by the uncaring of others.

  Or when one overheard conversations one shouldn’t.

  Hearing footsteps, she shrunk back against the shrubbery until she was certain she couldn’t be seen. Holding her breath, she watched as Rexton strolled by. She was delighted the marquess intended to honor his promise to assist her in finding the proper gentleman to marry. She was equally delighted that after tonight, she would be able to limit her association with Lord Andrew. The hastily arranged preparations and all of the day’s activities had kept them within close proximity. But no more. She had no wish to be in the company of a man who thought her dull.

  On the other hand, perhaps she’d accept the challenge of proving him wrong.

  Unnoticed, she slipped away to join her sister in the front parlor. Rexton was there, gazing on Tillie as though she were a marvel he absolutely could not get enough of.

  “Ah, there you are,” Gina said brightly—probably too brightly in retrospect. “I was searching for you in the library.”

  Not at all true, but she wasn’t going to leave him with t
he impression she might have eavesdropped.

  “I was on the terrace,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t have thought to look there.”

  Tillie narrowed her eyes as though she suspected Gina of lying.

  “Shouldn’t you take your leave now?” Gina asked quickly, hoping to avoid an inquisition.

  With a soft smile, Tillie walked over and hugged her. “Thank you for everything, dear sister.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Rex and I wouldn’t be together if not for you.”

  Pleasure warmed her face. “I’m just glad you finally moved beyond your past. I should let people know you’re about to leave.”

  “You’re to stay here while we’re away,” Tillie said.

  With Rexton’s parents, the Duke and Duchess of Greystone. “I don’t really see that it’s necessary I stay the entire time.” Although she had brought a trunk with some of her belongings.

  “You’re a single woman. It wouldn’t do for you to be at Landsdowne Court alone.”

  Gina had long resided at her sister’s grand and lovely residence. “I wouldn’t be alone. The servants are there.”

  “This is the best way to protect your reputation.”

  Which was crucial if she was to have any hope at all of snagging a proper gentleman.

  “Besides, no one says no to my mother,” Rexton said.

  “It seems like a lot of bother.”

  “Please? So I don’t worry,” Tillie pleaded.

  Gina rolled her eyes. “All right. I want you to enjoy your wedding trip without fretting about me.”

  “I’ll still have some unease, just not as much. You’re my little sister.”

  “You’ll be well looked after here,” Rex said.