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Nicola Cornick: Miss Verey’s Proposal

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Nicola Cornick Miss Verey’s Proposal

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Alex, the Duke of Delahaye, is determined to see his younger brother safely married to provide the necessary heir. Unfortunately the chosen bride, Miss Jane Verey, is less than amenable!

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Alex shrugged, indifferent again. ‘A Dukedom is perceived to be always in need of a Duchess,’ he said. ‘Unfortunately for the matchmakers, I am not in need of a wife! Which is where you enter the play, Philip!’

‘Damned if I see why I should marry just to oblige you!’ his brother said, aggrieved. ‘I know Madeline played fast and loose, and after she died you wanted no more to do with women! But you hold the Dukedom-you provide the heir! Damnation take it, there are hundreds of women panting after you!’

Alex Delahaye stretched, crossing one ankle over the other. ‘You’re wasting your time, Philip! I hold the purse strings and I want you to marry! It’s as simple as that. Now, you will renew your courtship of Miss Verey-’

‘I can’t do that!’

‘Because of your aversion to her appearance? You will find that there is more to marriage than a pretty face,’ his brother said coldly.

‘It’s not just that.’ Philip’s face was turned away, suddenly suffused with colour. ‘I have told everyone-told the others how it was with her. I shall be a laughing-stock if I renew my suit!’

‘The others? Whom?’ Alex’s voice cut like a whip.

‘Ponsonby and Malters and Cheriton,’ Philip muttered. ‘It seemed a good joke-Verey tricking you into agreeing an alliance between the Delahayes and that pudding-faced wench! They found it amusing, at any event…’

‘No doubt,’ Alex said, with biting sarcasm. He got to his feet, towering over his brother’s chair. ‘Your drinking cronies have seldom been graced with wit and taste! Well, you must make your choice, Philip! Either you are a rich laughing-stock or you are a penniless one!’

Philip was out of his chair in a second, confronting his brother. Alex had moved away and stood before the fireplace, one arm resting idly on the mantelpiece. He was the taller, which gave him an immediate advantage, but for once Philip was too angry to care.

‘Damn you for dictating my life,’ he said, real hatred lighting his blue eyes. ‘I wish you had died along with our parents!’

For a moment they stood as though frozen. Philip was the first to look away.

‘I’m going,’ he muttered, ‘and do not think to try and pass off one of your candidates for matrimony on to me again! Damned if I’ll ever marry, to oblige you or otherwise!’

‘Damned if you don’t,’ Alex said expressionlessly, moving over to the fireplace and pulling the bell for the butler. ‘Tredpole, my brother is just leaving. Be so good as to lock up after him. You may go to bed. I shall not need you again tonight.’

After the impassive Tredpole had shown Philip out, Alex resumed his seat but did not pick up the book that he had been reading. Instead, he sat staring into the dying embers of the fire.

Miss Jane Verey…She had been little more than a child when he had seen her at Ambergate, but she had seemed a pleasant and unaffected girl. Alex smiled a little as he remembered the first glimpse he had had of her, riding across the fields close to her home. She had had a good seat on the horse and was clearly enjoying both the fresh country air and the company of her brother, who rode alongside. She had seemed exactly the type of sensible girl who would best keep Philip’s wilder excesses in check. Lord Verey had been flatteringly eager for the alliance, but they had agreed to wait a few years for Jane to reach her eighteenth year. All had seemed set fair.

Verey’s death had thrown the plan slightly, but when the year of mourning had elapsed, Alex had been glad to find that the widow was still as receptive to the match. Philip had been giving increasing cause for concern over the years, with his deep play and unsuitable friends, and now that he had attained the age of four and twenty, Alex had decided it was high time that his brother settled down. Nor had Philip seemed particularly reluctant at first. Alex gave a rueful grimace. Money was the only currency that Philip understood and the inducements that he had offered alongside Miss Verey had obviously been attractive. More attractive than the girl herself, evidently!

Alex sighed. Perhaps he had been mistaken, in both Miss Verey and in the strength of Philip’s feelings. It was not always easy to know what was best in the matter of his brother and sisters. There had been an ageing roué whom his sister Eliza had sworn was the love of her life. Alex had disapproved of the man but had not liked to oppose the match when he could see that his actions made Eliza so unhappy. Yet the very next season she had met a young baronet and was now happily married and living in Herefordshire. The other two girls were also married and the middle brother, George, was serving with Wellington’s army. There was only Philip…

Alex strode over to the bureau beside the window. One of the desk drawers was half-open, a pile of papers almost spilling over the top. His expression hardened. Philip had been granted endless credit on the strength of the Delahaye fortune and now he was the one they were dunning for payment. He slammed the drawer closed, sending several of the bills tumbling onto the carpet. He would not stand for any more nonsense. The Verey match would be put forward once again and Philip forced to comply. Alex’s jaw tightened. His brother’s day of reckoning was approaching in more ways than one.

Chapter Two

‘It’s true, I’m afraid,’ Lady Eleanor Fane said bluntly. ‘It’s the on dit all over Town, Alex, even eclipsing poor Maria Scrope’s elopement with the footman! Everyone knows that Philip described Miss Jane Verey as an ugly, illiterate brood mare! Which,’ Lady Eleanor added fairly, ‘would be bad enough even without the rest!’

She removed her gloves, discarded her parasol and collapsed into an armchair with a heavy sigh.

Lady Eleanor, the Duke of Delahaye’s aunt and godmother, was one of the few women allowed past the portals of Haye House. Impeccably connected and with a wide circle of friends, Lady Eleanor often acted as the Duke’s eyes and ears in Society. And her intelligence system was faultless. Which was why Alex Delahaye did not interrupt, but simply waited for her to continue.

‘Lady Verey has brought her daughter up to Town,’ Lady Eleanor went on, reaching for the silver teapot and pouring herself a generous cup. ‘Jane is not out yet-she makes her debut at Almack’s next week. When I met Clarissa Verey in Bond Street she had not yet heard the rumours, but it can only be a matter of time before some spiteful scandalmonger stirs up trouble!’ She watched Alex’s face set in lines of deep displeasure. ‘The girl is practically ruined before she starts! It was the utmost folly of Philip to speak as he did.’

‘I know it.’ Alex got up from the desk and strode across to the window, hands in his pockets. ‘The foolish young cub! He could never resist bragging to his cronies. No doubt they all thought it a great jest, but if the Vereys hear of it-’

‘If! When!’ Lady Eleanor said energetically. ‘The presence of Jane Verey in Town will stir the gossip to a positive maelstrom! Oh, Clarissa Verey glossed over Philip’s desertion, claiming that the betrothal had been a mere suggestion rather than a definite match, but she will not be so kind when she hears what Philip has been saying about her daughter! And there is worse, Alex, far worse!’

Alex raised one black brow, a look of faint amusement on his face. ‘What could possibly be worse?’

‘Simon Verey has returned from the wars and is accompanying them to Town,’ Lady Eleanor said, grimly. ‘They are not without protection! If he should hear of the slur cast on his sister’s name-’

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