You, and Only You (16 page)

“Alex-”

Turning around before Nick could say anything more, he
headed for the door.
 
“I’ll see you later
this evening,” he called over his shoulder, pulling the door closed behind him
with a resounding thud.

Walking down the long hallway, he was almost to the stairs
when he came upon a group of gentlemen exiting the game room.
 
Melborne was amongst them.

“Hello there, Chesterfield,” several of them called out.

“Good day, gentlemen,” he replied with a polite nod.

“Where the devil have you been hiding yourself all
afternoon?” Henry Exeter queried.
 

Henry was a pleasant enough chap and Alex had long-counted
him amongst his friends.
 
They had
attended Eton at the same time, and had enjoyed the occasional misadventure
together during their younger years.
 
“I’ve hardly been hiding,” Alex answered with a wry smile.
 
“Clearly you just haven’t been looking in the
right places.”
 

Henry chuckled, as did the others.

“Melborne, I wonder if I might have a word,” Alex said
nonchalantly, directing his gaze to the marquess.
 
Although he hadn’t intended to seek Melborne
out just yet, there was really no sense in prolonging the inevitable.

“Of course.”

Alex had just passed the library and knew that it was
unoccupied.
 
“Perhaps we could speak
privately in the library.”

William nodded his assent.

“Will you excuse us, gentlemen?” Alex said to the others.

After entering the library, he and Melborne seated
themselves upon the leather wingback chairs that had been placed in front of
the huge, ornately-carved marble fireplace.

Alex spoke first, getting straight to the point.
 
“I am prepared to offer you triple what the
land is worth.”

William adjusted his position in the chair.
 
Crossing his arms across his chest, his
expression was unyielding.
 
“You know my
terms, Chesterfield.
 
They are not
negotiable.”

Alex fought the overwhelming urge to reach out and throttle
the older man.
 
“Your
terms
are outrageous,” he bit out
indignantly.

“Nonetheless, they are the only terms that I will
accept.”
 
The marquess’ expression
remained unchanged, his tone uncompromising.

Alex eyed him in disbelief.
 
“You know why I want the land, Melborne.
 
Does that mean nothing to you?”

William ignored the question.
 
“Honestly Chesterfield, are my terms really
so unappealing?” he continued before Alex had a chance to respond.
 
“You’ll need to marry at some point, and not
only is my daughter born of impeccable lineage, but she is quite attractive as
well.
 
The way I see it, you win either
way.”
 
His greying eyebrows rose ever so
slightly.
 
“In the grand scheme of things,
what have you got to lose?”

My freedom, my
independence, my carefree, unfettered lifestyle
, Alex thought to himself.
 
Aloud he said, “And what would your daughter
think of all this, her future determined by the turn of a card?”
  

“What my daughter thinks or doesn’t think, need not concern
you,” William said, his features tightening ever so slightly.
 
“Tiffany will do exactly as she is told to
do, just as she always has.”

Or suffer the
consequences
, Alex imagined.
 
He
ground his teeth together to keep from saying something he might later regret,
but even though he held his tongue, his impression of William Marlowe grew even
more distasteful by the second.
 
Clearly
he cared nothing for the countless children who could benefit from the sale of
the land that he was so callously using as a bargaining chip.
 
But did the man care nothing for his own
daughter, his only child?
 
The thought of
Tiffany, so delightfully innocent and ingenuous, treated in such an uncaring,
cold-hearted manner by her own father made him feel both sickened and
infuriated.
 

“So, what is it going to be, Chesterfield?
 
Do you agree to my terms or not,” William
asked, clearly growing impatient.
 

Hell no!
 
I do
not
accept your terms, you miserable bastard, he wanted to shout in Melborne’s
ruddy face.
 
Clenching his hands into
fists at his sides, his thoughts seemed to be waging an internal battle within
his head.
 
He rose to his feet.
 
Turning his back on the marquess, he shoved
his hands into his pockets and walked over to the nearest window.
 
Looking outside, he focused his gaze upon the
branches of a nearby maple tree, watching as its leaves blew gently in the
wind.

Damn Melborne for stringing him along for so long, he
fumed.
 
In addition to his unremitting
desire to help the children, the bloody land acquisition had become a sort of
challenge between them, a contest to be won or lost.
 
And truth be told, if there was one thing he
hated, it was losing, especially to an unworthy opponent like William
Marlowe.
 
But to gamble his future on the
mere turn of a card, it was insanity.
 

He closed his eyes, sighing heavily.
 
It was a mistake.
 
For behind his lids the image of Tiffany
lying beneath him as she had just hours ago, her beautiful face flushed with
desire and awakening passion, invaded his thoughts without warning, feeling
much like an unexpected punch to the gut.
 
He heard a sound behind him then, Melborne rising from his chair.
 
He needed to make a decision and he needed to
make it now.
 

Opening his eyes, he turned from the window and met the
marquess’ inquiring gaze.
 
“I agree to
your terms,” he said after a long pause, his voice completely devoid of
inflection.

Having summoned one of the Leighton’s footmen to fetch a
deck of cards, Alex and William had then moved to sit across from one another
at a small, square table in the corner of the library.
  
Now, as they awaited the man’s return, the
silence between them grew increasingly uncomfortable.
 

Alex tried to distract himself with the plans he had for the
property he was about to acquire, for win or lose, the land would finally be
his.
 
However, as much as he tried, he
couldn’t seem to keep thoughts of Tiffany from breaking into his silent
ponderings.
 
Within minutes his fate
would be determined.
 
Was Tiffany Marlowe
destined to become his wife or would his exasperating dealings with William
Marlowe finally come to an end with his bachelorhood intact?
 
Though he understood what would happen if he
lost, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if William lost.
 
What would Tiffany’s fate be then?
 
Would William seek yet another way to use his
daughter to bolster his bleak financial state of affairs?
 
With her incredible beauty, grace and charm,
Tiffany would surely be viewed as a worthy prize for any man.
 
Would her father take her to London
then?
 
Parading her before all of the
wealthy, single gentlemen, seeking to marry her off to the highest bidder
without a thought to her wishes?
 
Recalling William’s words from earlier,
Tiffany will do exactly as she is told to do, just as she always has
,
he felt his stomach drop.
 
Agitatedly, he
began to drum his fingers atop the table.

Minutes later, when the door finally opened, it was not the
young footman who entered the room, but the Duke of Sethe.

“I happened upon Owen in the hall,” Nicholas said in way of
explanation, as he held up an unopened deck of cards.
 
“The two of you didn’t get your fill of cards
last night?”
 

His friend’s expression was noticeably perplexed as he
glanced back and forth between him and William.
 
“We’ll only be playing one hand,” Alex informed him.
 

Nicholas’ brow rose questioningly.
 
“A wager?”

Alex’s tone was impassive, his expression composed.
 
“It’s a private matter, I’m afraid.”

“I see,” Nicholas responded, though it was clear he had no
idea as to what the two of them were about.

“Since he’s here, perhaps we should ask His Grace to serve
as witness, in addition to dealing the cards?” William suggested.
 

They had agreed earlier to allow the footman to do both of
those things, but Alex saw no reason that Nicholas could not perform the
tasks.
 
“Would you mind?” he asked.

“Not at all.”

Retrieving the written terms that he and Alex had both
signed from his jacket pocket, William folded the single sheet of paper so that
only their signatures at the bottom were visible.
 
Laying it atop the table, he indicated the
line directly above the word witness.
 

Fetching a pen from the nearby writing desk, Nicholas signed
his name dutifully atop the line.
 
“One
hand?” he asked, as William refolded the document and placed it within his
pocket once again.

Both men nodded.

“The game?”

“Bluff.”

“I’ll fetch a chair.”
 
Nicholas walked toward the two wingback chairs flanking the fireplace,
dragging one of them across the carpet and positioning it between the two
men.
 
Breaking the seal on the cards, he
then fanned them out face up across the table.

After looking them over, Alex and William both nodded their
approval.

Gathering the cards into his hands, Nicholas expertly
shuffled the deck and then dealt the cards one by one.

Once all of the cards had been dealt, both Alex and William
lifted them from the table and silently studied their hands.

Though he made no outward indication, Alex was more than
pleased with the cards he’d been dealt.
 
Tossing two of his cards aside, he waited for William to make his
decision.
 
The marquess hesitated a
moment, and then pitched three of his own cards to the side.

After Nicholas had dealt the remaining cards, Alex watched
William closely as he viewed his final hand.
 
Unfortunately, he’d only played at the same table as the marquess a
handful of times over the years, and therefore hadn’t developed a good read on
the man.
 
However, he was adept at
picking up the smallest signals from his opponents and didn’t miss the brief,
nearly indiscernible flicker of relief that glinted in William’s eyes.
 
The marquess had a strong hand.
 
Glancing at his own cards, he kept his
features completely inscrutable as he evaluated his hand, giving nothing away,
a talent he’d long-ago perfected.

Staring fixedly at Alex’s face, William laid his cards face
up upon the table.
 
Though his expression
was confident, Alex detected a hint of fear in the older man’s demeanor.
 
The marquess wanted the win badly, perhaps
even desperately.
 
Alex looked down once
again, staring blankly at the cards he held in his hand.
 
This was it.
 
His future would be foretold the moment he laid down his cards.

“Alex?”

He looked up, meeting Nick’s questioning gaze.
 
He said nothing.
 
Turning back to the marquess, he eyed the man
silently for a moment, wondering if the contempt and loathing he felt for the
man was evident on his face.
 
Gathering
his cards together, he placed the small stack upside down upon the table,
conceding his defeat.

William heaved an audible sigh of relief just before he
allowed a wide, smug grin to spread across his face.

“Congratulations, Melborne,” Alex said dispassionately.
 

William dipped his head in acknowledgement, still grinning
as he rose from his chair.
 
“I’ll be
traveling to London next week along with my daughter to attend to some business
matters,” he began.
 
“If you’ll be in the
city, we can discuss the final arrangements then.”

“As you wish,” Alex replied.
 
Sitting back in his chair, he casually folded his hands in his lap. “And
in regard to the other interested party?”

Clearly the marquess understood what he was asking.
 
“Until then, the nature of our business shall
remain strictly between the two of us.”

Alex nodded.
 

“If you will excuse me, Your Grace, Chesterfield,” he said,
nodding to each man in turn.
 
“I should
go and ready myself for the evening meal.”

“Of course,” Nicholas said, rising from his chair.

Alex said nothing, remaining seated as the marquess hastened
from the room.

Dropping back into his chair, Nicholas turned to Alex
expectantly.
 
“Well?
 
Would you care to tell me what the hell that
was all about?” he asked.

Alex sighed heavily before answering.
 
“No, actually I wouldn’t.”