I made up for it today. I went to her house and asked her father for her hand.”
“Dev!” Rachel’s green eyes, a warmer, feminine version of her brother’s, lit with delight. “You never did! Really? Oh, I am so happy. I liked Miss Upshaw on sight. I think she will make you a wonderful wife. I know this is the right thing—you will be so happy.”
“Not if my happiness depends on marrying her. She turned me down.”
“Turned you down?”
Devin chuckled. “Well, it soothes my wounded feelings somewhat to see you look so shocked at the notion. I am sure our esteemed mother will tell me that it serves me right.”
“Well, it probably does,” Rachel admitted. “But, oh, this is so disappointing. I had really hoped…”
“Don’t give up hope, my love. I have a plan.”
“A plan?” The look Rachel turned on him was tinged with suspicion. “What do you mean? A plan for what?”
“For turning the tables on our Miss Moneybags,” Devin replied lightly. “I intend to woo the chit. Get her to take back her refusal.”
Rachel frowned. “But why? I thought you didn’t want to marry her anyway? I would have thought you would be glad she turned you down.”
“Glad to have an American nobody tell me I was not good enough for her?” Devin asked coolly. “I think not, dear sister. I am happy not to shackle myself to her, but that doesn’t mean I was pleased to be rejected.”
Rachel’s frown deepened. “Devin…”
“What?” He looked at her with great innocence. “I thought you would be happy for me to make a push to fix her interest.”
“I would be if I thought you were serious. But it sounds as if it is a game for you, and it seems a cruel game.”
“Don’t worry about the American. Just think of all that lovely money waiting for us to snatch it up.”
“Devin! You make us sound so…”
“So what? Mercenary? Well, aren’t we? Haven’t we always been aimed in the direction of money? Was it not the prime objective of your marriage? And Caroline’s? Haven’t I always been the slackard who would not do his family duty of wedding an heiress? The Aincourt coffers, after all, are a bottomless pit.”
“I hate it when you talk that way,” Rachel said, her face saddening. “Caroline and Richard loved each other. He has been heartbroken ever since her death, and you know it.”
“I know.” His face softened a trifle. “And I am a wretch to remind you of your own sacrifice. Especially when I have always been too selfish to match it.”
“I don’t want you to sacrifice your life, Dev. I want your happiness. That is all that I care about.”
“Well, it will make me happy to win over your Miss Upshaw. And that is why I want you to have a party and invite her to it.”
“Have a party?”
“Yes. A party which I shall attend—and where I will endeavor to repair the damage I have done to Miss Upshaw’s opinion of me.”
Rachel gave her brother a long, considering look. The hard light in his eyes frightened her a little, and she wondered if she would be doing the American girl a serious disservice by helping Devin try to charm her into accepting him. But then she thought about Miss Upshaw and their conversation of the night before, and it occurred to her that Miranda Upshaw was capable of holding her own with anyone, including Devin.
“All right,” she said finally. “I shall throw a ball for Miss Upshaw. She can scarcely refuse to attend a party designed to introduce her to the Ton.”
“Thank you, dear sister.” Devin threw her a playful bow. “I am eternally in your debt.”
“I shall hold you to that promise,” Rachel retorted in the same vein, then added, more thoughtfully, “It will be interesting to see which one of you wins out.” Perhaps, with any luck, they both would.
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