Page 7 of Desperately Seeking Seduction

“Any wonder Ravenswood is not sleeping anymore.”

“The stuff of nightmares,” Stratford agreed, nodding.

“So, to business,” Nash said briskly. “Jasper, quickly check the hall for Cousin George again. He’s been trailing after the duke and trying to get a private interview with him all day.”

Jasper checked and came back grinning. “All clear.”

“The most money to be found is with either the Wellington, Fairbridge or Knox families.”

Stratford squinted, recalling the members of those families. “Only three women of suitable age to choose from among them. That’s a short list.”

“The duke requires a bride equal to the honor of becoming his duchess, too. Only the best will do,” Nash assured them with a tight smile.

“Monied is all that really matters in the end,” Ravenswood countered. “There may be others who’ve fallen out of favor with society. Tell me anyone else you younger two can think of with a dowry nearing fifty-thousand pounds.”

Stratford mentioned any heiress he could remember having met but most were dowered much lower than needed. Jasper did the same. Between them, they added three more names for the duke’s consideration. Six was not a lot to choose from, either. Stratford did not envy his eldest brother. “Does that help?”

“Possibly,” Ravenswood remarked, grimacing and gesturing to the ledgers across his desk. “Now to the debts. Mr. Aston is owed a significant sum.”

“If only he had a daughter to marry to reduce the debt. Let us hope he might have forgotten about the money owed to him,” Jasper murmured.

“If he’d had a daughter, we’d have heard about it already,” the duke said dryly. “But I wouldn’t count on any surprise offspring from him given the fraught state of his marriage in recent years.”

Between them, they racked their brains to settle on a short list of who they thought might be the next richest heiresses in England. When the duke dismissed them to their beds, he asked Stratford to remain behind.

Algernon winced as soon as the others were gone. “Not the triumphant homecoming I’d planned for you all to enjoy,” he said by way of apology.

“No, I suppose not but at least I had the joy of watching Cousin George’s face when you introduced Mr. and Mrs. Crawford on the lawn today.”

Ravenswood laughed softly. “Yes, that was a definite high point of the day, seeing him nearly frothing at the mouth like the dog he is. He can do nothing about it now.”

“Crawford should have told me he fancied her,” Stratford complained. “Had I known it was him that ruined her, I would have said something.”

Ravenswood put a restraining hand on his arm. “Crawford would have been shot. George already hated him.”

“The feeling is mutual, I’m sure.”

“Yes. Cousin Amity saved herself an unpleasant marriage that night, and we can be thankful she’s now married to a rich man she seems to love. At least I don’t have to worry for her future.”

He caught a hint of wistfulness in the duke’s tone. A love match was not on the cards for his elder brother or for Stratford either. “I’m sorry about all this, brother.”

Algernon nodded. “As am I. Listen, I can do without that little country house you love. I know you were looking forward to escaping there to paint.”

“Sweet men keep their promises no matter what,” he insisted. “Are you going to deny me my art while I live here, like father tried to do?”

“Why would I do that? Where else might I commission the expected portrait of myself without incurring another blasted debt?” he said, wearing a weary grin.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Stratford warned but was pleased as punch he was first choice for the artist to paint the newly anointed duke. He’d painted his brothers many times before and looked forward to making this brother appear more regal than he already was. But he also understood he was only getting the commission because he’d work for free. “At present, I have a commission to finish. I’ve sketched Lady Newport any number of times, however, her husband requires a much larger canvas done.”

Algernon sighed. “So, you will not be staying with us for long then?”

“You do not get rid of me that easily, brother,” he said, laughing. “I’m doing the work here and sending word to Newport to come fetch it. That had already been discussed and agreed upon since before I heard Father had died.”

Ravenswood groaned and plucked at his black waistcoat. “I thought his death would make my life easier.”

Stratford patted his shoulder. “It will be. One day soon, I promise.”

“Forever the optimist, little brother,” Ravenswood complained, messing up Stratford’s hair again.