Free The Flip by Michael Phillip Cash Page B

heel and stalked away from the spot.
    Tessa’s mother introduced Gerald to Lady Pamela Winters, the duke of Eversham’s daughter. Tessa had inherited her mother’s good looks as well as her titian hair. Mrs. Hemmings was busty but not as tall as her daughter. She trilled when she put Lady Pamela’s gloved hand in Gerald’s and pushed them onto the dance floor. The duke’s daughter was visiting—quite a coup for the Hemmings family—and in need of a husband. Preferably a wealthy one to trade an old titled family name in exchange for a cash infusion. Gerald listened to her inane chatter as they glided on the polished parquet floor, his eyes never leaving the French doors.
    Tessa slipped in, her hair mussed, her fingers adjusting her dress. Their eyes met; abrittle smile graced her lips, her eyes were bright in her flushed face. Gerald sighed deeply. She was so beautiful. She was a jade, a flirt, but he just couldn’t get himself to care. It bothered both his parents, but Gerald knew his own mind, and the only woman on it was Tessa. He had known her for years; their families celebrated yearly events together as the premier social scions of the area. It seemed she always turned to him, using him for excuses to her parents when she broke the rules. Gerald sensed when she would need his protection and somehow always managed to be at the right place to bail her out. She was as mischievous as a kitten, as daring as a lion, and the only person in the world who touched his heart. He loved her to distraction, and though he knew she used him shamelessly, it didn’tdiminish the fierceness he felt for her.
    He handed Lady Pamela off to Kurt Hemmings, Tessa’s older brother and perhaps the lady’s future. Kurt bowed over her hand, his long auburn hair curling charmingly around his pale face. He was a poet, with brooding eyes coupled with a practiced air of ennui that drove females mad. Gerald looked at Lady Pamela’s faintly bovine face, noticing the vacant look, and wondered when she’d start to drool over the son of the house. A match made in heaven, they would have poetic, chesty, mildly bored children with cow-like eyes and placid personalities. He wondered what kind of offspring he would have with Tessa—if only she would hold still long enough for him to make her realize that he wouldmake her happy.
    A firm slap on his back returned him to the present. Frank Hemmings squeezed his shoulder. He was mildly drunk, his bloodshot eyes watching his son with distaste.
    “How is the general treating you, m’boy?” he inquired.
    Gerald turned to see the naked disdain on Hemmings’s face as he watched his son take out a handkerchief and wave it around as he recited one of his many poems.
    “Little Napoleon?” Gerald smiled, calling the general by his nickname. “He’s an interesting man.”
    “Do you call him that to his face? Didn’tthink so. Graduated top of his class. Organized the Illinois for me.”
    “He is a great leader. The men like him.”
    “When do you return?”
    “Monday next. I report to Washington.”
    “Proud of you, son. Right proud. You could have taken the easy way out, like some,” he sneered. “Chose to represent your house like a man.” He harrumphed. “What do you make of my boy?”
    “He’s young yet, Frank.”
    They stood in silence. Hemmings watched his son. Gerald stared at Tessa.
    “Step into the library with me. I have somebrandy and a cigar I’ve been saving for you. Not that schizer you like to smoke.” He motioned to the cigars resting under Gerald’s jacket.
    Tessa danced past them in the arms of yet another man, her face lit with joy. Their eyes met for an instant, and then she looked away. He couldn’t even hold her gaze for a long period of time. Both men observed her spinning past them to end one dance and begin another in a new set of arms.
    “Gerald,” Hemmings said abruptly, “I want a word with you.”
    Gerald followed the older man into the library, taking a