Free The Counterfeit Betrothal by April Kihlstrom Page A

Hastings that she often attended alone or in the company of friends, both male and female. In another woman this might have given rise to gossip, but Mrs. Hastings was far too upright for that. She was, one might have said, the perfect choice to launch a young lady upon her social career.
    Jeremy said something of the sort as they made their way to White’s later that evening.
    “And that is why I suggested it,” Edward replied bluntly. “M’mother will know how to take Miss Delwyn in hand and introduce her about even if she is betrothed to you.”
    “Ought I to take that as an insult?” Jeremy asked his friend evenly.
    “How can you?” Edward retorted. “You’ve spent the last eight years doing nothing but trying to prove you’re the wildest fellow in London. It ain’t your fault you didn’t succeed. But to complain to me now of your reputation would be the outside of enough!”
    “I have been wild, haven’t I?” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “Well, my father is determined to change that and I begin to wonder if perhaps he isn’t right.”
    “Here, here!” Hastings said in mock alarm. “You ain’t sick, are you? Feverish, p’rhaps? Next you’ll be telling me you mean to wed Miss Delwyn after all.”
    Jeremy laughed harshly. “You forget, she has already refused me. Not that I am not grateful for the escape. I need no such determined woman about me; far better that I should find someone biddable whom I can leave behind in the country and who I may be sure will not interfere with my pleasures.”
    “Oh, certainly,” Hastings agreed dryly, “and never mind the boredom.”
    “Enough,” Jeremy said in a dangerously quiet voice. “You’ve made your point and we are almost at White’s. Do try to recollect our purpose tonight.” As the two young men entered White’s they immediately found themselves surrounded by Jeremy’s friends. They were, without exception, heedless rakes and gamblers and miscreants.
    “Jeremy!” one of them called out, his voice showing the effects of more than a little wine. “To be leg-shackled at last, are you?”
    “Did you hear of Ware’s latest scandal?” someone else said, trying to avert a fight.
    “Care to wager on the race to Brighton to be held next Wednesday, Barnett?”
    With something akin to dismay, Jeremy realized that there was not a one among them he could have introduced to Emmaline with pride. With unaccustomed curtness he excused himself from their company, saying, “Sorry, my friends. I am pledged to respectability for the next few months. Certainly until after my nuptials. And if you have been wagering that the notice in the Gazette was an error, have a care to your pockets.”
    Amid good-natured curses, Barnett and Hastings moved on into another room of the club. Edward only had time to murmur, “You lie very well,” before they were met with frosty stares.
    More than one member of White’s had been heard to state that Jeremy Barnett ought never to have been admitted to the club. Still, one or two came forward, if a trifle reluctantly, to wish him well. “Congratulations, Barnett. I own I am astonished to hear you are to wed Delwyn’s daughter,” Lord Alvanley said, a note of interest to his voice.
    “Thank you, m’lord,” Jeremy replied coolly, refusing to say more.
    Another member said bluntly, “I trust you will not be offended, Barnett, if I say that the girl deserves far better than you.”
    “How can I be offended when I quite agree?” Jeremy replied with a simper.
    Recognizing the signs of his friend’s rising temper, Edward intervened hastily, “That’s as may be, Jeremy, but the young lady appears to consider herself fortunate.”
    “The more fool she!” another member snorted. Jeremy raised his quizzing glass to his eye and spoke grimly. “Ah, Crandall, but that is precisely where you are out! The last word one might use with respect to Miss Delwyn is fool. And may I remind you that I am her fiancé and that I might