Read A Rival Heir for Free Online Page B

skilled, indeed.”
    “If you say so. Don’t really know the man myself. But Parton won the grays right and tight. He had all the cards that night. And Westwick was a bit foxed, if you ask me.”
    “Too bad. I think he bred the grays himself.”
    “Well, are you coming with me or not?” Hopkins asked, impatient to be off.
    Sir Hugh would have enjoyed the diversion, but he was not particularly fond of Parton. Seeing the grays in his possession would do nothing to uplift his spirits. “I have business at home. Another time.”
    “Can’t think why you should put business before pleasure, my dear fellow,” complained Hopkins. “Happen I’ll see you later at the rooms.”
    “No doubt. Emily has insisted on my escorting her.”
    Hopkins grinned. “Famous. Ask her to save a set for me.”
    “Oh, no. You’ll have to ask her yourself when we get there.”
    “A lot of help you are,” Hopkins grumbled as he strolled off toward town.
    * * * *
    Despite Emily’s earlier instructions via a much underscored note to her brother, she was not dressed for an evening out at the ballroom when Sir Hugh arrived for dinner. He raised his brows at the decorousness of her gown—a short tunic of white crepe over green sarcenet—as he raised her hand to his lips. “Charming, my dear Emily, but hardly what I expected to see you wearing. Are we not adjourning to the assembly rooms?”
    “I hadn’t a moment to send you a note, Hugh. Forgive me!”
    “But you did send me a note, Emily. And it very emphatically informed me that I was to escort you out this evening.”
    “No, I meant a second note. You see, Hugh, I ran into Lord Westwick this afternoon and have invited him to dine with us.”
    “Westwick? Hopkins was just speaking of him—lost his grays in a bet, I understand.”
    “I think it was disgraceful of Mr. Parton to take such advantage of him,” his sister said, giving a decided toss to her dark curls. “The poor man is still terribly bereaved.”
    “Then perhaps he shouldn’t have been gambling, my dear.”
    “Depend upon it, Parton is to blame. I haven’t the slightest doubt. Do you know the man, Hugh? He’s a very disagreeable fellow, and ugly to boot.”
    Sir Hugh regarded his sister with amusement. “Well, he is certainly deserving of your censure if he is ugly, Emily. How dare he?”
    “Oh, pooh. You know what I mean. He sneers and smirks and acts as though he’s king of the world.”
    “A very irritating habit, I admit.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Your inviting Westwick to dine did not perhaps involve my assisting him in any way to regain his pair, did it, Emily?”
    “No, no, of course not. That is hardly your responsibility.” Emily seated herself on the edge of a fragile chair, clasped her hands together, and bent toward him. “I have a plan.”
    “Oh, God. Spare me, my dearest sister. You know very well what straits your plans have always led you into.”
    “No! How can you say so? Why, only last year I devised the cleverest scheme for enticing Anna’s nursery maid away from her, and it has worked admirably. You’ve met the girl. She’s wonderful with Walter.”
    “Indeed! Well, if it’s a plan for acquiring domestic help, I hardly believe I am the one in whom to confide.”
    Emily grimaced. “I assure you it isn’t. It is a plan to recover your inheritance.”
    “Ah! I did not know that I’d lost it.” He cocked his head at her, more interested than he had hitherto acknowledged. “Did you discover something of importance when you shamelessly invaded the enemy’s territory, Emily?”
    She uttered a deep, expressive sigh. “That poor girl says she believes you to be Miss Longstreet’s heir.”
    “But you don’t believe her.”
    “As to that, I’m not sure. Let us say that Miss Longstreet has probably never indicated a change in her plans, so Miss Armstrong is bound to believe that her aunt intends to abide by her original intention.”
    “You know, Emily, I fear that you