A Gamble on Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

high-flying acquaintances in
the ton . But for all the
bonhomie he could display on occasion, no one ever quite knew what
Thomas was thinking. But this time . . . this time Charles had to
make him listen.
    But, first . . . a diversion.
    Mr. Saunders sat forward in his chair and
made an elaborate inspection of the walls of Thomas’s spacious
office, a well-appointed suite of rooms in a building close by the
Royal Exchange. “You’ve acquired another Turner, I see.”
    “ A good investment,” Mr. Lanning
returned shortly, as he swirled his signature with a bold hand at
the bottom of a long piece of parchment.
    “ Can’t say as I understand what you see
in his work. It’s like someone draped a houri ’s veil over a perfectly good landscape. Or
like a mist came down, obscuring all the good parts.” Charles shook
his head. “Take my word for it, Thomas, in twenty years’ time they
won’t be worth ha’penny on the pound.”
    “ If you have nothing more to say,
Charles, you may leave.”
    “ Don’t be a nodcock, Thomas. This is
important!”
    Slowly, Thomas Lanning rose to his full
six feet, one inch. He placed his large hands flat on top of his
desk and leaned down to glare at his friend. “I am a man of the
City,” he declared, biting out each word as if they were bullets.
“I do not want a country
house. I do not need a country
house. And, most particularly, I do not need an heiress who is such
an antidote she cannot find a husband.”
    “ Sir Gilbert swears to me she is not an
antidote,” Charles protested. “Her mother was ill for some time
before she passed on, and then her father, so she was unable to
make her come-out—”
    “ No! Stop nattering, Charles. I won’t
have her.”
    “ Her grandfather was a marquess. Old
Huntsham. Fine family.” Mr. Saunders was growing
desperate.
    “ If I wanted a wife, there is no lack
of candidates. I scarcely need you to play whoremonger.”
    Charles Saunders shot up out of his chair.
Though not as tall as his friend and employer, he still managed to
direct a lightning bolt of anger straight into Thomas’s stormy gray
eyes. “Miss Trevor is a lady of spotless character, with some of
the finest bloodlines in England. Her estate is considered a
gem—well-cared for, productive. You have no call to insult her . .
. or my judgment.”
    Thomas subsided into his chair, waving
Charles back into his as well. Idly, he tapped a finger on the
papers he had just signed, while he reined in his temper. “I have
heard all your arguments, Charles, but—for the last time—I have no
interest in marriage.”
    “ You didn’t let me get as far as why Miss Trevor is in immediate need
of a husband.” Mr. Lanning drew a harsh breath, which subsided into
a resigned wave of his hand. “She had two guardians, you see,” Mr.
Saunders began, “but one—Marcus Yelverton—passed on quite
unexpectedly. Dropped dead at an Assembly, straight in the middle
of a country dance. So now Miss Trevor and all that goes with her
are under the control of her uncle, Lord Hubert Trevor, who is not
about to let such a treasure slip through his fingers. He’s
pressing her to marry his son Twyford—”
    But Thomas wasn’t listening. “Yelverton?
Marcus Yelverton, the MP? Lives somewhere between Maidstone and
Tunbridge Wells?”
    “ That’s the one.”
    Thomas steepled his hands, his lips twitched
into a faint smile. “Your genius is usually infallible, Charles,
but in this instance I had begun to think you fit for Bedlam.” Mr.
Lanning’s smile broadened into a feral grin. “But you have redeemed
yourself. You may tell Miss Trevor’s solicitor that I will be
delighted to meet with her at her convenience.”
    Of course .
Silently, Charles swore at himself. What an idiot he had been to
think that a wealthy heiress with excellent bloodlines and a fine
estate would be of interest to Thomas Lanning. His friend’s
ambitions ran much higher than those of ordinary men. Thomas
already had wealth.