Olivia Drake - Seducing the Heiress

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S EDUCING
THE H EIRESS

S EDUCING
THE H EIRESS

OLIVIA DRAKE

St. Martins Paperbacks

NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.SEDUCING THE HEIRESSCopyright 2009 by Barbara Dawson Smith.All rights reserved.For information address St. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.ISBN: 978-0-312-94345-5Printed in the United States of AmericaSt. Martins Paperbacks edition / December 2009St. Martins Paperbacks are published by St. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

CHAPTER 1

Colin Byrd, Viscount Ratcliffe, was on the prowl for a wife. He intended to snare the richest heiress of the London Season.Halting his mount in the night-darkened alleyway, he glanced at the mansion beyond the trees. The faint lilt of a waltz drifted from the open windows, the squares of golden light glowing against the black monolith of the house. How ironic that he would make his conquest right under the nose of the Duke of Albright.An unholy zeal gripped Colin. He would like nothing better than to come face-to-face with the longtime enemy of his family. It would give him great pleasure to fell the bastard with one blow.But not tonight.Tonight, Colin was on the hunt. His quarry was femaleone girl in particular. She was young and vulnerable, and her low status as a commoner would make her all the more susceptible to a noblemans calculated charm.His charm.He dismounted, his booted feet landing on the narrow lane that led to the stables. As he fastened the reins to a post, the nag whiffed softly in the darkness, nudging his hands for a lump of sugar.Colin rubbed her nose. It was past time to put the ancient mare out to pasture. But he couldnt afford to replace her. Yet.Hang on, old girl, he murmured. If all goes well, youll have plenty of oats in your future.Leaving the horse tethered in the shadows, he paced to the stone wall and peered into the gloom of the garden. The mews was quiet, in contrast to the front of the mansion where a long line of vehicles circled the square and coachmen gathered around makeshift fires to ward off the April chill. Albrights ball marked the opening of the Season. Every member of the ton was here, and that would work to his advantage. It should be simple to blend in with the hordes of aristocrats. He was one of them himselfeven if his blackened reputation had barred him from their gatherings.Because of that, he lacked the requisite invitation to enter by the front door. But he wouldnt let such a minor complication stop him.At the rear gate, he lifted the latch and slipped into the formal garden with its dim paths arranged in geometric shapes. As he started toward the house, a clear sense of purpose fueled him: find his prey and isolate her. And in the doing, avoid Albright. Colin knew that if he encountered the duke, hed be thrown out into the street. His plans would be ruined. But he could notwould notfail.Too much depended upon his success tonight.Miss Portia Crompton knew shed said the wrong thing the instant the words left her lips. The shocked stares of the aristocrats sitting at the supper table proved the rashness of her comment.Lady Whittingham arched a thin gray eyebrow. Mrs. Beardsley scowled, a forkful of roast partridge clutched in her plump fingers. Her daughter, Miss Frances Beardsley, a blond china doll clad in pale pink, uttered a breathy squeak of horror.Bite your tongue. In her head, Portia could hear her mothers scolding voice. Similar rebukes had been directed at Portia many times over the past year while she had been preparing for this, her grand entry into London society at the Duke of Albrights ball. She was to engage in polite chitchat about the weather, the splendor of the ballroom, and other dull topics.She was not to mention any of her experiences growing up in India.Youve bagged a tiger? asked the Marquess of Dunn, straightening his gangly form in his chair. How extraordinary.Lord Wrayfords pale blue eyes goggled in his florid face. By gad, Miss Crompton, you must be a crack shot. You make our fox hunting tales sound tame by comparison.If only Id been there, the Honorable Henry Hockenhull said fervently. The third son of an earl, he had auburn hair and a youthful freckled face above an elaborate cravat. I vow I would have protected you with my life!For the first time, Portia noticed it was only the ladies who looked disapproving. The three gentlemen at the small round table cast admiring looks at her. But she refused to be flattered by their fawning attention. Although the mirror in her bedchamber this evening had reflected a pleasing transformation, she knew it was her outrageously large dowry that fascinated them the most. If not for her fathers richesearned in trade overseasshe would never have been admitted to their exalted circle. These aristocrats were willing to overlook common blood for one reason alone: wealth.Little did they know, Portia had no intention of marrying an English nobleman. Absently, she fingered the tiny gold key that dangled from her bracelet. She had a plan for her future. A risky plan she had kept secret even from her beloved younger sisters.Do tell us about this hunt, commanded Lord Dunn. You must have suffered a terrible fright.Just like that, Portia was transported back to the humid heat of the jungle, seeing the tiger burst out of the thick underbrush, hearing its guttural snarl, smelling the pungent reek of musk and gunpowder. She had fired on instinct, her senses honed by the long hours of instruction from Arun. Only afterward had she become aware of her pounding heart and weak knees. She had stood over the magnificent carcass, shaken yet exultant at having killed the man-eater that had terrorized several villages.There was no time to be afraid, she said. It all happened rather quickly. It was a long time ago. Two years. A lifetime. A world away from this gilded dining chamber with its high vaulted ceiling and elegantly attired guests. Nostalgia vanished as she spied her mother at a corner table, glaring in her direction. Er, the weather is rather chilly this evening, is it not?Her attempt to change the subject failed miserably.Hunting tigers, huffed Mrs. Beardsley. Her rotund form encased in brown silk, she resembled the sausage on her overloaded plate. Its a wonder your parents would allow such behavior.It wasnt their fault, Portia felt obliged to say. They didnt know where Id gone.Indeed! Were you permitted to roam at will through the countryside?And in such a heathen land! old Lady Whittingham said in a quavering tone.I would never dream of behaving in so improper a manner, Frances Beardsley added. Of course, I had a genteel upbringing. She batted her pale lashes at the men, but their attention remained fixed on Portia.India sounds dashed exciting, Henry Hockenhull said wistfully. Were I not destined to enter the clergy, I should have liked to have gone there myself, as an officer in the cavalry, perhaps. I believe I would have made a first-rate commander.The Marquess of Dunn leaned forward to block the young man from Portias view. The exotic locale only seems to have nurtured the delicate flower of your beauty, Miss Crompton. Perhaps after supper you would consent to another dance with meHave you ever seen a cobra, Miss Crompton? Lord Wrayford interrupted in a bid to forestall his rivals. Ive heard there are magicians who can coax a snake out of a basket by playing a flute.Portia had witnessed much more than that. She could regale them for hours with stories of mad dogs running wild, of holy men in turbans and women in colorful saris, of riding through the jungle on the back of an elephant. With all her heart, she yearned to return there. Yes, I often saw snake charmers perform in the bazaar. They would sit cross-legged on the ground and play a tune on aNext page