Winning her Hand Read online

  Winifred shook her head. “You’re not wrong. Eleanor mentioned something at the garden party. She said it was her mother’s idea to hold such a ball. Apparently, her mother was a bit miffed that Lord Hampton’s Christmas Ball was spoken of as legendary.” She smiled. “You know the Dowager Lady Stanhope. She tends to feel the need to surpass everyone.”

  Griffin laughed. “Very true. Shall we attend?”

  “I would like that.” It would certainly be a good opportunity to mingle and maybe spot a gentleman or two who would suit her.

  “What is this?” Griffin asked, peeking over her shoulder, a touch of incredulity mixed with the usual mockery in his voice.

  Flinching, Winifred jerked around in her chair to find a slow grin spread over her brother’s face. “Nothing that concerns you!” she snapped, then reached for the sheet of paper.

  Griffin, however, snatched it up as quick as a flash and immediately retreated to the other side of the room, his eyes eagerly roaming the page. “What is this? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was a list of your attributes. However, why would you−?” His eyes went wide before they rose from the paper and met hers. “Tell me this is not your sensible way of looking for a husband!”

  Gritting her teeth at the sound of the word sensible−the way he said it would suggest it was an insult!−Winifred stormed toward him, trying to rip the paper from his hands. Unfortunately, her brother was a good bit taller than she and at present rather disinclined to give up his trophy. “Don’t you dare laugh about me! After all, you of all people should be helping me with this.”

  “Me?” He stared at her dumbfounded. “Why?”

  Grabbing him by the sleeve, Winifred yanked his arm down and retrieved her list. “Because you know me better than anyone else,” she huffed, cradling the sheet of paper to her chest. “If you weren’t so immature, I wouldn’t be alone in this.” Swallowing, Winifred turned away as she felt the sting of tears. Never had she realised how alone she felt now that her mother was gone.

  It was terrifying.

  “Why do you wish to marry?” Griffin asked, his voice free of mockery. “I mean, why now? You haven’t said anything on the matter since…” He swallowed, no doubt remembering their lives before the shadow of their parents’ loss had fallen over them.

  “Because I’m running out of time.” Dabbing at her eyes, she forced the tears back down, then turned to face her brother.

  A frown drew down Griffin’s brows as he searched her face. “What do you mean?”

  Drawing in an impatient breath, Winifred welcomed the annoyance she often felt toward her brother with open arms. “Men can afford to marry late,” she snapped as though the inequality of today’s world was somehow his fault. “Women, however, are not so fortunate. I’m already two-and twenty, Griffin, and if I want to have children, there is no time to lose.”

  For a long time, he simply looked at her, too stunned to say a word. Had it truly never occurred to him that she would get married some day?

  Then he swallowed, and she could see his usual self re-emerge as a glimmer of mischief came to his eyes. “You want to get married? Fine. I’ll help you find your perfect match. But this,” he pointed at the list still clutched to her chest, “this is not the way to go about it.”

  Winifred glared at him. “Do not speak to me as though I am a child. I know very well what I want and how to achieve it.”

  “Do you?” He laughed. That man had the audacity to laugh! Could he not see how difficult this was for her? “And what good will such a list do?”

  Winifred rolled her eyes at him. “It is the only way to ensure compatibility.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she continued, “It is the only way I can think of to achieve what I had hoped Mother and Father would do for me.”

  Griffin’s eyes bulged. “You wanted them to find you a husband?”

  Frowning at him, Winifred nodded. “Why would that surprise you? Did you not hope for the same?”

  Staring at her, Griffin shook his head. “To tell you the truth, I hadn’t yet thought of marriage, but I’m quite certain I do want a say in it. I cannot imagine having that decision taken out of my hands.”

  A part of Winifred could understand his vehement demand to be included in such a life-altering decision. It echoed within her, and a delicate feeling of warmth and longing rose in her heart. Where had it come from?

  “Such a list will do you no good,” her brother told her, his gaze soft and yet insistent as it held hers. “Please, Winifred, abandon this nonsense and simply follow your heart.” A twinkle came to his eyes. “Is there no one you care for?”

  Winifred swallowed as the budding emotion in her chest roared to life, warming her chilled hands, and conjuring an image of dark green eyes, piercing in their intensity and yet kind and gentle as they looked into hers.

  “Is there?” Griffin prompted, a hint of suspicion in his dark gaze.

  Swallowing, Winifred shook her head, partly to rid herself of the image and partly to shake off the sense of detachment that had come over her. “There’s not,” she replied, her voice hard as she forced her thoughts back to the task at hand. “Now that Mother and Father are gone, this is my only chance to find a man suited to me.” She lifted the sheet of paper, and her eyes travelled over the few simple words that summed up her being. It was a pitiful sight.

  For a long moment, silence hung between them before her brother inhaled a strained breath. “Do you want my help?” he asked, a touch of incredulity in his voice.

  Lifting her gaze to her brother’s, Winifred smiled. “It is kind of you to offer, and I know you mean well. However, my marriage is not something to be taken lightly, and we both know that you are not the right person for this task.”

  All humour left Griffin’s face at her words, and the seriousness that came to his eyes was one she had never seen in him before. “I cannot deny that your words ring true,” he said, his voice even, and yet, she detected a slight quiver in it as though he felt ashamed to admit the truth. “However, you must know that I would never risk your happiness, dear Sister. As immature as I am,” a soft and rather apologetic grin came to his features, “I would not dare gamble with your future.” Holding her gaze, he swallowed, waiting for her answer as though he did not already know it, as though he feared what she would say.

  Touched by the way he had spoken to her, the way he had revealed a softer side of himself, one that was vulnerable and even afraid, Winifred placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I know you wouldn’t,” she whispered, noting the sense of relief that chased away the tension on his face. “This is not a question of honour, but of ability. This is something you cannot do for me.”

  Frowning, he looked at her. “Why not? You must admit that there is no one else in the world who knows you as well as I do. Or do you disagree?”

  “I do not, but−”

  “Then let me help you. Please! Let me do for you what you’d hoped Mother and Father would.”

  Staring at Griffin, Winifred could not believe her ears, could not fathom the sudden change she saw in her brother. Always had he been light-hearted and impulsive, smiling his way through life, charming others as easily as drawing breath. Had she misjudged him? How could she not have seen this serious side of him? “Are you saying you want to find me a husband?”

  A soft chuckle escaped him, and within an instant, the old Griffin was back. “Want may be a bit of a stretch, but yes. I will help you. You’re my sister, and I will not leave you alone in this. Please allow me to do so.”

  Hesitating, Winifred looked at him, saw the earnest concern and devotion in his eyes and noted the touch of humour curling his lips. What was she to do? Certainly, he knew her well. There was no denying that. But given his character, could he take this seriously? Could he see this through? Or would he abandon her once he grew tired of this new game?

  No, no matter what he would not abandon her. Still, was it wise to defer to him in this matter? Without hesitation, without a doubt in her
mind, Winifred would have allowed her mother to find her a suitable husband, but her brother? Could he do this?

  “I promise I will not disappoint you.” Grasping her hands, Griffin looked into her eyes, urging her to believe him. “I understand why you would be hesitant.” There was that word again! “But you have no reason not to trust me. And to prove it to you, I shall offer you a deal.”

  “A deal?” Winifred frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Her brother took a deep breath as though needing to fortify himself. “Allow me to find you a husband,” he said, “and I shall grant you the same permission when it comes to finding my wife.”

  Chapter Two – Welcome Home

  Stepping out of the carriage, Trent Henwood, Earl of Chadwick, allowed his gaze to sweep over Atherton House, an imposing country estate and the place that held his dearest childhood memories. A smile curled up his lips as he remembered the many summers of his youth spent here with Griffin and his sister Winifred.

  Winifred. Her name immediately conjured an image of a young lady with rich auburn tresses that framed her kind face, matching those chocolate brown eyes of hers that had the power to upend his world…or set it right.

  As he began to climb the steps toward the front door, Trent felt his heart beating in his chest, louder and faster than he had ever been aware of. Always had Winifred managed to keep him on edge with her serious demeanour, always trying to appear older and more mature, often chiding him and her brother for their wild ways. To this day, he remembered how she had stared up at him at age twelve, her hair pulled back in a serious knot, her arms crossed and her right foot tapping with annoyance at the way he and Griffin had come running into the drawing room, knocking the tea tray to the floor with a loud clatter. Oh, even then those eyes of hers had known how to shoot fire!

  With a deep breath, Trent stepped over the threshold and greeted the old butler. “Good day, Harmon. How is the knee?”

  “Quite all right, my lord.” The old man smiled at him. “It’s good to see you again.”

  Nodding, Trent gazed at the familiar hall with the sweeping staircase leading to the upper floor. How often had he and Griffin slid down the banister when no one was looking? How often had they been caught nonetheless?

  A smile curled up his lips at the memory.

  “Those were good days,” the old butler remarked with a wicked gleam in his eyes that Trent remembered only too well.

  “They were indeed,” he agreed, then glanced toward the old study tucked away in the eastern side of the house. “Is he in?”

  Harmon nodded. “His lordship is in the study…and Lady Winifred is painting in the conservatory.”

  About to take a step, Trent froze, his right foot lifted off the ground, slightly offsetting his balance. Then he cleared his throat and set it down, glancing at Harmon’s unreadable face. “Thank you,” he stammered as every fibre in his being strained toward the conservatory. “I shall…speak to his lordship first,” he said nonetheless, forcing his feet down the eastern corridor.

  His footsteps’ echo reached his ears, flying ahead as though to announce his arrival. It was a familiar sound, and Trent could not believe that it had been five years since he had last heard it.

  When his mother had died giving birth to him, Trent’s father had been heart-broken, retreating from the world and his only child, only knowing grief and sorrow, wandering Tredway Manor like a ghost. Thus, the first few years of Trent’s life had been marked by loneliness.

  Eton had changed that.

  On the very first day, he had met Griffin and a lifelong friendship had grown between them. From then on, Trent had spent every free minute at Atherton House, finding a surrogate home with Griffin’s family who had welcomed him with open arms. The death of the siblings’ parents had affected him as much as his own father’s passing a few years past…if not more. After all, they had been the ones to counsel and comfort, chide and praise him.

  When Griffin and Winifred had left England, he had been devastated, wishing he could have joined them. However, his late father’s affairs had demanded his attention, and he could not in good conscience have left his estate and all those who depended on him to travel the world.

  But now they had returned, and the moment he had heard the news, Trent had dropped everything and hastened over.

  Home, a quiet voice whispered as he came to stand outside the study, reminding himself that he would not find the old earl on the other side, but his friend instead.

  After knocking, he entered upon hearing Griffin’s voice and could not help but stare−at least for a moment−at the man he had not seen in five years, the man that had been like a brother to him, the man he had missed dearly for too long.

  Stepping around the desk, Griffin strode toward him, a deep smile on his face. “It’s been too long, old friend,” he announced as though chiding Trent for staying away. Then he pulled him into a fierce embrace. “It is good to see you, Brother.”

  Inhaling deeply, Trent returned Griffin’s hug with the same mixture of longing, regret and joy. “How long have you been back?”

  Stepping back, an apologetic grin came to Griffin’s face. “A couple of weeks.”

  “Weeks?” Trent’s eyes bulged, and a touch of disappointment washed over him.

  “Winifred received an urgent message from a friend,” he said by way of explaining.

  “A friend?”

  “Lady Eleanor,” Griffin elaborated. “I mean Mrs. Waltham now.”

  “I remember her well,” Trent said, wondering why he had never written, asking them to come home. “I heard that she’d married.”

  “Yes, a small ceremony a fortnight ago at Stanhope Grove.”

  Trent frowned. “Knowing the dowager countess, I would have expected a grander event, especially after Lord Stanhope’s marriage to the young widow within a few weeks after her husband’s passing was an equally private affair.”

  A wicked grin came to Griffin’s face. “Sometimes love cannot wait for a large wedding. However, I have to say the dowager countess seemed quite pleased with the development although I cannot say why.” He shrugged. “Something happened during our visit that we weren’t all made privy to.”

  Griffin drew in a deep breath, and the humour left his face. Then his gaze shifted to Trent’s, and yet, he did not speak.

  “Is everything all right?” Trent asked, feeling his skin crawl with apprehension. “You seem out of sorts.”

  With all his heart, Trent wished he had the courage to ask about Winifred. However, he did not dare reveal how he truly felt about her to his friend. Hell, it seemed he had only just realised it himself! After their departure, he had come to realise that his longing for her was different from the way he longed to see his oldest friend again. Always had they been family to him, and he knew he loved them dearly. Still, the way he thought of Winifred did not speak of brotherly affection. How would Griffin react if he found out?

  “I’m not certain,” Griffin finally said, the expression on his face rather tense while his eyes seemed to search Trent’s face. “I’ve entered into a rather unfortunate pact with my sister.”

  “Winifred?” Trent all but croaked, revelling in the feeling of her name on his tongue. It had been too long since he had been able to say it! “What do you mean?”

  Griffin inhaled a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. “She wants me to find her a husband.”

  Shock slammed into Trent like a charging bull, and he sucked in a sharp breath, trying to ease the pain radiating through his heart. “A husband? Is she…? I mean does she…already have a certain gentleman in mind?”

  Griffin’s gaze narrowed before the left corner of his mouth tugged up into a wicked grin. “May I ask you a question?”

  Swallowing, Trent nodded.

  “Why did you never ask for her hand?”

  Trent’s eyes bulged as the charging bull hit him square in the chest for the second time that day. “I beg your pardon?” he stammered, suddenly feeling light-h
eaded.

  Clasping a hand on his friend’s shoulder, Griffin held his gaze. “A blind man could see that you love her, have loved her for a long time.” The hint of a frown came to his features. “I understand that she was too young when we left, but to tell you the truth I have been waiting for you to come find us, find her, ever since. Why didn’t you?”

  Shaking his head as though that could dispel the truth of what he had just heard, Trent tried his best to swallow the lump in his throat. Indeed, why had he not? “Does…does she know?”

  Griffin laughed, “Oh, even if she did, she would never admit it to herself. After all, she does not believe you to be a sensible choice.” He shook his head in annoyance before the humour left his eyes. “However, I do believe she cares for you…if only she were brave enough to admit it.”

  Did she truly care for him? Could it be possible? Involuntarily, Trent’s heart began to dance in his chest before he forced it back into the sad, little room where it had lived these past five years. “I do not believe what you say is true. After all, whenever we lay eyes on one another, all we do is−”

  “Bicker?” Griffin cut in. “Yes, I’ve noticed. Maybe it’s time you stop treating her like a little girl. After all, it’s been five years.”

  Disheartened, Trent shook his head. “Quite frankly, I don’t know how else to speak to her.”

  “You’ve never seemed particularly shy around the fair sex,” Griffin observed with a grin. “Why now?”

  Trent shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

  “So, you care for her?”

  Trent sighed, forcing himself to meet his friend’s gaze. “As you’ve so shrewdly observed, yes, I do.” Again, he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Again, without success. “Is there a particular gentleman courting her?”

  Griffin grinned at him, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Not at present. After all, we’ve only been back in England for a few weeks, and the Season has yet to start.” For a moment, he looked at Trent, his gaze full of meaning. “However, I doubt that she will be lacking suitors.”