Chapter Four

T he marriage banns for Fredrick and Alfred and their respective brides were printed that week in the Sunday paper, as well as a detailed account of the Trembley ball. The countess's Tulip Ball, as it was being called, had been a smashing success, even considering that there had still been a mention of Mabel's unfashionably prolific dancing.

With the wedding now only a few short weeks away, Derek and the rest of the family were subjected to a series of events their mother had planned that they would attend together. Firstly, they would appear at the Gold Cup at the Ascot races, followed by the opera the next evening. After which, they would retire to Boxwood Park for a few days to watch the annual rowing race that was held in Henley-on-Thames. At that time, the Trembleys would be hosting their yearly regatta party.

Then, after that, they would return to London to spend the week in residence before the wedding, which was scheduled to take place at St. George Church. Leona and Mabel would stay at the Combe House that week with Fredrick's fiancée, Violet, and they would use the time to prepare for the bridal procession.

This meant Derek only had about three weeks to get his brother to see that he was making a mistake. Thankfully, he had concocted a flawless plan to get Alfred to see that Leona just wasn't right for him.

The morning of the ladies' day at Ascot races caused a bit of buzz in the Trembley home. Derek and his brothers were well known in the racing world, having bet on them quite regularly long before they surpassed their mother in height. As ladies' day was the most fashionable day to attend, the journey to Ascot was arduous, with carriages and crowds blocking the main drive to the races and slowing their movement to a crawl.

As the head of the family, Derek escorted his mother in his carriage, where they were joined by Alfred and Leona. Thankfully, Mabel was with Fredrick and Violet in a second vehicle, giving Derek some much-sought-after space from her.

Mabel had continued to make quiet comments whenever she passed him, stating that he would have better success with his plan should he involve her in forming his strategy. He had to admire her arrogance, even though it was preposterous to think that he would need any help from her to break up his brother and his fiancée. The two of them were so ill-suited that it would hardly involve an ounce of effort. And once he made Alfred see that the entire thing was a mistake, he would happily escort both Meadows sisters to the coast and wish them bon voyage on their journey.

Although, as he glanced across the coach to where the engaged couple sat, oblivious to everything except each other, a small, near miniscule part of him regretted that he had to tear them apart. It was obvious that there was a genuine connection between Alfred and Leona. But Derek was certain that their feelings for each other were not strong enough to weather the challenges they would face if they were to wed. There was simply no recourse for it. The Meadows had demonstrated their lack of ability to hold themselves to the highest standards so as to blend in with the Trembleys' echelon. Mabel, in particular, had an obvious disdain for not only everything to do with the peerage but everything to do with England itself. Just that morning, she had made an emphatic speech about the inferiority of British breakfast cuisines. His brothers and mother had found the whole thing amusing, but Derek could see she wasn't jesting. She loathed London, and he would be more than happy to help evict her from the city.

And he had just the plan to do it.

Suddenly, a slim elbow pressed into his ribs. Turning his head, he saw his mother giving him a peculiar look.

"Yes?" he said while Leona giggled at something Alfred said.

"There's something mischievous about your face this morning, Derek," his mother said quietly. "I don't like it."

"Ah, Mother, he can't help it," Alfred said. "He was born that way."

"Alfred," Leona admonished with a slight swat of her hand against his chest.

"Have no fear, my lady. I've withstood far worse than that from this one," Derek said.

"I don't know why all my boys must constantly insult each other. It's exhausting."

"It's how we show we care for one another, of course," Alfred said, glancing at Derek. "Isn't it?"

Unable to keep a smirk from crossing his face, Derek nodded.

"Yes. It developed after Mother insisted that we quit attempting to shake the house down with our wrestling matches, as I recall."

"Did you wrestle one another often?" Leona asked with genuine interest.

"Oh, constantly. And with unceasing vigor. It was dreadful," his mother said, rolling her eyes upward. "The walls would quake whenever the three of them were alone for longer than two minutes. They would come, tumbling down the stairs, a pile of arms and legs, yelling and quarreling, without any regard for who was around."

"We were an energetic bunch," Alfred said with a wink.

"It tested my nerves, I'll tell you. And their father never helped, except to coach one or the others to land a punch the proper way." She shook her head. "It was unbearable."

Derek's smirk shifted into a genuine smile.

"He really was good at that," Derek said. "He taught all of us the finer points of pugilism."

"You were the best at it though," Alfred pointed out. "Father always said so."

"A ridiculous thing to be proud of," his mother said, but then she never really understood it. Not like Father had.

Derek and his brothers were overly energetic in their youth, and when their father had finally decided to help harness it instead of trying to squash it, he had picked activities for each of his sons to give a focus to their energies. While Fredrick had excelled in riding and Alfred in fencing, Derek had proven to have a singular boxing talent. So much so that his father had often commented that if his son hadn't been born a gentleman, he might have made a fine living in the ring.

The late earl had been instrumental in each of his sons' extracurricular activities, and Derek and his brothers had been pushed and praised by their father until they became more than proficient. It had been a bonding experience, with each of them cheering the other on to the point where it brought them closer. And their father had made a point of being there to support all three of them. To do well in the sport their father had chosen for them had brought each of the Trembley brothers a great deal of pride.

"Hopefully, you two will be blessed with girls," his mother continued.

Leona's cheeks became pink as the carriage shifted to a standstill. Derek was brought back to the situation as the door swung open.

A sea of people swept out over the lawns of the racetrack as Derek escorted his mother out of the carriage. Hundreds of finely dressed ladies and gentlemen walked about the area surrounding the track. The sun was shining and the smell of upturned earth hung in the air, as the track had been run the previous day for practice races.

Spinning around, Derek waited until Fredrick, Violet, and Mabel exited their carriage and came toward them, then led the way through the crowded lawn toward a door at the back of the grandstand. The wooden staircase there lead up through the back of the pavilion, and an usher was waiting at the top to take the family to their family box, situated under a large wooden canopy.

The Trembley box was one of the most coveted at these particular downs, as it was directly front and center. It was second only to the royal box, which stood in a separate building.

Everyone who was anyone was expected to be in attendance, which was precisely what Derek had hoped for. He was slightly dismayed to see that the box diagonally behind them to the right was unoccupied. Still, it was early, and he hoped the Appletons would arrive shortly.

Agatha Brinsley, the newly minted Viscountess Appleton, had been courted by Alfred quite avidly some months before. They had seemed to be very much in love, but when she had the chance to marry someone with a title, she abandoned Alfred. It was this heartache that had actually led Alfred to take his transatlantic trip.

Derek did not relish the idea of causing his brother heartache by exposing him to the woman who had broken his heart, but it had to be done. There was a rumor that Agatha now regretted marrying Lord Appleton. While there was no helping her situation, Derek hoped that seeing the woman he used to love might shake Alfred from his current infatuation.

And if Leona could witness the apparent connection between Alfred and Agatha, perhaps she would grow disenchanted with her fiancé.

"A lovely day for the races, isn't it, my lord?" Mabel said, her resonant voice cutting through the noise of the crowds around them.

Derek curved to see her bright blue gaze sparkling with mischievous intent.

"Indeed," he answered shortly.

But his ire only seemed to amuse Mabel. She grinned at him, and god above, Derek's muscles tightened from his neck, down his abdomen, to his legs. He knew his body was reacting to her, and as much as he loathed it, he couldn't ignore the physical reaction, nor could he deny that she aroused something in him. Mabel was beautiful, and he was only a man, but that was as far as it went. Except that, in the next moment, she leaned toward him, and her eyelashes fluttered down to her cheeks as she spoke, stirring something else he wasn't quite able to name.

"Tell me, are you still planning to go ahead with your campaign alone?"

Derek purposely breathed through his mouth, ignoring the gentle scent of roses that seemed to emanate off her skin.

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"I could help, you know."

"As I've told you, at least a dozen times now, there is no need for that," he said. "I can manage it myself."

"Can you?"

"Yes."

"Then I hope you have everything well in hand," she said, lifting her gaze again as she held her hand out to him.

Fighting back the urge to be charmed by her quip, he took her fingers and helped her to her seat. He had meant to let go of her hand once she was settled, but something in him pushed, and he couldn't bring himself to do so without squeezing first. Mabel's face lit up with curiosity as his hand fell away.

"I do," he stated firmly.

Just then, a caller announced that the first race was to begin in a matter of minutes. Derek leaned forward, nodding at Alfred, who had just returned to the box after placing their bets.

The horses were brought up to the starting line in a row, single file. Leona, who was seated next to her sister, leaned forward for a closer look.

"This is so different from the Hempstead Plains," Leona said. "So many fashionable people are here."

"I believe it's a rich man's sport over here, my dear," Mabel said.

"As opposed to a poor man's sport?" Fredrick asked.

"All betting is a poor man's sport at the end of the day," Mabel countered. "The only people who can afford to gamble are people who have money to throw away—because it will be thrown away."

"And what if they win?"

"A happy coincidence, but not one they should expect to last long," Mabel said as the horses were lined up.

"Oh! There's the one I picked. Bizarre," Violet said.

"A very smart choice, my love," Fredrick said to his fiancée. "I believe I have Touchstone."

"And you, Miss Meadows?" Derek asked before he could help himself. "Have you chosen a horse?"

Mabel glanced at him. She seemed hesitant at first, as though she thought he had only asked with the intention to mock her and was waiting for the chance to sting her with a sharp quip. But when he didn't say anything further, she squinted as if she didn't quite believe he was asking her a sincere question.

After another moment, she spoke.

"Anticipation."

All of Derek's attention remained on her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"My horse, its name is Anticipation. But I put in a trifecta with Bizarre and…what was your horse, dear?" she asked, turning to face Leona.

"Splendid Pool."

"Yes, Splendid Pool."

"You put in a trifecta?"

"Of course," she said, gazing back to the greens. "I'm rich, after all."

To his own surprise, Derek laughed, genuinely amused by her audacity. Just then, the crack of a pistol echoed across the crowd, and Mabel jumped slightly in her seat next to him. The horses sped as fast as they could around the track, galloping as the dust beat up in a cloud around them.

The beating of the hooves on the earth sent vibrations through the ground, up to the wooden floorboards of the grandstand as people on the lawn began to shout and root for their picks. It was the best part of any race: the speed, the hope, the desperation. And yet, Derek could barely focus on any of it because the length of Mabel's thigh was pressed against his.

His gaze dropped to where their legs met. Even though he wore crème-colored trousers and she was layered beneath what was likely half a dozen layers of silk, a hot, pulsing sensation seemed to beat at the spot where they were in contact. Derek could hardly make sense of it. Neither was behaving inappropriately. Hell, he was surrounded by family, friends, and hundreds of people, yet the whole focus of his world had suddenly come down to this one point.

He gazed out of the corner of his eye to see if she was reacting in the same way, but she seemed utterly focused on the race. The only hint of recognition was the slight heightening of color on the crests of her cheek. Of course, that could have just been from the excitement of the race or the warmth of sitting in such close proximity with others during a summer day. Most likely, the color was from one of those causes, for Mabel wasn't the type of woman to blush over something as insignificant as being crowded in a tight place with a man.

Just then, Mabel and everyone else in the box jumped up in shouts and cheers, leaving Derek somewhat confused. He had missed the finish.

"There!" she said, laughing as she turned back to glance down at him. "A more beautiful ending I could not have asked for."

"Aw, blast," Violet said, surprising her mother-in-law. "Er, I mean, fiddlesticks."

Fredrick and Alfred burst into laughter as Derek stood.

"We won, Mabel!" Leona said happily. "We did it."

"Brilliant choice, my dear. Hopefully, your luck will spill over into the other races."

"Oh, but it was you who picked them."

Derek's brow ticked up.

"Yes, but because you liked the name so," Mabel said quickly.

Derek leaned toward her.

"If I were a betting man, I'd say that you've played this ‘poor man's sport' before," he teased.

Mabel turned, her mouth poised to say something cutting. He could tell when her focus suddenly shifted. She tilted her head at something she seemed to have spotted over his shoulder.

"I believe someone is trying to get your attention," she said.

Disappointed that he hadn't heard her would-be rebuttal, Derek twisted and saw Lord Appleton lifting his hat at the Trembley box as he descended the steps. The man had long, reddish sideburns and a short nose. On this day, he was dressed in a purple coat. A pretty brunette held onto his arm, her eyes round with shock as she surveyed beyond Derek—her eyes, no doubt, falling on Alfred.

"Lord Appleton," Derek said with a nod of his head. "Lady Appleton. A pleasure to see you both."

"Trembley," Lord Appleton thundered, then bowed to the countess. "Lady Trembley. My, it seems the entire family is out today, right? And a few more, it would seem?"

"Forgive me," Derek said, his body rotating to present Mabel and her sister. "May I introduce the Comtesse de Retha and Miss Leona Meadows."

"Former comtesse," Mabel corrected him as she pushed past to offer her hand. "A pleasure to meet you."

The viscount appeared amused by Mabel's correction but took her hand and lifted it to his lips. To Derek's confusion, a sudden urge to swat her hand away from the man's mouth coursed through him.

He frowned, unsure what to make of his sudden reaction.

"And Lady Appleton," Mabel continued when the viscount released her hand. "What a stunning dress."

"Thank you," the viscountess said, her tone uneven. "Hello, Lord Trembley, Lady Trembley, Lord Fredrick. Lord Alfred." Her voice seemed to shake a bit on the last name.

Alfred came up to join them, pushing his way in between Mabel and Derek. Pleased with himself, as this would undoubtedly cause an argument between his brother and his fiancée, Derek shifted down the box to give Alfred more room to get close to the viscountess. But then he found himself standing next to Mabel again, who had been displaced by Leona. Confused, he glanced back to where he had just been standing.

"Lady Appleton, my I introduce you to my fiancée, Miss Leona Meadows?" Alfred asked.

"F-fiancée?"

"Yes."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Appleton," Leona said with a chin dip. "Alfred has told me so much about you."

"Has he?"

"Yes. He said we would undoubtedly be great friends should we ever meet. He's always spoken so highly of you."

"Oh, well… I look forward to getting to know you. Congratulations on your betrothal."

Lady Appleton's face conveyed a whole series of emotions. Still, as the conversation continued, it became evident that not even the presence of his former love would shake Alfred from his devotion to Leona.

Bollocks .

Gripping the tickets in his hand, Derek glanced out over the track.

"Oh no," Mabel's voice came, low and inconspicuously. "Tell me that wasn't it."

Derek clenched his teeth.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're speaking of."

"Goodness, don't you speak with your brothers?" she whispered into her shoulder so no one but Derek could hear her. "Alfred has talked at length about Lady Appleton to Leona. He's been completely honest with her about his former attachment—and fully transparent about the fact that his feelings for her are entirely in the past."

"How do you know?"

"Because my sister tells me everything." She shook her head. "Tell me you've something else planned?"

An usher came down the stairs with a tray of refreshments, interrupting the conversation with Mabel. Irritated, Derek moved to the back of the box, standing while the usher passed out lemonade as the next race was lined up.

While he had spoken with Alfred about his feelings for Agatha, he hadn't truly believed his brother was over his former relationship. Not until now. As he watched a pale Lady Appleton say her goodbyes before returning to her box with her husband, Derek wondered why he hadn't listened to his brother.

He supposed it had been an understandable miscalculation. After all, Alfred had been quite devastated before his trip to America. Yet it was obvious that the only one affected by the meeting today had been the viscountess, and that hadn't been Derek's goal.

It wasn't going to be as easy to separate Alfred and Leona as he had anticipated. While his mind churned to discover something that would effectively end their attachment, a Mr. Bentley suddenly appeared, exchanging pleasantries with Fredrick. They had attended school together and been part of their social circle since childhood. Though the gentleman spoke directly with Fredrick, who was introducing him to Violet, Bentley's view kept bouncing back to Mabel.

It seemed no matter where she went, men couldn't help but stare at her. And while Derek hated himself for being counted among them, he wouldn't allow her to distract him. No, he needed to focus.

"How grand," Violet was saying to Mr. Bentley when she turned. "Mabel? This is Mr. Bentley, a friend of Fredrick's and of the family."

"Ah, we actually already met," he said, taking her hand. "At the ball the other night? We danced. Twice."

"We did," Mabel said, and Derek noted her tone was somewhat higher than usual. "Of course, yes, Mr. Bentley. How do you do?"

"Very well indeed," he said eagerly.

"I didn't know you were such good friends with the Trembleys."

"Oh, yes, for many years. I used to spend a good portion of my summers just across the river in Henley-on-Thames. My uncle lives across the water."

"Oh, your uncle is Lord Nesby? I met him the other evening."

"He's just invited us to join him at the British Museum to view the new King's Library exhibit," Violet said before adding. "King George just donated his father's collection to the museum. Over sixty thousand volumes."

"What a voracious reader," Mabel quipped, causing the young man to laugh while Derek's agitation flared. "We would love to come, as long as my sister and her fiancé could accompany us as well?"

"Oh, absolutely, Miss Meadows. The more the merrier, I always say."

"Is that so?" she asked the tone of her voice dropping into something seductive.

Derek clenched his jaw. It was one thing to behave brazenly with him, but Mr. Bentley was what he and his brothers considered a good lad. He was not prone to drink or gamble, and while that left little in common as far as hobbies go, Derek and his brothers were always somewhat protective of the young man, who was obviously in over his head when it came to a worldly woman like Mabel.

It simply would not do to let the poor man get trampled on by a woman of Mabel's life experiences.

"Yes, that sounds like a fine idea," he heard himself say.

Bentley bowed to him with a friendly expression on his face.

"Really?"

"Er," Mabel began, squinting with suspicion. "I wasn't aware that you had a liking for museums, my lord."

"On the contrary," he said. "I find that I'm quite interested."

"Is that so?" Alfred asked.

"Yes," Derek said, only now noticing everyone was watching him. His brothers, in particular, were observing him as if he had just swallowed a fish whole. "What?"

"Well, it's just that you've never wished to go to the museum before," Fredrick said. "Whenever we've asked you to join us, you've always called it a great bore."

"Yes," Alfred added. "I believe you even said once that you'd rather have hot pokers jab at your feet then visit a building filled with…what did he say?"

"Old rubbish," Fredrick answered, a teasing look on his face.

Derek glared at the two of them, both of whom seemed to be having great fun teasing him.

"Very good then. I shall see you all tomorrow. Goodbye, Miss Meadows," Bentley said, his observation lingering on Mabel for a moment longer before turning away.

While Violet and Fredrick took their seats for the next race, Mabel came to stand next to Derek, who was trying very hard to not be so aware of the close proximity of their bodies.

"I don't know what you're up to," she said beneath her breath as the race began. The shouts from the crowds drowned out her words to all but Derek, who leaned toward her to hear. "But if you think to repeat another lackluster attempt to separate our siblings, you may wish to rethink your strategy before failing again."

"I will not fail again."

"You wouldn't have the first time if you'd accepted my help."

He glanced down at her. For some reason, having these small, private conversations in full view of everyone made Derek feel daring and adventurous. He wouldn't admit to liking having a secret with her, but it was interesting just how electrified he was whenever she would whisper to him under her breath.

"And what, pray tell, would you suggest?"

"Oh no," she said with a slight shake of her head. "I offered my help, and you rejected it. No, I'll require an apology and a concession before I help you now."

"What sort," he began slowly, "of concession?"

But Mabel only winked before brushing past him. Taking a seat next to his mother, Derek had the sudden uneasy sensation that he wasn't as in control of things as he had initially believed.