The Duchess Contest: A Jet City Billionaire Serial Romance
"You're not casting your vote for a British duchess, though, I hope?" I couldn't believe I'd spoken. And blatantly referenced what was at stake. Though everyone knew it. It had been all over the news. Or that my voice came out just the tiniest bit flirty.
Lazer's grin deepened. "I didn't realize my choice of car could be misconstrued as my vote. I'm all for an American duchess." His intense gaze held mine. His eyes sparkled. There was no sarcasm in his tone, only amusement and flirtation. "Guess I should have brought my classic Mustang." He glanced at Riggins. "Who are these beautiful women?"
"Lazer Grayson—Sid and Haley Hamilton. Ladies, Lazer." Riggins nodded between us.
Another footman arrived to park Lazer's car and take his luggage to his room. Riggins directed him to the Presidential Suite.
"Jus and Kay and Lady Rose are already here. Thorne will arrive later." Riggins put his hand in the small of my back, where I felt it acutely. "Come in and join the party. Once you've freshened up and settled in your rooms, we'll take a tour of the house and grounds." He gave me an intimate look. "That's the whole point of the weekend, isn't it?"
"Is it?" I held his gaze and raised an eyebrow. "That's what Lady Rose wanted, anyway." We all knew the whole point was something else entirely.
"Dinner is promptly at eight tonight. Our chef is an absolute tyrant. She won't tolerate any tardiness. In the spirit of the theme for the weekend, a gong will announce dinner." Riggins offered Sid and I each an arm and led us into the great hall of the castle. "That gives us a few hours for the tour before we have to dress for dinner."
The great hall, which doubled as the lobby in the modern era, was decorated ornately in the dark colors of the Victorian age. Deep brown solid wood floors and inset wood paneling on the walls. A fireplace with an intricately carved mantel and a roaring fire blazing. Rich, thick Persian carpets in dark red and cream. Greek statuary. Topiary trees. Doors to the dining room were closed.
The footman was waiting to take us to our rooms.
"See you back here in half an hour for the tour," Riggins said to us as he cast a quick look at Lazer.
Our suites were connected and shared a private Jacuzzi bath in the shape of a heart. A glass canister of rose petals sat on the edge of the bath, ripe for sprinkling in. The entire suite was lightly perfumed with lavender. My room was, obviously, deep pink, accented in gold. The bed was massive. Poppies adorned everything from the painting over the bed to the bedspread and rug.
The curtains were open, giving us a view of the English gardens. Sadly, this time of year wasn't their finest. The flowerbeds were covered in mulch. And although there were a few bushes with red winter berries of some kind, everything else was pretty stark. Sid and I had scoped it out online and seen pictures of the gardens in their summer glory. We'd have to come back in another season.
Sid's room was equally beautiful, with a gilded mirror and a heavy cherry wood armoire. All of the furniture was, of course, Victorian. Their website said much of it was original.
"I feel like we've stepped back in time," I said to Sid after the footman placed our suitcases on stands and departed. "Can you imagine Helen living here?"
Sid looked around. "I can almost feel her presence."
"You mean her mother's." I laughed, nervously. My pulse raced, but not with the pleasant sensation of being next to Riggins. Maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was the thrill of the hunt.
Sid fell into an armchair near the window in her room. "We're in deep crap, Hale." She waved her arm around, indicating the room. "This place definitely favors Lady Rose. Maybe we shouldn't have agreed—"
"We didn't have a choice," I reminded her. "Besides, we're on American ground. This place was built or, at least, reassembled by an American. We'll be fine."
I glanced at a clock on the dresser. "We'd better start getting ready for the tour. We want to stun everyone with the sheer volume of our wardrobe." I laughed as I got out my phone and scrolled through the pictures of the outfits the Flash girls had created for us. "Now what did Erica and Paige give us for a house tour? Looks like we have several options."
Sid nodded. "Hale?"
"Yeah?"
"Watch yourself around Lazer."
I frowned. "Why?"
"Riggins gave you a funny look when you talked to Lazer when he arrived. I think he's part of the test. The temptation. You were…a little too flirty with him."
I went cold. She was right. I'd known it immediately. I couldn't even deny it. I nodded. "You're right. I felt it, too." Then I grinned. "So how are we going to use Lazer to throw Lady Rose under the bus?"
Riggins
Thorne had been delayed waiting for the results of the DNA tests. Something was going on with them. Something he wouldn't say, but had him concerned. In the meantime, he was riding roughshod over the lab. And then he was meeting with an expert in DNA testing to go over the results with him.
Jus and I had talked when he and Kayla arrived. We were as stymied trying to find a way to counteract the Dead Duke's poison pill as we'd been the first day. I had the ring with me. Before the end of the weekend, I was going to have to propose to either Rose or Haley.
At this point, I was fifty-fifty, flipping and flopping on who I would choose. Each had their pros and cons. Haley was just too damned dangerous to my heart.
Lazer was the first of the guests to come down from his room and join me while we waited for the tour. "Your American choice, Haley, is cute. Her sister is a knockout. A little young, but wow."
"Stay away from Sid," I said, already sounding like a big brother. "Your job is to hit on Haley and Rose."
"Yeah, it's a tough job." Lazer paused. "Why does someone have to do it, Riggs? What's the rush to get a duchess and why is the press so up in arms and excited about it?"
"You haven't been following the story closely enough." I sighed. "Apparently I'm lonely, and since I'm the last of my family, I'm eager to find a duchess and produce an heir to protect my dukedom. I have a fear of dying early without a son to my name."
Lazer raised both eyebrows. "Seriously? I'll believe that when I see a flying pig. What's really going on?"
"Let's just say I'm under some pressure to marry."
"Someone has something on you." Lazer clicked his tongue. "I wouldn't have expected it of you, Riggins. I love intrigue. Who's blackmailing you into marrying? One of the girls?"
"Just charm the two candidates for duchess, will you?"
Jus and Kayla came down the stairs, interrupting our conversation, thankfully. Jus waved. "Lazer!"
The two men clapped each other on the back. Lazer hugged the very pregnant Kayla a little longer than was necessary, I thought. But Justin seemed fine with it.
"Look at you, glowing and beautiful," Lazer said to Kayla.
"Round and roly-poly, you mean." She smiled beautifully. "Aren't you going to tease me about swallowing a watermelon?"
"Who's eating watermelon? What have I missed?" Rose came down the stairs, elegantly dressed in wool slacks, a cashmere sweater, and diamonds.
She caught Lazer's attention immediately. It may have been my imagination, but the air fairly well crackled with sexual tension between them. She sized Lazer up, trying to mask her feelings, but failing. Not a good sign for me.
I was introducing her to Lazer when Sid and Haley came down. The contrast between the two women couldn't have been starker. Haley was dressed in boutique fashion from Flash—tight jeans, cotton blouse and sweater, canvas shoes, and costume jewelry. She looked young, fresh, and fashionable. My heart raced at the sight of her. Something about her…
Our tour guide arrived to take us around the house. "My name's Beth. I hope everyone's up for a tour of this exquisite house! I'm here to answer any questions as we go along."
"I feel like I'm in a scene from Pride and Prejudice," Haley said. "The one where Elizabeth takes a tour of Pemberley. What secrets will we find here at Wareswood?"
There was a big secret waiting for her in the dining room. I'd seen
it when I toured the house before the guests arrived. I'd been unsettled by it. How would Haley react? I'd be watching her closely.
Haley
Our tour guide, Beth, was a middle-aged woman and assistant manager of the estate. She had a passion for the house that was infectious, and was equally enthusiastic and knowledgeable about what she laughingly called her charge. She began the tour in the great room, talking about the statues and how William Wares had purchased them at auction from an antiquities dealer in Greece shortly after the castle was built.
I was enthralled by the history and couldn't help picturing Helen and her older sister Clara, my great-grandma, whom I'd only just discovered when Mr. Thorne showed me my family tree, wandering through as girls, dressed in Victorian pinafores, playing in room after room with porcelain dolls and real china tea sets.
Their growing up had been miles away from my middle-class life. The money in my branch of the family tree hadn't made its way down to my generation. Clara had married beneath herself and fallen out of the wealthy class. Maybe even fallen out with the upper crust.
My mom had never talked much about her family. Before Mr. Thorne's arrival, I hadn't known I'd had a great-aunt who was a duchess. Only that there was some scandalous behavior way back in Mom's grandma's time. That her grandma had come from a wealthy household and made a marriage that the family believed was beneath her.
No mention of Helen, who'd married the financially savvy Dead Duke.
I hadn't been particularly interested in Helen or Clara before. Too many other things on my mind. With all that had been going on, I hadn't even bothered to research them.
Beth's stories of them piqued my interest and made them real. I had a family history that was actually pretty interesting.
"Helen, of course, became the Duchess of Witham when she came of age and married. She moved to England after her marriage and returned only occasionally for visits."
Sad. Had Helen felt that, too? Had she missed the city and country of her birth? Had it been lonely being an expat in England? Even though the climate was similar to ours, I loved Seattle and couldn't imagine leaving it for good. When I became duchess, if I became duchess, I would live at least half the year here. I made a mental note to make the stipulation part of the marriage contract.
On Thursday, I had visited the attorney Mr. Thorne had recommended. He was working on the paperwork and had requested the prenup Mr. Thorne was writing up as well. Just in case. Plan for all contingencies. Be prepared to act. But what were the contingencies? Did I have a decent shot?
When we were together, Riggins and I clicked. When we were apart, I couldn't get him out of my mind. I missed him. I could have spent every moment texting him. Wasn't that the test for love? Thinking of the other person when they were out of sight, but definitely not out of mind?
Hearing the history of Clara marrying beneath herself reminded me that from a social standpoint I was a bad catch. Well below his social class. Maybe marrying too far out of my class really would cause problems.
Rose was certainly more of his class than I was. And could teach him so much about the British upper class he was now a part of. I wondered if I should bow out. Just leave him to Rose. But my heart wouldn't let me. My gut feeling that she would be terrible for him kept me in the competition even though maybe it was just supremely biased.
As we toured the house, I was acutely aware of Riggins. I could feel his every move, even when he was out of my line of sight. I wished he could see how my heart ached for him. Or maybe that would only scare him away.
Rose was aristocratically bored. Been here, done this a thousand times. Wareswood Castle could hardly compare to the rich manor houses that she moved in as a matter of her birth. She didn't need a tour to see a house so much better than this, just an invitation to tea. The only thrill this house had for her was her connection to the late duchess who'd been a girl here. And so far, there hadn't been much about her in the tour.
Rose had a deep knowledge of artists and painters and fine old books that she didn't mind showing off. It would have been more annoying if she didn't carry herself with a certain grace and natural snobbiness that seemed to fit her social station. Yes, it was all too easy to picture her as the next duchess. And way too far of a stretch to see myself in the role.
What did I know about old paintings and how to preserve them? Or how to conduct household tours in a way that wasn't braggy, but fun and informative? Cultured.
Rose attached herself to Riggins, hanging on his arm and cooing in his ear when she wasn't coolly showing off.
I was relegated to the back of the pack. With Lazer paying particular attention to me, whispering jokes to me, and standing too close. At any other time this would have been a good thing. But right now I didn't need his rattling presence. Next to him I felt young, inexperienced, and uncultured.
Even still, it was hard not to be aware of Lazer Grayson. He was the hottest bachelor in Seattle, after all. And for good reason. Self-made billionaire. Smelled great. Looked better. Funny and charming. Flattering. He could put a bit of nerd on when he wanted. Knew how to flirt and did it shamelessly. He lacked only one quality in my opinion—he wasn't Riggins. But he was Riggins' spy, no doubt.
Chemistry and love were fickle creatures. Cupid pierced you with his arrow and made you blind to other candidates. I smiled at Lazer's jokes and made pleasant conversation. But I didn't flirt back. I'd been inoculated to his appeal by Riggins. Another type of girl might have tried to make Riggins jealous by flirting with Lazer. But that wasn't me.
My gaze kept following Riggins. I struggled to mask my jealousy. And fantasized about shoving Rose out of the way and taking her place. Instead, I distracted myself by listening to Beth and watching Justin and Kayla as they whispered to each other and gave each other admiring, loving looks. They were openly affectionate and so clearly belonged together. Kayla would reach up for no reason and stroke Justin's bearded cheek playfully. He kissed the top of her head. And patted her big belly proudly and protectively. They were completely adorable and so obviously in love.
Justin never let go of Kayla's hand. When the tour came to a stop, he hugged her from behind, putting his hand on her pregnant belly. Kayla smiled at him and ruffled his beard the wrong way until they both laughed.
That was the kind of relationship I wanted. With Riggins.
Sid connived and tried to help me out. Pushing us to Riggins' side, where we stood unnoticed while Rose monopolized him.
During the tour, I noticed Beth staring at me when she thought I wasn't looking. Strange. She took us through the sitting rooms, the study, walked past the kitchens with a quick explanation that they'd been totally renovated and modernized and weren't of much interest, the billiards room, the library, all the rooms on the main floor, pointing out paintings, artwork, and furniture and giving us each piece's history.
Finally, she ended the tour in the dining room. "You'll be dining here tonight and breakfasting here in the morning."
Beth stopped in front of a long, rectangular table. "Usually we have several large, round tables set up for guests. But for your stay we've moved in the original dining table. It can seat up to twenty if necessary." She began describing how it was acquired and telling us all about the manufacturer.
Rose was still hanging on Riggins' arm. "It's been brilliant seeing my biological family's ancestral home." She smiled at Riggins. "One can just picture Helen growing up here and having a lovely childhood. It's rather sad, though, that all the old houses are either open for tours or have been converted to something else. Your home, Witham House, is one of the few still privately held. No tours. It's an impressive accomplishment, given all the death taxes over the years and the increased labor costs."
She sighed, resigned. "Our house is open for tours four days a week April through September. It's a nuisance, really. But it pays the bills and keeps the paintings in the family. We have some fine ones, actually.
"I've been on our tour so many times that
, frankly, I find it rather boring." She laughed softly. "You can only hear so much about the same old paintings and ancestors before you lose interest. It's nice to hear about new old paintings for once. New ones to me, anyway."
As if taking her cue from Lady Rose, Beth stopped in front of the largest wall of the dining room and pointed to the paintings overhead.
I'd been so preoccupied watching Rose and Riggins, I hadn't been paying much attention to what hung on the walls. During the tour I'd become kind of inured to all the fine art, and stopped really seeing much of it unless Beth called particular attention to a piece. I looked up, following where Beth pointed, and gasped. Hanging in the prime position over the fireplace was a picture of…me. Dressed as a Jazz Age high-fashion flapper, with long, loopy necklaces and all. The woman in the picture had bobbed silver hair, where my silver hair was long and in soft waves, but the resemblance was uncanny right down to the hair color.
Riggins was watching me closely. So was Beth. Suddenly I understood her interest in me and the odd looks she'd been giving me. As if they were in some kind of synchronized event, Justin, Kayla, Lazer, Sid, and Rose looked from the picture to me and back again. It was almost comical.
My mouth fell open. A prickle rose up my spine.
Beth held her hand up to the painting. "Helen, the Duchess of Witham. The painting was donated to Wareswood by the late duke." Beth laughed nervously and smiled at me. "I apologize for staring at you, Haley. You can certainly tell you're Helen's descendant. You look just like her. Or is it only me who sees the resemblance?"
The room had gone silent. Yeah, and now I knew why the Dead Duke was hellbent on me being the next duchess. I was a dead ringer for the woman hanging on the wall. Even down to the trendy silver color of my hair. Did Helen have that color naturally? Why hadn't I ever thought to find a picture of her before? Why hadn't my random Googling turned any up? What did the Dead Duke look like in his youth? If Riggins was his double, I was going to freak for real.
All eyes were on me, watching my reaction. My mouth went dry. I swallowed hard and forced a smile as I shrugged.