One Golden Ring. Cheryl Bolen

      Adam gave his brother yet another incredulous look. “You’re going to spurn the loveliest actress on the London stage simply because you’re going to marry a blueblood? How . . . puritanical.”

      “I don’t take vows of any kind lightly.”

      Adam’s eyes narrowed. “I believe you’re smitten with Lady Fiona.”

      “Believe what you will,” Nick said with a careless shrug. “It’s nothing to me. I merely felt I owe my wife-to-be a clean slate.”

      “Does she know about Emmie, then?”

      Nick cursed. “I should have told her! I had so much on my mind I completely forgot.”

      “Yes, you should have told her.” Adam eyed his brother warily, then shrugged. “I suppose you could send Emmie off somewhere.”

      “You think I should send the child back to the whore who gave birth to her?” Nick asked angrily.

      “I know how distasteful that is to you. What about one of those girls’ schools around Bath?”

      “I should pretend my child does not exist rather than acknowledge her to my aristocratic wife?” This was the first time he’d voiced the word wife in connection with Fiona, and it gave him a not unpleasant feeling of possession.

      “Now, don’t get so ruffled! I’m only trying to prepare you, to warn you. Lady Fiona will not have an illegitimate child under her roof—much less take on the role of mother to the child.”

      His brother was likely right, Nick realized, his gut roiling. As far as the child was concerned, he had already gone over and above that which was expected of a gentleman toward his bastard. Still . . .

      The door to Adam’s office flew open, and the third and youngest Birmingham brother stormed in. It was as if the mold that created the two elder brothers had been retired when William Birmingham was conceived. Where the two elder brothers were tall and dark, William was only barely past medium height, with golden hair and a more muscular torso than his lean brothers. “What the devil was so important that you sent a messenger to Newmarket to fetch me?” William demanded. “Do you know how much I could have won on the final race?”

      “You’ll get no sympathy from Nick,” Adam said.

      “If you did a decent day’s work,” Nick chided, “you’d have no need to throw away your money at gaming hells and horse races.”

      Adam shrugged. “You know what Nick always says. His livelihood provides all the risks he needs.”

      “I don’t believe Nick’s ever thrown dice in his entire life,” William said.

      Nick’s brows nudged down. “Why would I want to? I lose and win fortunes every day—no dice or pasteboards needed.”

      Dust still clinging to his Hessians, William sank into a chair. “What’s so bloody urgent?”

      “Nick’s getting married tomorrow,” Adam announced.

      William bolted up. “The hell you say!”

      “He truly is,” Adam said.

      “But tomorrow’s Christmas Eve!”

      “A perfectly good day for a wedding,” Nick said.

      “Who are you marrying?” William asked.

      Adam met his younger brother’s gaze. “Have you ever heard of Lady Fiona Hollingsworth?”

      “I don’t believe you . . .” William shook his head, his shocked gaze darting from one brother to the other. “She’s a viscount’s daughter. And she’s beautiful. I don’t care how legendary Nick’s bedchamber prowess is, he couldn’t coax an aristocrat—an aristocrat I’ll vow he doesn’t even know—into his marriage bed.”

      The very thought of sharing his bedchamber with Lady Fiona sent blood thundering to Nick’s loins. Had someone told him yesterday that he would be marrying Lady Fiona Hollingsworth he would have thought that person a raving lunatic. Yet here he was on the eve of their wedding—oddly with no regrets. In fact, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough to please him.

      “It wasn’t his bedchamber charms—but his pockets—that attracted the lady,” Adam explained.

      “Why Nick?” William asked. “She could snare any peer of the realm she wanted—except Warwick.”

      Damn. Did everyone know of that scoundrel Warwick’s mistreatment of Lady Fiona, Nick wondered. He did not at all like to be aiding the man. But Warwick was foreign secretary. And Nick was a patriot.

      “Personally, I think she fancies our brother,” Adam said.

      Nick remembered how she had watched him at the theatre last night and wished to God what Adam was saying were true. But, of course, it wasn’t. One had only to see her this morning with that damn Warwick to know it was that man whom she still loved.

      “She fancies the twenty-five thousand I’ll spend to free her brother.” He turned to William to explain.

      When Nick was finished telling him about the kidnapping, Will said, “So I’m to deal with the bandits?”

      “You’ll be well protected. You can ride your coach-and-four onto my yacht for the crossing, and on land you’ll have four armed postilions, as well as four more armed men in and on the coach.” That should sweeten the pot for his youngest brother, Nick thought. Will was happiest when operating under the threat of danger. No position in an indoor establishment would ever appeal to Will.

      “Sounds very much like the time I smuggled bullion out of Frankfurt,” Will said, his green eyes sparkling.

      Nick smiled. “Let’s hope you do as fine a job this time.”

      “No one at the bank knows of the substantial withdrawal since I’m taking care of it myself,” Adam said, “so I wouldn’t expect any trouble this side of the channel.”

      “What’s the other matter you wish me to attend to?” William asked Nick.

      “I wish you to begin buying up as many francs as you can.”

      William quirked a brow.

      “The foreign secretary has asked for our assistance in crushing the French,” Adam said. “Actually, he approached Nick.”

      Nick shrugged. “We were at Cambridge together, though not well acquainted.”

      “I never knew you had such aristocratic connections,” William said. “How did you make the acquaintance of Lady Fiona?”

      “Actually, I met her at Tat’s.”

      “The hell you say!” William gave his brother an are-you-out-of-your-mind glance. “Women don’t go to Tat’s!”

      “She was with her brother, who was rather forced to introduce us.”

      Adam directed his attention at William. “Methinks the lady was taken with Nick.”

      Oddly, Nick wished his brothers were right. “Hardly,” he said. “I didn’t see her again until last night, two years after the first meeting.”

      “You went to her last night?” William asked.

      “No. She came to me. This morning.”

      Adam and William exchanged amused glances.

      “It’s NOT what you two think!” Nick said.

      “Well, tell me this,” William said. “Are you going to sleep with her?”

      Nick’s heart seemed to be racing right out of his chest. “Of course I’m going to sleep with her! This time tomorrow, she’ll be my wife.”

      My wife. He still could scarcely credit it.

      Dismissing