Undercover Duke

children.”
Sheridan touched her elbow. “Come, Miss Pryde. Let’s go fetch you a glass of champagne from the adjoining room and leave my boorish brother to his losing streak.”
“We may yet win!” Thornstock cried after them as they escaped into the other room, laughing.
They walked over to the table where a yawning footman stood at the ready to offer them champagne.
“My brother is a sore loser, I’m afraid.” Sheridan gestured to the footman to pour a glass for her. “Always has been. Which is why I rarely play any sort of game with him. He doesn’t understand the point of simply enjoying the game.”
“And what games do you enjoy?”
He shrugged. “Chess. Croquet.” His eyes gleamed at her. “Any kind of horse race.”
“I do love a good horse race myself. We must go riding sometime.”
Turning pensive, he nodded. “Sometime, yes.”
After the footman handed her the filled glass, Sheridan led her over to the fireplace.
She sipped some champagne. “But getting back to your brother—for his sake, I hope he’s as wealthy as I’ve heard . . . and not prone to bid too high on card games or horse races. I would hate to see his duchess beggared so early in their marriage. Judging from the little bit of time I spent talking to her tonight, I like her.”
“We all do. But trust me, Olivia has nothing to fear. Thorn can’t be too worried about funds, since he was willing to loan Lisbourne money.”
“Lisbourne!” She glanced back toward the door and lowered her voice. “I’ve always heard it said that he’s rich.”
“Not according to Grey,” Sheridan said. “I gather that years of gambling have finally caught up with him, and he’s not doing well financially. Although I don’t think it’s widely known.”
“Well, leave it to Grey to uncover such a secret. He’s good at that.” She shook her head. “Poor Mama. She’s set on having me marry the man because she’s certain he’s wealthy.”
Sheridan seemed to watch her closely. “But surely you would not wish such a match.”
“Good heavens, no. Aside from the fact that he’s over twice my age, he’s very . . . he has a tendency to . . .”
“Let his eyes roam where his hands dare not?”
A relieved sigh escaped her. She’d never tried to put such things into words for a man before. “Exactly.”
“Shall I call him out?” His voice held a note of steel that both shocked and thrilled her.
“For me?” Her pulse faltered at the thought until she realized he might be joking. “You wouldn’t do that, and you know it.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” he asked.
“I’m calling you a tease.”
His gaze grew shuttered. “Well, I am courting you. Isn’t that what a suitor would do?”
Oh. Right. Their subterfuge. She forced a smile. “A real suitor, perhaps. But not a pretend one. Still, although I know you don’t mean it, I appreciate the thought. Fortunately, Lord Lisbourne hasn’t done anything so far to warrant such an extravagant response . . . from a real suitor or a pretend one.”
“That’s good then. I would hate to waste a bullet on him.”
Her uncle’s voice came from the doorway. “I am now at your disposal, my dear girl. Even without being in the room, you brought me good luck. So we can leave if you wish.”
She had half a mind to say he could play another game if he wanted. She rarely had a chance to get Sheridan to herself. But she truly was exhausted, and there was no guarantee Sheridan would stay around.
“That would be nice, Uncle, thank you. I am rather tired.”
Lord Lisbourne appeared in the doorway next to her uncle. “I shall call on you and your mother tomorrow, Miss Pryde.”
Thanks for the warning. “I’m sure Mama will be delighted to have you.”
Being full of himself as usual, he didn’t even seem to register her own lack of enthusiasm. He merely nodded. “Good evening then.”
“The same to you, sir.”
As he walked back into the other room, engaging her uncle in conversation, Sheridan placed a hand on her elbow to stay her. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call him out?”
“Quite sure.”
“Nonetheless, tomorrow I will call on you and your mother myself. And try to time it so I arrive shortly after Lord Lisbourne.”
“Now that I would appreciate,” she said with a grateful smile. “If it’s no trouble.”
He stared at her a long moment before dropping his hand from her elbow with a shuttered look. “No trouble at all. You’re practically a member of our family. Grey would never forgive me for letting anything happen to his favorite cousin.”
Her heart sank. After kissing him, being kissed by him, dancing with him . . . laughing with him tonight, he still saw her as a little sister who needed protecting?
Not only was that disheartening, but she didn’t know if she could go back to being nothing more than a friend to Sheridan. Yet how much longer could she endure the battering that his mercurial nature gave her self-confidence?

Chapter Seven
The morning after Thorn’s party, Sheridan stared at the account ledgers for his estate, hoping to make the numbers resolve into something that made sense to him. Because he honestly couldn’t see why his various properties’ finances hadn’t shown any real improvement since a year ago, when the death of his father had forced Sheridan to take them over.
He’d instituted several of the changes to his crops Grey had suggested, but so far those hadn’t helped. When he’d mentioned that to Grey, his brother had said it would take time to see results. While Sheridan could understand that, surely their more abundant harvest this past autumn should have increased their income. Sheridan had even read up on ways to sell his property’s viable resources, like timber and game, and had begun auctioning off items that might turn a quick profit, but while it had helped slow the bleeding, it hadn’t stanched it entirely.
Damn it all to hell.
Sheridan shifted in his chair to stare out of