Never Fall for Your Fiancee

She slammed the back door hard as she charged through, not caring if it knocked his perfectly straight, perfectly white, perfectly superficial teeth out. As much as she needed his money, Minerva was too furious to regret telling him to go to hell. No doubt remorse would come soon enough, although hell would have to freeze over before she allowed him to see how much his twenty miserable pounds meant to her.

“Thank heavens you’re back!” Payne appeared in front of her, blocking her path. His harried eyes flicked over her shoulder to where his wastrel, disappointing master was rapidly bringing up the rear. “Your mother is here.”

“But she can’t be!” Hugh came alongside, taking up more of the hallway than was necessary. Further proof if proof were needed he was intrinsically selfish. “She can’t possibly be here for at least a week.”

“Well, I can assure you she is, my lord. And what is worse, she is currently ensconced in the drawing room with a fresh pot of tea, her husband, Lord Bellingham, the actress, and the younger Misses Merriwell.”

She felt Hugh deflate beside her as her own stomach dropped to her toes. “Bloody hell.”

“Bloody hell indeed, my lord. As I greeted your mother at the front door, everyone else came through the back and they met in the middle. There was absolutely nothing I could do to prevent it.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Hugh rake his hand through his hair as he frantically looked toward her, and quashed the charitable urge to feel sorry for him. He had every bit of this coming, and she would enjoy watching it. She was done with being such a soft touch. “I’m doomed.”

“Not necessarily, my lord. While I will admit she seemed shocked to see them, once Lord Bellingham had concluded the introductions, she appeared delighted. From what I have witnessed in the half an hour since, they are all having a perfectly lovely visit. Minerva’s mother is currently recounting what happened to Mr. Landridge in the Cairngorms and your own mother is on the edge of her seat, thoroughly engrossed in the tale. However, I do recommend you make haste in case Mrs. DeVere gets too carried away.” Payne grabbed Hugh and pushed him forward. “The sooner she sees you, the sooner we can send everyone to their rooms to rest and change for dinner.”

Minerva trailed after them, her mind reeling, and her heart beating too fast in her chest. She felt sick, scared, panicked—obviously still incensed at the selfish, shallow, mercenary clod Hugh—but beneath all that was the unmistakable glimmer of hope. She could still earn her forty pounds and not have to dispatch Vee in the process. When Hugh stopped dead, she almost slammed into the back of him.

“I can’t. Not yet. I need to think…” But it was too late.

“Hugh?” An older woman turned the corner and beamed. “My darling!”

Arms outstretched, she rushed toward him and hugged him tight. Whatever Minerva had imagined his mother to look like, this petite, pretty, surprisingly young woman was not it. She barely reached Hugh’s chest.

“Are you surprised to see me?”

All color had drained from his face. “Very … I didn’t expect you for at least a fortnight.”

“We got an earlier crossing at the last minute, by which time it was pointless writing to you about it.” Her deep blue eyes, so like her vexing son’s, peeked around the shielding wall of his big, vexing body and took in Minerva with barely disguised curiosity.

In that moment, she realized one very pertinent thing. Hugh’s mother was as surprised to see Minerva as he was her. Which suggested she hadn’t believed he had a fiancée and was here to put an end to all his nonsense. “And this must be Minerva?”

Hugh turned, his expression uncertain, obviously waiting for her to decide his fate. He knew she could destroy him in one fell swoop. He also knew only she had the power to save him. The boot was now firmly on the other foot, and this boot had no leaky holes in the sole.

Power …

What a triumphant, heady feeling.

One she had never had cause to experience before. No wonder the rich enjoyed it. “Indeed I am, my lady.” Minerva stepped forward and bobbed a surprisingly graceful curtsey. “It is so wonderful to meet you.” She was oddly proud of her ambiguous and noncommittal answer. Some devil inside her had taken over, and she realized she would rather enjoy making Hugh sweat.

The older woman took her hands, holding them tightly as she examined her from top to bottom, smiling. “I must say, you are not at all what I pictured. Hugh neglected to mention you were tall or dark haired. He did, however, describe one thing correctly. You are inordinately beautiful … and from his letters, come across as eminently sensible. Which beggars the obvious question.” Those wily eyes flicked back to her son for a second before twinkling back at Minerva. “What on earth do you see in Hugh?”

“What an excellent question.” She could tell he was holding his breath, could tell he was willing her to rescue him. If she did, it wouldn’t be to save his sorry skin. “When I first met him, I suspected he had hidden depths.”