A Secret Affair by Valerie Bowman Page B

impromptu auction and the proceeds will go to the animals again. Besides, this is the last time I shall be able to participate in such an event.” She winked at Jordan. “You’d best bid top coin for me, my love.”
    Jordan whistled. “I’m not certain I can afford you, my darling.” But the smile on his face shone with adoration.
    “I believe this is where I take my leave,” murmured Lord Medford from Charlie’s side. The viscount stood, bowed to both sisters, said his good-byes, and quickly left the room.
    Why did Charlie have a sinking feeling he should have followed? Lord Medford always knew what he was about.
    The chairs were cleared to the back of the room in short order, and a makeshift dais was fashioned by placing two huge volumes of books next to each other on the floor. The first young lady for auction was Miss Merrywood. The second, Lady Sarah Rivington. They were bid upon in short order by Michael Holloway and Lord Bramley for the tidy sum of five pounds each. Annie went next, and Jordan, with much laughter and goading from the crowd, bid twenty-five pounds for his future wife. Annie pleaded with her future brothers-in-law to up their bids. By the end, Jordan had promised to donate fifty pounds to the Society, and Annie fell laughingly into his arms.
    Next, Annie danced over to where Frances sat and tugged her friend’s hand.
    “No, no. I’d really rather not,” Frances said, and Charlie watched with mounting ire. Frances was shy. She didn’t wish to stand up in front of everyone. He knew just how she felt.
    “Oh, you must,” Annie replied, grinning at Frances. “For the animals, my dear.”
    Frances bit her lip, but finally acquiesced, and was soon standing atop the two books, quietly surveying the drawing room’s occupants.
    “Now!” Annie announced. “Here we have Miss Birmingham. Beautiful, smart, and exceedingly clever. She can sew a button on a gown in less than a minute, and I can honestly say I have never been able to best her at draughts. What is the opening bid?”
    “Fifty-one pounds!” Sir Stuart shouted. “I bid fifty-one pounds!”
    Charlie clenched his jaw. Annie’s eyes looked as if they might pop from their sockets. And Frances looked as if she might swoon, if she were a swooner, that is.
    “What? Why, fifty-one pounds.” Annie pressed her hand to her chest. “My, that is a generous bid.”
    Charlie glanced at Sir Stuart. The man had a smug smile on his face. He obviously intended to be the night’s highest bidder, and he was already certain his bid would not be matched. Annie had clearly invented this little game for the sake of providing Sir Stuart with the competition she’d asked Charlie to deliver. He didn’t like being a pawn in a game like this. If Frances had second thoughts about Sir Stuart, that was none of his affair.
    “Sixty.” The word escaped Charlie’s lips before he’d even had a chance to examine it. Game or not, by God, he would not let Sir Stuart win this.
    Annie’s gaze flew to his face and the hint of a smile played at her lips. “Sixty,” she repeated softly, nodding to Charlie.
    Charlie glanced over to see Sir Stuart’s condemning glare. He smiled serenely at the younger man. Take that, sop .
    “What about sixty-five?” Annie asked, the impish grin still perched on her face.
    “Sixty-five,” came Sir Stuart’s reply, a bit less confident this time.
    Charlie kept his gaze trained on Frances. She looked a bit stunned but also miserable. He wanted to end the misery for her. But Stuart Walters was going to lose .
    “Seventy-five,” Charlie said simply, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. He could feel Jordan’s questioning gaze and Tim and Michael’s startled ones, but he didn’t look at his brothers.
    “What about—?” Annie called out.
    “Eighty-five.” Stuart raised his chin and gave Charlie a challenging stare.
    Frances gulped. Charlie saw her throat working. He didn’t want to prolong this