Page 2 of Until I’m Safe in Your Arms

The smooth brandy produced a steady burn all the way down to Alex’s stomach, providing some much needed comfort. If he’d known what his grandfather was going to announce, he’d have doubled the amount of liquor he’d poured. “What do you mean?”

A smile hitched up one side of Grandfather’s mouth. “Just that, my boy. I’m dying. Mr. Thomas Peacock, a most eminent physician in the study of the heart, tells me that mine will give out within the year.”

“But Grandfather…”

“Are you certain this man isn’t a quack?”

“He can’t be sure of this, can he?”

The din of his cousins’ voices was enough to make Alex grab the decanter once more and pour a more generous slug into the tumbler.

“You look fine, Grandfather. The blasted man’s daft.”

“Good God.” Tom plucked the decanter out of Alex’s hands and poured himself another shot. “Isn’t there anything that can be done?”

“I’m getting ready to do the only thing I can do to give myself peace of mind when my time comes.” Grandfather shot a look at Tom. “Hand me that decanter, please.” Tom gave it over and Grandfather poured himself a hefty—well, almost half—glass of the brandy. “I’m going to set you,” he swept his hand dramatically around the circle that had formed about him, “all my grandsons of eligible age—a wager.”

Despite their shock, all of them, Alex included, leaned in toward their grandparent. The word “wager” was like a flame to a moth as far as they were concerned.

“What’s the wager?” Yule, the most pragmatic of them, would be the one to ask that.

Grandfather chuckled. “As I’ve got one foot in the grave, about to stare my Maker in the face, I wish to have my affairs in order before I ‘shuffle off this mortal coil.’”

Cocking his head, Alex scrutinized their grandfather’s face. He was simply too jovial for a man about to die. “I’d think you’d wish to consult your attorney about your affairs, not your grandsons.”

“Oh, I’ve done that to be sure, my boy. Andrews is taking care of everything regarding the funeral and all the matters concerning the dukedom as it passes to Harry.” Grandfather glanced around the room, seeming to wait for something.

“Why isn’t Harry here?” Julius spoke up, a frown on his face. “Or his brother, John. Or our brother, Aubrey?”

“As I said, for this wager, they have to be eligible.” Deep blue eyes flitting from one face to another, Grandfather sipped his drink and waited.

“Eligible for what?” Francis’s frown matched his twin’s.

“Marriage.”

The word fell on Alex’s ears like the crash of thunder during a storm. It electrified them all.

“Marriage?” Tom’s voice reached an unusual height as the horror sunk in. “You want us all to get married?”

To Alex’s astonishment, his grandfather nodded.

“But I’m scarcely in my twenties.” Tom’s panicked gaze roved from one face to the next, seeking support. “I’ve still got a lot of wild oats to sow. I don’t want to get married yet.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Tom.” Grandfather didn’t look particularly sorry, and Tom was looking rather green at the moment. “Because for this wager to be valid, all six of you must participate. There can be no exceptions.”

“What’s this wager, Grandfather?” Alex held up a hand as Tom leaped forward to protest. He gave Yule and Sandy a stern look as well. The two most avid gamblers in a family known for its propensity to wager on anything under the sun might agree to marry the next woman they met on the street if the stakes of the wager were right. “We need to know before any of us will agree to it.”

“Certainly, Alexander.” The glint in his grandfather’s eyes gave Alex no confidence at all. “A gentleman always makes himself familiar with the terms of the wager before agreeing to it.” He nodded to his grandsons, and they all took seats, although none of them looked comfortable. Only Yule and Sandy appeared in any way excited.

“What brought this on, Grandfather?” Alex couldn’t help himself. All these events had come from out of the blue, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“When we all attended Harry’s wedding two months ago, I couldn’t help but feel inordinately proud that the Quartermain name and the Welwyn title would go on as soon as Harry gets an heir.” Grandfather chuckled. “I suspect that announcement will be made in the near future.”

Alex had to agree. Harry was head over heels for his bride, Celeste. They hadn’t returned from their honeymoon in Paris yet. Newlyweds in the city of love would likely mean only one thing: an heir.

“But I began to be concerned that none of my other grandsons of marriageable age had found the wedded bliss of your eldest cousin. And while my line is assured, your surnames have not been. For you all to be true Quartermains, with unimpeachable honor, your own surnames must be carried on throughout time. Therefore, I have devised a plan to marry you all off within the year.”

“Within the year?” Francis’s horror might have been comical had it not been shared by all of them in the room.