A Gentleman's Wager (5 page)

‘I brought my horse so that we can go riding,’ she said,
awkwardly
trying to explain her presence. With Mark, things had always been so easy, but then she’d been in charge. Lucerne was an entirely different matter. He was used to fashionable London parties and probably thought her country manners and clothes rather quaint.

She met his gaze again, to find his expression dancing between desire and gentle mockery. Bella parted her lips, inviting him to speak. Instead, he leaned forwards slightly. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to deliver the Rubicon kiss, but he merely pressed his thumb to her lips and smiled.

‘I assume your groom’s taken your horse.’

Bella nodded. She scrunched up her gloves and shoved them in a pocket.

Lucerne wrinkled his forehead slightly. ‘So what now? Would you like to see the house, or shall I introduce you to some of my more, ah, more sociable guests?’

‘And Vaughan?’ she asked. ‘Did I interrupt you?’

Lucerne shook his head and then smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure Vaughan will entertain himself.’

Bella headed down the stairs in the direction of music and laughter, and hoped she’d pass for fashionable. Her dress had a high waist in the latest style, but perhaps she’d chosen a more vibrant shade of green than was expected. Lucerne had shown her around the areas that he’d had refurbished, then escorted her to the room which was to be hers for the duration. After that, he’d left her to change.

In the entrance hall, a footman was announcing the arrivals and guiding them towards the grand chamber. Bella followed in behind Dr Garth, the local physician, and his wife. She scanned the sea of faces. It seemed half the county had been invited.

‘Bella … how lovely.’

Bella checked a frown, then turned to greet the voice. Millicent Hayes usually meant trouble for someone, and she had her prying sister trailing behind. Bella caught her breath – Millicent’s dress was a triumph of vulgarity and sensuality. The muslin barely concealed her lavish bust, and she’d clearly dampened the fabric to make it cling. Her dark ringlets had been teased forwards to frame her face and bosom, rather than back as was the style.

‘Have you been here long? Miranda and I have just arrived, and we’ve had a quick look about. Lauwine looks nice. Viscount Marlinscar must have spent a lot of money on it.’ She leaned over conspiratorially. ‘Tell me, is he very wealthy?’

Bella grunted vaguely. She didn’t want to encourage her as a rival. The Hayes sisters were daughters of a wealthy haberdasher and had their eyes on advancement, although Joshua had once expressed the opinion that Millicent would make somebody’s husband a wonderful mistress, implying that she’d settle for comfort and luxury over marriage and position. On the face of it, Bella was inclined to agree.

Millicent waved insincerely to someone in the crowd, then turned to her sister. ‘Fetch me a drink, and find out who else is here.’ She waited until Miranda had left, then turned and linked arms with Bella. ‘Let’s mingle. But not that way –’ she tugged Bella into the thick of the crowd. ‘– Sir Godric’s over there, and he’s already drunk and lecherous.’

Louisa hurriedly smoothed rouge over her lips, then stood up straight, pulled her shoulders back and gave a sigh. She was out of time and would have to do as she was. Dressing without the help of Bella’s maid had slowed things considerably, but after seeing what the girl got up
to
with Joshua she was keen to avoid Emma’s touch. Perhaps Bella had taken the sensible option when she’d insisted on coming on horseback. The carriage was warmer, but her friend had arrived in plenty of time to dress. However, it was too late to change anything now. She snatched up her fan and skirts, and sprinted along the corridor towards the main stairs.

‘Look out.’

A firm hand grasped her shoulder, bringing her to a sudden halt on the landing, and then spun her around. Slightly disoriented, Louisa put her hand out for balance and felt thick soft velvet brush against her palm. She looked up at the darkly clad figure, into the brightest violet-coloured eyes she’d ever seen.

‘What’s the hurry?’ he asked in a low soft voice. His hands slid down her back to her waist and pulled her closer, so that his warm breath brushed her ear. Louisa blinked slowly, conscious of the heat that radiated from beneath his silk waistcoat, and aware also of the taut muscles of his abdomen, and the slight bulge beneath his breeches where his legs pressed against hers.

‘I …’ she recoiled slightly, her breath heavy in her lungs, as her mind recalled the image of Joshua rampant in the green armchair.

‘Let her go, Pennerley.’

The sound of Frederick Wakefield’s familiar voice made her jump, but the grip around her waist only tightened.

‘In a moment, once I’ve claimed my prize,’ said her captor. He tilted her chin so she was looking straight into his handsome face, and lowered his mouth. Louisa instinctively parted her lips.

The sensation of his touch flooded through her already aroused body. His tongue moved between her lips and grazed hers, wakening desires she hardly dared put
names
to. It was a very sensual kiss, almost dizzying. Nothing like the chaste, nervous kisses she’d shared with Frederick, who gasped behind her.

Pennerley released her and she felt as if she was falling.

‘Come along, Wakefield,’ he said. ‘We’re expected downstairs.’

Louisa stood for a moment in mute shock, while Frederick’s expression danced between affront and apology. A complete stranger had just stolen a kiss from her without so much as a by-your-leave, and she’d enjoyed it. She rubbed her mouth but could still feel his lips touching hers, and the sensation was strangely delicious. She wondered who he was. Frederick had called him Pennerley.

A shrill laugh from across the hall brought her back to earth. Miranda Hayes, an acquaintance of Bella’s, covered her face with her fan. Louisa did her best to ignore both Miranda’s childish giggles and the strange rapture she herself felt, and followed the gentlemen downstairs.

Lucerne looked appreciatively at himself in the full-length mirror that stood at the end of the Salon, while Charles Aubury hovered in the reflection. He liked the rotund landowner, but hoped that Aubury’s infamous taste for gambling did not spoil anyone’s enjoyment of the ball. Behind him the room was set out for cards, two neat rows of baize-topped tables lit by glittering chandeliers. The sound of a string quartet drifted through the open door, accompanied by the chatter of voices.

‘Cold but beautiful,’ he remarked of his appearance and smiled, remembering to be amused at his own vanity.

‘Always,’ said Vaughan, and he appeared in the mirror beside Lucerne. ‘Your guests are asking for you.’

‘Right.’

Lucerne admired their combined reflection for a moment before giving his own outfit a final once-over. He’d dressed in a black velvet coat, cut away at the front in a military style to reveal a band of his satin waistcoat. Silver braiding trailed across the front of the velvet, ran up to the collar and then across the back of the shoulders. His breeches were of cream silk, tight to show his legs and bottom to good effect – a point he hoped wouldn’t be wasted on Bella, and that Vaughan seemed to have noted.

Lucerne smiled at their reflection and shook his head slightly, realising his friend was scrutinising him. He swung around to face him, but Vaughan immediately transferred his gaze to the rings on his right hand.

‘The guests,’ Lucerne said to fill the awkward moment, then swept between the tables with a few graceful strides. ‘See that Charles doesn’t start gambling immediately, would you?’ he said over his shoulder as he neared the door.

Vaughan inclined his head a fraction.

‘Humph!’ Charles snorted disagreeably, spluttering port over the front of his salmon-pink waistcoat, but Lucerne merely smiled graciously at him and then left the room.

‘Perhaps you’d care to join me at the faro table, Lord Pennerley,’ suggested Charles, as he brushed the drops of port aside. His main reason for attending tonight was to make the most of the card tables, and to ogle the local maids. He wasn’t about to take a blind bit of notice of Lucerne Marlinscar, who had chosen to move to the country while everyone else was heading to town. He peered hopefully up at Vaughan.

‘I find faro rather dull.’

‘Oh! Whist then, or basset.’ He tried not to feel downcast as the marquis feigned boredom. ‘Damn it, man, everyone’s prepared to bet on something.’

‘Perhaps.’

That was more like it. He reached for the decanter and topped up his glass, sure that with a bit more persuasion the marquis would join him.

‘Tell me, Aubury. You know these parts. What do you know of Lucerne’s guests?’

‘Which ones?’

‘Joshua Rushdale, his sister and their friend.’

‘Nothing very exciting.’ He grinned lewdly. ‘Not like the tales I could tell you about some of the guests.’ The marquis waved him back to the point with an elegant turn of his wrist that sent a spray of Spanish lace over his coat cuff. Charles sighed. He was keen to relate some of the salacious gossip he’d heard about the elder Miss Hayes, and he thought that would be more to Pennerley’s taste than anything he had on Squire Rushdale. However, if talking about Joshua, who’d thrice beaten him at billiards, meant they could sit down to some cards, he was willing to go on all night. ‘Rushdale’s his closest neighbour,’ he said.

‘For what reason are they his special guests?’ Vaughan interrupted.

‘As I was saying, they’re his close neighbours, and Wakefield pleaded. Apparently, he’s set his heart on Miss Stanley.’

‘So I observed. Is anyone likely to object?’

Charles irritably scratched the back of his neck where his buckram stock pinched. ‘I doubt it. She doesn’t have much in the way of family, except some stuffy aunt in London, and Joshua won’t be interested. He likes his women warm and willing. If you take my meaning.’

‘So he won’t stand in the captain’s way?’

‘No. Why so many questions? You’ve not taken a fancy to her too, have you?’

The sadistic gleam that lit in Vaughan’s eyes at that moment made him wish he hadn’t asked. He suspected it heralded trouble.

‘Can I tempt you to place a substantial bet?’ Vaughan asked. Charles nodded in relief, and picked up the cards ready to deal. ‘Ah, no.’ Vaughan grasped the back of Charles’s chair and leaned over him so that his dark ringlets grazed Aubury’s shoulder. ‘I had something more diverting in mind. A real bet.’

Charles wriggled uncomfortably against the cushioned seat. ‘I’m not sure I follow,’ he confessed, and swivelled around to see Vaughan’s face. It didn’t yield him any clues.

‘I’m proposing that we stake sixty guineas that I can seduce Miss Stanley before Wakefield.’

‘Sixty guineas on that!’ Charles objected. He frowned and shook his head. ‘No, damn it, man; Wakefield’s far too much of a gentleman for you to fail. Now, if you manage to bed Bella Rushdale before Lucerne does, then I’ll be impressed.’

‘More work for less reward.’

Charles choked on his port. ‘It’s got bones in it,’ he complained between coughing and topping up his glass. Vaughan offered him a handkerchief, then turned towards the window. Charles mopped his brow with the silk, whilst he tried not to think about how Vaughan intended to attain his goal. He’d heard enough rumours to know the marquis wasn’t afraid of taking risks. ‘It’s a bit
Les Liaisons Dangereuses
, isn’t it?’ he observed.

Vaughan nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders in response. ‘I have no intention of dying, or becoming obsessed, if that’s what you think.’

‘Yes, but what if people find out?’

‘Then I’m the villain.’

Charles opened his pocketbook and scrawled a reminder. ‘Very well, sixty guineas it is. But let’s make it both.’

Pennerley lifted one of his dark eyebrows. ‘If you insist.’

They shook hands on it, just like gentlemen.

Bella was listening patiently while Millicent passed judgement on Lucerne’s guests. Her current subject was his tenant, Mrs Virginia Castleton or, more particularly, her usual retinue of young ladies not long out and keen to impress. After Mrs Castleton’s husband had died fighting in the American War of Independence, she had taken on the role of matriarch to Reeth and Grinton society, and both Bella and Millicent had served as part of her entourage until they’d outgrown her tutelage and found their own way.

‘No competition there,’ Millicent remarked. ‘And there’s certainly a few who’ll benefit from Virginia’s charm school.’

They paused to admire Lucerne and Marquis Pennerley. ‘Of course, old money is more attractive than new money, don’t you think?’ said Millicent. ‘I mean, look at Joshua and Charles. Not that Charles isn’t a jolly sort, but …’ She let her words trail off.

Bella frowned. ‘There’s not much old money around any more,’ she said. ‘Most of the old estates are mortgaged or bankrupt. They don’t care where the money comes from.’ She chose to ignore the veiled insult to her brother. Millicent was never worth rising to. Once she knew the claws were in, she didn’t stop digging.

‘Who’s that?’ Millicent asked, as Captain Wakefield joined the two men. ‘He’s quite smart, and rather manly. What do you think?’

‘Captain Wakefield. I believe he’s spoken for,’ ventured Bella.

‘Oh! A soldier. Sounds fun. Well, I’m off to play cards. It’s been lovely. I’ll see you later.’

Bella smiled, and watched her leave with a mixture of relief and foreboding.

The room had become crowded with card players. Louisa ignored the hand before her and glanced around at the golden interior of the salon, hoping to catch sight of either Bella or Frederick. To her dismay, neither was seated at any of the other card tables.

‘Pay attention, miss,’ said her partner, a local squire named Charles Aubury, and he tapped her lightly on the back of her hand. Louisa graciously bore the reminder and reluctantly scooped up her cards only to stare unseeing at the pictures. They’d already played several hands and she’d borne his lewd remarks and flattery with goodwill, but there were limits to her endurance. She’d never wanted to play whist in the first place. She wanted to find Frederick and take a turn about the dance-floor, but Charles had refused to let her go until she’d accompanied him for a few games. He’d had at least that.