Page 19 of A Gentleman's Wager

That raised a laugh. “Ah, yes…yes, very droll. Well, it seems he’s set his heart on Miss Stanley. Devil knows why he imagines he’s a chance. I’m certain Lucerne doesn’t rightly approve of it. Wakefield hardly being her equal, but given their feelings for one another are apparently mutual, I suppose Lucerne sees it as a means of keeping closer watch on things. I don’t suppose it hurts that it puts Miss Rushdale under his roof either.”

That was the second allusion to a bond between Lucerne and Miss Rushdale where, to his knowledge, none existed. Food for thought.

“And no one will object to Wakefield’s suit? That seems… extraordinary, given the disparity of their worth.”

Charles irritably scratched at the back of his neck. He was a fidgety sort of man, forever pinching and scratching at some part or other of his anatomy. Absolute buffoon, yet affably so. “She’s some stuffy aunt in London, but, besides her there’s only Rushdale who might put a stop to it, and he’s no interest in her. Likes his women warm and willing, if you take my meaning, and a deal less delicate.”

“Then he won’t stand in Wakefield’s way?”

“Didn’t I just say that? Why so many questions? You’ve not taken a fancy to her, have you? I didn’t think you were set for the marriage mart.”

“No indeed.” Vaughan turned over the top card of the deck, revealing a joker. Charles’s gaze flicked uneasily between the card and the spray of Spanish lace at Vaughan’s wrist. “Then pray tell what devilment are you about?” he asked cagily enough to make it plain he was uncertain if he genuinely desired an answer. Vaughan obligingly gave him none.

“Can I tempt you to a wager?” he asked instead.

Charles snatched up the cards ready to deal.

“Ah, not of that sort.” Vaughan circled the table to grasp the back of the fellow’s chair, then leaned over him so that his dark ringlets grazed Charles’s shoulders. “I had something more diverting in mind. A real wager.”

“I’m not at all sure I follow.” Charles wriggled uncomfortably on his cushioned seat, and perspiration began to bead upon his brow.

“It’s quite straightforward. Sixty guineas say I can seduce Miss Stanley before Wakefield does.”

Charles swivelled around to see Vaughan’s face. “Sixty guineas on that? No, damn it man, you’re virtually assured of success. You’re a known lech and Wakefield’s too much of a gentleman for you to fail.”

“Is he indeed?” Vaughan muttered to himself. He could not claim that as his experience of the captain.

“Now if you managed to bed Bella Rushdale before Lucerne does, then I’ll be impressed. She’s clearly enamoured of him, and did you notice, he gave her a personal tour of the house when she arrived? Did you get as much? I was afforded only a bottle of sherry and a room with a draughty sash window.”

“More work for less reward,” Vaughan responded, thinking aloud.

Whereupon 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 French doors. He watched Charles’s reflection in the glass as the squire mopped his brow.

“It’s a bitLes Liaisons Dangereuses, isn’t it?”

Vaughan offered him a nonchalant shrug. “Except, I have no intention of dying, or becoming obsessed.”

“What if people find out?”

What if they did? “Then I’m the villain, Charles.”

The man rubbed at his double chin. Then he produced his pocketbook and scrawled a reminder. “Very well, sixty guineas it is, but do let’s make it both. More of a challenge, what?”

Vaughan raised one brow. “If you insist.”

They shook hands on it, just like gentlemen.

-13-

Bella

“Annabella Rushdale… How lovely!”

Bella checked a frown, then turned to greet the speaker. Millicent Hayes usually meant trouble for someone, and she had her prying younger sister in tow. Bella’s breath caught – Millicent’s dress was a triumph of vulgarity and sensuality. The muslin barely concealed her lavish bosom, and she’d clearly dampened her petticoats to make them cling. All at once, Bella wished she’d put a little more thought into her attire. Her dress had a high waist in the latest style, but perhaps she’d chosen a more vibrant shade than was popular for an evening gown and her hair was lavishly curled all over, not only in the front so that the ringlets framed her face.

“Have you been here long? Miranda and I just arrived. 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, not wishing to encourage her rival. The Hayes sisters were daughters of a wealthy haberdasher with their eyes on advancement. Any manner of advancement. Joshua had once intimated that Millicent would settle for the comfort and luxury afforded a nobleman’s mistress over marriage and position to a lesser man. On the face of it, Bella was inclined to agree.