Page 71 of A Gentleman's Wager

Vaughan’s sour pout relaxed, then he twisted at the waist and fisted Lucerne’s cock. “I was thinking of something more immediate.”

“Vaughan, my valet.”

“Won’t see a thing if you blind him with your ejaculate.”

True to his expectations, Lucerne spent like an artillery blast.

The whole thing between them might still tie his guts in knots, but there was no denying how visceral his reaction to Vaughan’s manipulation was. Vaughan waved him goodbye, as Ivo arrived. Lucerne pulled on some drawers before presenting himself.

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Bella

Bella had only fifteen minutes to tidy herself and get dressed for dinner. Emma, her maid, sat twiddling her thumbs waiting for her in her bedchamber. She bustled about Bella like a mother hen with a pitchfork on seeing the state of her attire. “Devil take you, Miss, but what are you wearing? Is that a gentleman’s shirt? Whatever have you been about?”

“It’s of no consequence, and I’ll thank you not to speak of it. Come, help me into something clean.”

“Of no consequence, is it?” Emma planted her hands on her broad hips. “Do you not think that I might need to return it to its rightful owner?”

“Emma, you will not pry things from me with such tactics. I can return the shirt myself.”

“Return it yourself, huh,” the maid grumbled. “Look at it. Must you scrunch it so? It’s expensive lawn, that is. Whisper light, and twice as nice as anything you or Mr Rushdale own.”

Bella had never paid any attention to Joshua’s shirts. “Aren’t his lawn too?”

“Cambric.”

“I’ve never quite grasped the difference.”

“That, Miss, is because you don’t do the laundry, and you’ve no sense of finery. You’d wander around dressed like an urchin with mud halfway up your skirts and not notice it.”

“I did notice it,” Bella insisted, pointing to the bundle of cloth she’d dropped on the floor the moment she’d entered the room.

Emma sighed and went to retrieve it.

“Leave it. What have you set out for me?”

The maid waved an arm towards the bed. Bella glanced at the outfit, her blue silk, old but not so dated according to Louisa as most of her day dresses. “Yes, that will do.” It would have to. There wasn’t time to a fuss over such things now. There was barely enough time to be pinned and adequately coiffed.

“You’ve both hay and feathers in your hair,” Emma complained.

“Aren’t the latter all the rage?”

“Not of the sort you’re sporting.”

“Shoes?” Bella demanded, stumbling about.

“Here. Right here.”

Bella slipped her feet into the pale, buckled leather.

“That’s the dinner bell sounding a second time. Here’s your fan, Miss.”

She grabbed it and bolted towards the stairs. To her astonishment, the only person present when she reached the dining room was Pennerley. His excessive finery made him look as if he was expected at Court, not a country dinner. Presumably, he meant to impress Lucerne. She considered her dress again. Maybe she ought to have some new things made.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

The look he cast her was one of intense malevolence. Bella took an unconscious step backwards, which was clearly the wrong move, for he immediately approached, and trapped her against the wainscotting. His dark eyes flashed demonically in the dim light as she blinked up at him. “I warned you to stay away from Lucerne.”