Page 3 of A Wager With A Rake (Wicked Widows #32)

Court

W hen Harcourt Eliot, Earl of St. Germans—or Court as he had always insisted he be called if only to irritate his father—had started his day, the last thing he expected was that Theodosia would faint before him.

She was a beautiful force of nature and one of the strongest, most clever women he knew.

She’d been that way even as a girl when she insisted on running wild, climbing trees, and using vulgar language while away from her controlling mama.

Thankfully, he caught her and scooped her into his arms. To see her so vulnerable and broken before him made him want to horsewhip her father for the way the man had also treated her throughout the years.

Marrying her off the way he had should have been considered abuse as far as Court was concerned. He might not have cared much about Rebecca’s prospects, but he wouldn’t have forced her to wed an aged ogre.

“Settle into the house, at least for the night,” he called out to her servants. “But don’t unpack the trunks.”

Regardless of what she had expected upon her arrival, it didn’t change that the house legally belonged to him. He’d determine why she believed otherwise, set her up to rest for the night in one of the guest rooms, and then she’d be on her way in the morning.

He supposed that would put a damper on his plans to visit the local tavern to find a bit of intriguing company that evening.

But it wouldn’t kill him to abstain for the night.

He had done so for many nights, if he were honest with himself.

For no reason other than he just hadn’t felt up to it.

Although it was about time he returned to his rakish ways as he certainly wouldn’t be ushering a bride down the aisle.

Ever. And what else was he to do with his time but seek merriment?

At least he’d thought to stock his study with a bit of brandy while he was in residence, so the evening wouldn’t be completely dull.

Besides, he hadn’t seen Theodosia in years, and it might be nice to see how she’d fared.

He’d heard of her husband’s passing, but surely she hadn’t fallen in love with the man.

From everything he knew about Dundas, he wasn’t the most likable sort.

He still couldn’t believe that her father had married her off to that decrepit old codger.

He shuddered at the thought of what that must have been like for her.

Once he got her inside, he carried her to a settee in the closest parlor and gently laid her down.

A few of her black curls fell around her face, the perfect contrast to her flawless alabaster skin.

At the thought of her skin, he couldn’t help but notice the globes of her breasts emerging from the low neckline of her dress.

He hadn’t seen her since she was an unmarried miss taking the London season by storm. He grinned at her, recalling how she wasted no time flipping society on its head with her sharp tongue and penchant for creating the most salacious gossip.

There wasn’t a member of the upper echelons of society who didn’t know who she was. Much like himself, albeit his reputation was one of debauchery and a libertine lifestyle—and was mostly all true.

But while Theodosia had always been attractive, it was the very reason he kept his distance.

Because one stolen moment with her in a ballroom and he’d have enthusiastically ruined her.

Given the stories Rebecca had shared, Theodosia would have appreciated his efforts to ravage her against a random parlor wall during a ball to keep from marrying Dundas.

It wasn’t that he set out to ruin the unmarried ladies of the ton , but he’d been carefree and lived the way he wanted. He always felt like he’d been a disappointment to his father after years of being told so. He reached a point where he’d stopped trying.

The result would be the same, his father’s perpetual scowl of disgust, so he might as well live a life of merriment. A life of women, drinking, and cards, not caring what anyone thought.

He glanced down and saw the tight ridge forming in his breeches. Jesus, Court. It had been a mere five minutes, and his cock was ready to do his thinking for him. This was why he shouldn’t go so long without taking the edge off.

“Tess,” he whispered, brushing his hand along her soft cheek. He had to touch her. He could at least allow himself that. “Wake up, Tess.”

“Court?” Theodosia called out to him, stirring on the settee, the risk of her breasts exposing themselves to him even greater. He was a cad for wishing that it might happen.

He knelt on the floor beside her. Better for her to be met with his face than the undeniable bulge between his legs. “You’re all right. Just open your eyes for me.”

Her gray eyes blinked open and met his. They had always been the most intriguing shade he’d ever seen. The color of clouds before a storm, which suited her and the way she commanded attention and brought the thunder in every room she entered.

She looked around as if searching to determine where she was.

“Does your head hurt or anything?” he asked.

She shifted so that she was in a seated position. “I’m fine. It would appear that I wasn’t, in fact, having a nightmare. You are actually here.”

“Well, it’s a delight to see you as well, Tess.”

Theodosia rolled her eyes, and he was inclined to believe that she had nothing physically wrong with her. Everything about her appeared just as he remembered.

“There must be some mistake,” she started while rubbing her temples. Perhaps her head did ache. “Rosewood is mine. It was part of my dowry and left to me when Dundas passed.”

Court rose and sought the bell pull. He was surprised when one of the men who had arrived with Theodosia appeared only a few moments later.

“Might you fetch us a spot of tea, if you can find anything in the kitchen? I believe Lady Dundas could use a bit of refreshment.”

The man eyed Theodosia with concern and then gave Court a small nod before setting off to do as he was instructed.

Court turned back to face Theodosia, who had folded her arms beneath her chest, which only made her breasts even more visible and enticing, but Court did his best to focus his attention back on her face.

“Tess, I’m not sure what happened, but there is no point in continuing to debate the matter. I legally own Rosewood, and that is a fact. It would seem your father has struck again.”

She jumped to her feet, nostrils flaring, looking every bit that she might do something mad like challenge him to a duel. And Court’s cock jumped. Dammit.

“No. He can’t. I own Rosewood.”

He ran his hand down his face. It wasn’t his desire to have her feel as if something was taken from her, but it didn’t change the matter. “I can see that you believe that. But I have confirmed all legalities. I own the property outright, but you are welcome to stay here tonight…”

Theodosia scoffed, fisting her hands tightly at her sides. He could see the whites of her knuckles and wouldn’t be surprised if her nails drew blood in her palms. “You’re going to allow me to stay in my own home. How kind of you.” But her tone was anything but friendly.

“I am sympathetic to you, truly I am. We have known each other for a long time, and you are the closest friend of my sister, but it doesn’t change the ownership of Rosewood.”

“You bastard,” she ground out, stomping her foot in anger.

His patience was quickly waning, regardless of how tempting she had become before him with her fire and passion on full display.

But he’d had enough of being called names in his life, and she was out of line.

“Now you shall listen to me, Lady Dundas,” he practically growled.

“I am not the villain here. You can take the matter up with your father as he was the one in possession of the deed and the one who didn’t know when to walk away from a game his drunk arse couldn’t win. ”

Her father was also the one who hadn’t hesitated to take the property from Court’s family many years ago in a similar game of chance, and winning it back from the man was one wrong of his father’s that Court had set out to right.

It was a matter of pride to prove to himself that he was the better man than the previous earl.

“You could give the deed back to me. You know this estate should belong to me.”

Was she mad? She expected him to turn over an estate to her that was legally his.

Again. For no other reason than because she had declared she had been wronged?

He’d been wronged, too. Well, his family had been wronged.

And a gentleman didn’t just sign over a property to a female who wasn’t of his relation for no good reason other than because she wanted it.

“I know nothing of a sort as I only know the legalities of my business dealings. It would seem you are the one who has not been properly informed. A conversation you might wish to have with your father.”

She looked for a moment as if she might cry, various emotions playing on her beautiful features as if the anger, hurt, and sadness all warred with each other, leaving him quiet before her to watch as he determined which would win out.

But none of them ended up being the victor as her expression turned cold and emotionless. “You indicated my staff and I might stay here for the evening? Assuming you mean what you say. The sun shall set soon, and I’d prefer not to travel at night. But we shall depart at first light.”

“Of course,” he said, his tone softening. “For what it’s worth, Tess, I’m very sorry for whatever mistruth was given to you.”

She held her hand up to him. “Save your apologies. They do nothing to change my situation, and I shall get to the bottom of what is going on here.”

“Allow me to show you to a room…”

“No need,” she shot back at him. “I know my way.”

He half expected that she might take over his chamber and commandeer the entire house to her will. She started toward the door, her butler appearing with a tray as she reached the doorway.

“Come with me, Pruett,” she said to the man. “You can bring that to the guest chamber and then send Jean to me. I wish to dress and then we shall dine at the inn tonight and depart early in the morning.”

“Tess,” Court called after her. “I shall escort you to dinner.”

“That is wholly unnecessary, my lord.” Her tone threatened to shift the season from summer to winter.

“It may not be safe for you on your own.” If she believed that he’d allow her to go to a tavern on her own, she was mistaken. Even if he had to go separately and watch her from another table.

Theodosia glared at him. “I shall have my staff, and you will find that I am quite capable of a great many things on my own. One must learn to care for themselves when they are repeatedly fucked and thrown to the wolves to feast on the remains.”

His jaw dropped open at the intensity and choice of her words. He felt for her, he very much did. Life had dealt her a shite deal, just as it had him. Well, perhaps his wasn’t quite as bad. He hadn’t been subjected to being bedded by a miserable, wrinkled old goat.

And he supposed he had earned his reputation, so he wasn’t entirely a blameless victim.

Much as Theodosia wasn’t exactly innocent from the way he’d known her to exact her venom on the whole of society.

But she had certainly suffered many injustices, and he should ensure her safety. It was the least he could do.

“Think of it as allowing me to enjoy your company.”

She rolled her eyes. “Even if I shan’t enjoy yours?”

“Oh, come now. Surely you haven’t decided to hate me for the rest of our days in the mere half hour you have been here.”

Her chest rose and fell from where she drew a deep breath and his gaze immediately fixed on her breasts again before he could stop himself. He was a singularly focused man at times.

“Very well,” she started, pulling his focus back to her piercing gray eyes where the storm raged and her flushed cheeks. “We shall depart in a half hour. If you aren’t ready, we shall leave without you.”

She turned on her heel and stormed from the room before he had a chance to respond, leaving him alone in his parlor with his cock throbbing against his breeches while he fought the urge not to chase after her and determine what other skills her sharp tongue might possess.

He found himself enthralled by the vibrant intensity of her spirit, a captivating mix of fierce independence and passionate vulnerability. A meek, biddable woman would never appeal to him.

And given Court’s age of eight-and-twenty and that he had yet to secure an heir, his father was on the verge of haunting him from the grave. But he was quite used to his father’s disappointment.

He was a mess, and he’d surely make a mess of marriage and family life. His father always said that Court was worthless, and any woman who spent too long in his presence would see it, too.

So he allowed no woman to get too close. His sister and Theodosia were the only exceptions, and he even kept them at arm’s length. He was the type of man who had long lost count of the women he’d enjoyed during his travels and the days spent distracting himself from the disdain of his father.

The effect of such distractions was wearing off, but he refused to contemplate that as it changed nothing.

He was content in ensuring his estates prospered even greater than under his father’s control and that he righted the matters where his father had erred.

That was enough for him. He had no need for a wife.

But given the reaction he had to his sister’s best friend, who he’d only just encountered for brief moments, and the wicked thoughts already running through his head, his desire for physical pleasure after an extended sexual drought was back in full force.

He adjusted himself, willing his erection to subside as he set off to his chamber to prepare to depart.

It would seem that he’d play the part of a gallant protector to the beautiful widow, so he’d tempt himself all evening and then seek another out to tend to his needs after she departed.

Because as much as he might want Theodosia, there was only one thing standing in his way from seducing her.

He wasn’t certain he could bed his sister’s friend.

If she were to develop feelings and want more, he’d break her heart and Rebecca would never forgive him if he should do so.

There was only one woman who was off-limits to preserve the peace in his family, and she would sleep under his roof that night.