Page 16 of A Lady's Wager
“And it would appear that I am the Lover.” The lieutenant laughed as James’s face scrunched.
“That is a terrible end, Lieutenant,” James said. “We should play again.” James jumped off his stool. “But this time I want to play with my green button. One moment.” He ran for the door.
Corah shook her head and bent down to retrieve the button from the floor. Silly boy. At least it allowed her a few moments with the lieutenant.
Just as she located the button, his hand closed around hers. She froze, allowing him to pull her hand up from the floor and rest it, cradled in his own, on the couch. Her fingers seemed to melt, encircled by the warmth of his skin.
“How did you enjoy the assembly?” he asked.
Her brain couldn’t come up with a lie. “You weren’t there.”
“I’m sorry.” His brow furrowed. “I’m not so easily caught.”
The wager. He knew? Heat crawled up her neck. She started to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“I didn’t want to return to Bristol when I left,” he said, running his thumb along her knuckles. Why did so small a gesture send such electricity through her entire being? “But then I couldn’t stop thinking about a certain friend’s sister. It made Newport rather dull.”
“I thought you were away on business.”
He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back, earning a faint grin. “So I was. There are many events afoot across the world. After a time I thought, with my future so uncertain, why not spend the time I have with the people…or person…whose company I enjoy most?”
He was leaving? Of course with the unrest in France and the king’s execution, England would have to be on her guard. No one knew what the French would do. The light that had filled her soul on his guarded declaration waned.
“Do you expect to leave soon?” she asked.
“No one knows. But I should return to Mrs. Stewart’s. I only wished for a few moments with you.” He brought her hand upand brushed his lips against her fingers. She tried to breathe, to draw in every aspect of this delicious moment, but her lungs wouldn’t cooperate. Then he winked. “Let us make the most of whatever time the Admiralty give us.” He rose. “Give my regrets to young James. I suppose I shall have to content myself with remaining the Lover.”
He left and she sank back against the couch. What had happened? He’d made his interest clear and in the next breath warned their time was short. She didn’t know what she was to do with that information. No one had told her what a girl was supposed to do in such a situation as this.
She bounced off the couch. What a ninny. He liked her. He’d admitted it. And for the first time in her life, she could genuinely say she liked him as well. He was right. Whatever direction life decided to take, they must make the most of it. She hurried to the corridor in search of the housekeeper.
“Randalf? Mrs. Randalf?” Aunt Mary wouldn’t mind if she had Mrs. Randalf send a couple extra invitations to their scheduled dinners, would she? Even if they were all directed to Mrs. Stewart and her guest? As the lieutenant said, they would need to take advantage of every possible moment.
“WHAT A PITY THE ASSEMBLYwas canceled next week,” Miss Whiting lamented. “Stupid business calling my uncle to London.” All the girls in her sitting room nodded gravely. Corah agreed with them for once. She had hoped to dance with Lieutenant Owens after his absence at the last one. Who knew if he’d be in attendance at the next ball? She carefully avoided the subject of his departure when in his company, and he did the same.
“And we still have Miss Bradford’s wager to settle.”
Her wager? Corah sat forward. “I thought because he did not attend, I was not obligated to fulfill it.” Never mind she wished she could.
“No, no, my dear.” Miss Whiting waved her hand. “We shall think of something.”
Corah pressed her lips together. “I really would rather not participate in another—”
“Would it be the same gentleman?” Melinda asked. “Mr. Owens?”
Corah shot her cousin a withering look. What did it matter? She didn’t want another wager.
“Of course,” Miss Whiting said in a condescending tone. “Miss Bradford has an obligation to fulfill.”
The loudmouthed, overdressed boiled potato! She wondered what Lieutenant Owens would think of that insult. She should work on her insults before sharing. “I do not wish—”
“Perhaps Corah can engage him to take her on a ride,” Melinda said innocently. “He has a lovely phaeton.”
“Grandfather hates phaetons,” Corah muttered through her teeth. The phaeton Lieutenant Owens had brought on his visits the last week was not even his. It belonged to Mrs. Stewart. And it was February. They’d be bundled up to their necks in blankets to avoid freezing. Although…that did not seem the worst thing, did it? Bundled up beside Lieutenant Owens for an hour or two while he joked and teased and perhaps gave another rare glimpse into his soul?
“Oh, come,” Miss Whiting said, rising from her chair and clapping her hands. “Miss Lee has already earned her right to arrive with us at the next assembly ball. Surely you do not wish to be left out.”
Of that, she certainly did wish to be left out. Corah sighed. “Very well. If you insist.”
