Page 4 of A Lady's Wager
The powder from Corah’s hair came out on the brush and the cloak she wore over her dressing gown, her hair becoming more of its true brown with each stroke. It really was a very similar color to Lieutenant Owens’s hair, wasn’t it?
“We agreed to something,” Melinda went on, “and we did not achieve it. It is an act of honor to keep our word.”
“Honor is ridiculous.” Duels. Wagers. What people wouldn’t do in the name of honor, no matter how stupid the activity.Her stomach clenched again at the thought of Lieutenant Owens dueling Mr. Haltwhistle. What if he’d only agreed not to fight him to pacify her but truly intended to carry on with it? He was a navy man, after all. Richard was always mentioning various duels between officers in his letters.
“Then you don’t intend to follow through with the punishment?” Melinda cried. “Corah, you must. Miss Whiting will shun us both if you don’t, and if she shuns us, then the rest of Bristol society will too.”
Corah worked the brush toward the top of her head. As magical as it was to see a refined figure materializing in the mirror when Jemima readied her for a ball, there was something equally marvelous about removing all the layers and becoming plain, ordinary Corah again. Not trying to impress anyone, not trying to catch a gentleman’s eye.
“I will be in London soon, so I suppose that is not my problem,” she said. The brush finally swept smoothly through her hair, and she returned it to the dressing table. She purposely did not meet Melinda’s eye in the mirror.
“You cannot be so cruel as to leave me here to suffer the disgrace alone, Corie.” Her cousin still used the childhood nickname, even after all these years. “Do you really think Grandfather will send you to London?”
Corah bit her lips as she sectioned her long tresses. The powder hadn’t entirely left her hair—keeping it clean and dry until the next washing day—but now it only muted her natural color slightly. “He hasn’t said for certain since Christmas. But he told me all of last year that if I didn’t find a man to marry before the Season, it was off to London for me. Clearly, I do not have a man. And Parliament is already in session, so Society has started its migration from country to Town.”
Melinda leaned back on her elbows, brow furrowed. “I wonder if Mama and I will go with you.”
Corah certainly hoped so, but there was the potential for Grandfather to not agree to pay for a Season for Melinda with her being only eighteen. He’d only pay for such an expense if he thought her ready for a match. “Don’t let my fears of London keep you from getting excited about the prospect.” Corah slowly plaited her hair.
“But London is where Bristol girls go and never return. That’s what you said.”
“So they do,” Corah said. “Look at my mother. And your mother. And our aunts. Spread all across the country because of whom they married.” Her hair formed into a thick rope, and she pulled it over one shoulder to finish the plait.
“Mama only returned because of Papa’s death.” The melancholy in Melinda’s voice made Corah’s eyes smart. They’d lost their fathers and come to live with Grandfather within a year of each other—Corah with her youngest brother and sister, Melinda with her mother. They’d both had to grow up too fast, but Melinda maintained an air of innocence Corah envied.
No need to worry her any further. Corah plucked up a ribbon and fastened the end of her hair. “Most of them are, or were, very content in their situations. So I suppose we should not pity them. Who is to say you and I would not also find happy situations?”
“Who was that gentleman you were stuck with at supper?” Melinda asked. “Someone said he stole you from the dance floor.”
So she hadn’t seen it. Good. Perhaps Grandfather wouldn’t catch word. Corah set herself to removing her cloak and tidying the dressing table. “Oh, he was just a lieutenant who served with Richard. He thought I seemed distressed, though he was very much mistaken.” He’d read the situation too clearly. Was it strictly Mr. Haltwhistle’s overly eager expression that had caused Lieutenant Owens to step in? He couldn’t have seen herface from behind. Unless he’d been watching since the start of the first dance.
“He was quite attentive to you, though I am sorry you were stuck with Mr. and Mrs. Johnson as your table mates.”
Corah swallowed, willing her cheeks not to turn pink. She’d almost forgotten they had shared a table with the silent old couple. Lieutenant Owens had filled her ears with far-fetched tales he’d collected from the Mediterranean, the Caribbean, and the South China Seas. When they’d exhausted those topics, he had thrown them into a discussion solely about her. In fact, they’d hardly talked about him the whole of supper.
“Why did he not ask you to dance afterward?” Melinda asked. “I know it isn’t the thing, but surely he wanted to.”
Corah closed the table’s drawer and sat back. “He said he had to leave.” Like an apparition from a dream, he’d melted into the crowd and vanished, leaving her to find Aunt Mary and Melinda.
“A handsome and mysterious lieutenant, returned from the wars at sea to win your hand.” Melinda sighed.
Corah pushed herself to her feet. “Oh, Melinda, don’t be ridiculous.” But a grin spread across her face. “We aren’t even at war.”
Her cousin giggled. “That is the only thing you disagree with. You want the lieutenant to win your hand, don’t you?” She seized a pillow and tossed it at Corah, who stumbled backward as it hit her shoulder.
“I doubt I will even see him again,” Corah said through her own laughter as Melinda hurled another pillow.
“But you can dream!”
Corah snatched up one of the pillows from the floor. Grandfather would be horrified to see them like this. “We should be getting to bed. We only have a few hours before we have to pay for the awful wagers.” She threw it at Melinda, who dodged and collapsed on the bed.
Melinda closed her eyes as the laughter subsided. “Perhaps you won’t have to go to London after all.”
Corah paused as she wound up to throw another pillow. If that was the reward, she would beg the lieutenant’s attention at all costs. If only it were that simple, to find a man she enjoyed speaking with who would live out his days in Bristol. Somehow Lieutenant Owens did not seem the type to be tied down.
DERRICK STROLLED DOWN THE LANE,casually glancing toward the green from under the brim of his cocked hat. His hostess hadn’t been awake when he left that morning, probably for the better. Mrs. Stewart, his late grandmother’s friend, would have tried to convince him to stay away. So would Miss Bradford, if she could see him now. But he wasn’t about to miss the amusement.
Not far ahead, under a little cluster of trees on the corner of the street, two figures stood in the early morning light. Their breath drifted up in puffs of white. This park in the middle of a square of townhouses was rather small and public for a duel, but he didn’t expect a man like Haltwhistle to have a good mind for such things as choosing dueling locations.
