Page 59 of A Lady's Wager
“I’ll give it,” Julian said. “Steady. And … begin!”
So Duncan set his horse to run. Julian and Franklin did nothing. They watched Sir Duncan earnestly participate in a race that was not actually happening, then they slowly turned their horses around and continued their slow ambling ride through the park.
Many gentlemen would not have been able to withstand the taunting or resist the chance to prove themselves. Julian came from a family that was all but defined by horrid behavior, which had long ago scrubbed him of any unwarranted pride. Franklin came from a family of means but unexalted standing, which meant he likely never developed arrogance to begin with.
As they rode away from the spot of Sir Duncan’s challenge, Julian realized that not too far distant, riding sidesaddle on a cream-colored mare beside her father who was on a nearly matching mount, was Lady Charlotte. And she was watching Julian with that same look of a narrow-eyed evaluation he’d seen the night before.
And suddenly his bit of racing trickery began to feel like a bit of cowardice. And that bothered him. Not that he didn’t undertake the race, but that this lady might think he’d beenafraid to do so. He, who seldom concerned himself with what a lady thought of him, found he rather deeply cared what this intriguing lady, connected to him by an anonymous wager and a bit of ridiculousness, thought about the person he was.
THE HOSTS AND HOSTESSES OFSociety were in two simultaneous competitions: who could host the most exclusiveevent and who could host the largest. The flow of people in and out of the ballroom at Mr. and Mrs. Brantley’s stately London home indicated they sought to be crowned the victors in the latter contest.
“I can’t remember the last time you looked pleased to be attending a crush.” Franklin smiled at Julian. “Lady Charlotte is a good influence on you.”
“I think you mean the prospect of winning a wager is a good influence on me,” Julian said quietly.
“And is that the only reason you wore your green coat with the gold embroidery? You have told me more than once that you consider it your most fashionable.”
Julian tipped his chin, turning his head a little to assume a humorous version of the posture of one fully aware that he was remarkably handsome. “The goal is to be distracting, is it not?”
“I believe your goal was to be annoyingly vexing. So, well done.” Franklin was one of those rare and delightful people with whom a fellow could easily laugh and jest. With growing interest, Julian recalled how close to laughing Lady Charlottehad seemed to be during many moments of their previous interaction. His continued repetition of the wordlanguiscehad, at first, been meant to cause confusion, but upon seeing her amusement, he’d continued the farce, hoping to bring her a bit of enjoyment.
“Which direction ought we to turn?” Julian asked. “To the right, which will take us toward Sir Duncan or—”
“To the left,” Franklin answered without hesitation.
Yes, it was a fine thing indeed to be able to laugh so easily with someone. And Franklin’s advice proved remarkably sound. After weaving around a few clumps of people to their left, they came across Lady Charlotte herself, standing beside another young lady, seeming perfectly content with her surroundings and the evening’s gathering.
“Lady Charlotte,” Julian greeted with a bow.
She answered with a curtsy. “Lord Wesley. Are you acquainted with Miss Selby?”
“I have not had the pleasure of meeting her.”
Introductions were made amongst all of them. But before anything else could be said, Sir Duncan arrived, looking quite pleased with himself.
“How unexpected to see you here,” Sir Duncan said to Julian.
“I could not countenance missing the Brantleys’ ball,” Julian said quite casually. “Clearly many others share that opinion.” He motioned to the large gathering.
“I thought your humiliation would have kept you away.” Sir Duncan smiled a bit smugly.
“Humiliation?”
Sir Duncan looked at the ladies, then at a few others hovering about before smugly answering. “You made quite a pathetic showing for yourself in our horse race this morning.”
“Horse race?” Julian looked to Franklin, certain to make his expression one of confusion. “I do not recall participating in a horse race this morning.”
“Neither do I.” Franklin clearly understood the tactic Julian had chosen without needing to be told what it was.
Sir Duncan was undeterred. “You are correct in that it was not much of a race.” Again to the gathering, he said, “My horse is a far superior animal to either of theirs.”
“When precisely was this race meant to have occurred?” Julian shook his head in a show of being perplexed. “No matter the outcome, I suspect I would remember having engaged in a race.”
“Perhaps you were cup-shot,” Sir Duncan said sharply. “That is an indulgence the Lords Wesley are rather known for.”
Julian didn’t let his hackles rise. “So I not only was part of a race I was not aware of, but I also overindulged to the extreme in alcohol that I did not have with me? Your story is growing ever stranger, sir.”
“I rode with you this morning,” Franklin said. “I can attest that you were not the least inebriated. Indeed, I have known you for more than half my life and have never once seen you fully foxed.”
