Page 6 of A Lady's Wager
The duel! Mr. Haltwhistle had named Portland Square. She whirled on him, icy dread rushing through her. “You gave your word.” How could he lie so brazenly to her last night? Had they already fought? She scanned him from head to toe. He looked unharmed and in good humor. Too good of humor by the brightness of his face and the carefree tilt of his felt hat. She looked him over once more to be certain, but most of him was covered by the heavy wool of his greatcoat. Winter clothing wasn’t supposed to flatter anyone, but somehow his did.
She blinked. And what of Mr. Haltwhistle? Richard’s talk of the lieutenant didn’t lead her to believe him capable of missing with pistol or sword. Much as she disliked Mr. Haltwhistle as a companion, she didn’t wish him harm.
Lieutenant Owens held up a hand. “I have kept my word, Miss Bradford.”
The tension inside her eased. “You have?” Praise the heavens.
“Everything was settled without violence, rest assured.” He nodded toward Melinda. “As we have already been introduced, might you present to me your companion?”
Introduced. They hadn’t been, but she couldn’t admit to that. “This is my cousin, Melinda Lee.”
He bowed. “And will you be favoring me and the rest of Portland Square with a performance as well, Miss Lee?”
How much of her song had he heard? Curse Miss Whiting with more pimples than she had mouches to cover them with, and may they appear just in time for the next assembly.
Melinda turned several shades of green.
“You’d best get it over with before more people wake,” Corah said. A few early walkers had appeared in the streets around the square.
“Of course you are right, but I…” Her eyes enlarged and she covered her mouth with a hand. “I’m going to be sick,” she squeaked, dashing for the other side of the fountain.
“Melinda,” Corah cried as the sound of her cousin retching filled their ears. She hurried to Melinda’s side.
The poor girl shuddered, huddling by the side of the fountain. “I can’t do it! I can’t.”
“Then by all means don’t.” Corah crouched beside her, rubbing her back. “It was a stupid wager. This is not worth your health, love.” It wasn’t worth anything, in truth. She’d have dismissed the offer without another thought if Melinda hadn’t begged her to participate.
“But Miss Whiting will shun me,” Melinda wailed. “I can never show my face at assemblies again.”
How fortunate Miss Whiting was not in Society yet when Corah was eighteen. Even then, she didn’t think she’d have fallen for the allure of friends in high places. What’s more, the Whitings were hardly the wealthiest family in Bristol and only had acclaim because they owned and controlled the assembly rooms. “What a silly thing to think. Miss Whiting is not the goddess of Bristol society.”
“I might as well accept my spinsterhood now.”
Heavens above. Corah handed her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth. Why did Melinda go into these states where no one could reason with her? “Let’s get you home.”
“Do you live nearby?” The concern in Lieutenant Owens’s voice warmed Corah from within. When had he followed her around the fountain?
“No, we live in Yanley, near Long Ashton.” Not far by coach, but a long walk. “Our carriage is just down the street.”
“Allow me to assist you to the carriage.” He extended a hand toward Melinda.
Her cousin shrank back. “Oh, Lieutenant Owens! No. How humiliating for you to see this.” She hid her face behind her hands again.
“Never mind that. I’ve seen much worse.” He took both young ladies by one elbow and helped them to their feet. “The navy has a way of making it so very little upsets you. Which direction did you leave your carriage?” He released Melinda’s arm but held on to Corah’s elbow as though he’d forgotten to remove his hand.
“If I leave without singing, it will be the end of me,” Melinda said miserably, leaning against Corah’s side. The sudden weight pushed Corah firmly against Lieutenant Owens, who didn’t seem to mind holding them both upright.
“What did you do to warrant such grave punishment?” the lieutenant asked.
Nothing she wanted to admit to him. She nudged Melinda back and scooted away from Lieutenant Owens’s warmth. That musky cologne cutting through the cold air set her insides flipping in odd ways.
“It is your choice, Melinda,” she said. Her cousin’s terrified, red-rimmed eyes made her heart ache. Perhaps…
Corah pursed her lips. Miss Whiting was too far from them to be able to tell the difference. She groaned inwardly. Why did she always do these things for her family? It all came from loving them too much. “Very well. I will do it for you.”
Melinda clutched her sleeve. “But she will know it isn’t me.”
“Only if she has a spyglass. Lieutenant, will you help her to our carriage? It is just there.” Corah gestured in the opposite direction of the Whitings’ residence to where the coach waited. She hardened her expression, preparing to force herself into another mortifying spectacle.
