Page 72 of A Lady's Wager
Father rose and paced away. “His title does him no credit. His predecessors were spendthrifts, and it is known that his estate is in disrepair and his finances do not bear scrutiny.”
“But none of those things are reflections onhischaracter,” Charlotte insisted. “That he is not a copy of his grandfather or father or any of the other members of his family whose behavior has colored your assumptions about him ought to be a mark in his favor.”
“Even if he proved, in time, to be the very opposite of the family who raised him, I cannot consider myself a good father if I resigned you to a life spent in a house in disrepair and an insufficient and unstable income.”
“I do have a dowry,” she reminded him.
He grew more resolved. “That is not its purpose.”
Its purpose was not to secure her happiness. Was it any wonder she hadn’t been certain her father would choose to accept a suitor who brought her happiness?
“If Lord Wesley were to obtain £1000 through means other than my dowry and set his estate to rights, would that satisfy you?”
Her father’s mouth turned a bit in pondering. “Do you suspect he is soon to be the recipient of such a sum?”
She squared her shoulders. “If I have any say in the matter, yes.”
“Where would this £1000 be coming from?”
“Believe me, Father, if I knew the answer to that, we would be having a very different conversation.” She rose, smoothing the front of her morning gown. “One thousand pounds is a significant amount of money, and by the 6thof June, he will be in possession of it. Please give me until then to prove to you that he is worthy of your consideration, that he is the good and kind and considerate gentleman I have found him to be.”
Father didn’t agree, but neither did he immediately object. Hoping that meant he was at least considering, she excused herself and left the breakfast room, only allowing herself to breathe once she reached her bedchamber.
She had until her birthday. A mere week.
Julian received a summons from the Earl of Tarrant to meet him at their club. They were members of the same one but had never interacted there in the past. The difference in their ages and Julian’s hesitation to reenter Society had more or less guaranteed that.
The earl was in a quiet corner in the library when Julian arrived. He was invited to sit with the gentleman and did so.
“Is there a reason, Lord Wesley, why my daughter is convinced that you will be the recipient of £1000 on her birthday?”
Without losing his composure in the least, Julian turned the question around. “Is there a reason the convergence of those two thingsspecificallyhas struck you so entirely?”
Lord Tarrant released a breath as he nodded slowly and ponderously. “Let me tell you a story, and we will see if we can’t answer each other’s questions that way.” He entwined his fingers and set his woven hands on his lap. “There is a wager on the books of this club, one that declares that shouldLady Charlotte Duchampsnotbe married by her twenty-first birthday, the anonymous wagerer will pay Lord Wesley a sum of £1000.”
Good heavens. Was Lord Tarrant the one who had placed the wager after all?
“This wager was recorded twenty years ago.”
Julian’s eyes pulled wide. Someone had bet against Charlotte’s matrimonial prospects while she was still an infant?
“My sister, Tottie, still went about Society at the time, though she’d had two unsuccessful Seasons and had given every indication that she did not intend to undertake a third. She was the recipient of a lot of unkindness on the matter, not the least of which came from our father. He arranged, by the end of her final Season, for her to marry a man with whom she would have been miserable. Utterly and entirely.”
Julian listened closely, unsure of the connection between past and present but hoping to understand better so he could help more, so Charlotte might not be as mistreated as it seemed her aunt Tottie had been.
“I would like to believe our father would have been kinder in his choice had he not felt desperate to see her married quickly,” Lord Tarrant said. “She was turning twenty-one soon, and that was not a milestone he felt he could … afford to reach with her still unwed.”
Afford.The pieces were suddenly falling firmly into place. “What is your sister’s Christian name, Lord Tarrant?”
“Charlotte.”
That would make herLady Charlotte Duchamps, just like her niece. The wager had been placed twenty years ago, when she would have likely been nearly twenty-one years old. And there had been a Lord Wesley at that time who would not have minded being connected to a wager that was potentially harmful to a lady.
“I was horrified when I learned of the wager,” Lord Tarrant said. “I love my sister, and she did not deserve to have her name bandied about. Upon discovering our father had placed the wager and was willing to throw away her happiness in order to win it, I was more angry than I ever remember being with him. Tottie fled London to avoid the match being forced on her, and she has never returned. She has never trusted anyone enough to do so, not even me, unfortunately.”
“Then the inconsiderate wager is not a recent one and does not involve the current Lady Charlotte or Lord Wesley?”
The earl shook his head. “It is not and does not.ThatLady Charlotte was ruined by the wager.ThatLord Wesley received his £1000 and lost it the next day on a horse race.”
