Page 11 of A Private Wager
“I owe you an apology, Miss Dawes. Is that of no significance?”
“No,” she said, finally turning to look at him, her gaze hard and cold. Her anger was palpable. “You may be as sorry as you like for what has occurred, but it cannot be undone. Your pretty words about deducing it was time to take a wife and choosing to pursue me for that purpose will still be a lie. But I am no longer in a position to be choosy. My aunt and Lady Pandora, who leftonly moments before you arrived, have made my lack of options abundantly clear.”
“Very well, Miss Dawes, would you do me the estimable honor of becoming my wife?”
“Yes, Viscount Harcourt. I will become your wife,” she replied. There was no joy in her acceptance. It was clear from the flatness of her tone and the tightness of her expression that she was not at all happy about the solution to their problem.
“If you would like to read it, I have composed a letter to your father…assuring him that there was no intended impropriety on your part and that you were, unfortunately, the victim of my cousin’s envious nature.”
“There’s no need,” she said. “My father will simply be relieved to see me married. He no longer cares whom I marry or under what circumstances, so long as the deed is done.”
“Very well. I will obtain a common license, and we will be wed before the week is out,” he stated. “Assuming you are in agreement.”
She’d returned to looking out the window to the parkland beyond. “I’m certain any arrangements you make will be perfectly agreeable. If that is all, my lord, I find I am very tired and would like to rest before dinner.”
“There is one more thing, Miss Dawes.” War removed the signet ring from his pinky and approached her. “It will have to do until I can retrieve some of the more suitable family jewels from the vaults. May I?”
She held her hand out to him, and it trembled ever so slightly. War slipped the signet ring onto her finger, hating the entire situation. Not that he would be married to her, but that she so clearly had no wish to be married to him.
“Whatever happens, Miss Dawes—Lucy—and however it may have come to pass, I will make every effort to be the besthusband to you that I can and to make amends for all that has transpired to now.”
“There is much to make amends for,” she stated bitterly. “I have been made a fool of, and now every gossiping guest at this party will think me a fallen woman. I need not tell you how quickly such gossip will spread. Married or not, the scandal will linger for some time.”
“Then I shall endeavor to provide you with ample distraction from such unpleasantness.”
She said nothing to that. The silence grew until it became unbearable. Realizing that the best course of action was a strategic retreat, War offered, “I shall see you at dinner, Miss Dawes, and will arrange for our host to make a congratulatory announcement for our betrothal. Good afternoon.”
With a stiff bow, he quickly exited the room, passing Mrs. Wilson in the corridor. He’d wronged Lucy Dawes terribly, even if it had not been his intent to do so. It would take time to come back from that and an infinite amount of patience. But already he missed her wit and her innate warmth. He missed the promise of heated, drugging kisses and forbidden stolen moments. The iciness that existed between them at that moment was a terrible omen for what their future held.
CHAPTER NINE
They were married on Friday morning, the day before the house party was to end and everyone was to depart. In light of their nuptials, Mr. and Mrs. Osgoode hosted a wedding breakfast in their honor. It was a disaster. Everyone in attendance simply stared at the pair of them and whispered behind their hands.
Halfway through, Mrs. Osgoode, seated to Lucy’s right, realized that she’d made a terrible mistake in putting the pair of them on display and that it would only serve to make the gossip worse. “Oh, dear. Oh, heavens. What a muddle all this is!”
“I would call it an utter catastrophe, Evelyn,” Lady Pandora, seated just on the other side of Mrs. Osgoode, stated. “A muddle can be repaired.”
“This is your doing,” Mrs. Osgoode stated. “Every house party you attend, some scandalous match occurs. I know you had a hand in it!”
“You are the one who invited Mr. Barton Warfield. He is the instigator in all of it.”
Mrs. Osgoode harrumphed. “Well, he’s gone now, isn’t he? I’ve seen the error of my ways on that front. Though, I would like to remind you, Pansy, you were the one who instructed me to invite a plethora of eligible ineligibles! For what reason you could possibly have wanted spinsters and confirmed bachelors in attendance at a house party is simply beyond me! And I heard from Lady Montford that you made the same request of her for the house party she is hosting for you!”
“That’s a bit curious, don’t you think?”
That question, whispered close to her ear, had come from the viscount.Her husband.“Perhaps you are not the only one who likes to make wagers that impact the very lives of others,” she replied sharply—certainly more sharply than a happy bride would on her wedding day.
Lady Pandora's head whipped around, her rather alarmed gaze settling on Lucy. Just as quickly, the elderly woman covered her alarm with a polite smile and resumed small talk.
Mrs. Osgoode was having none of it, however. “Tell the truth, Pandora! What sort of scheme are you up to? You’re facilitating matches left and right for people who are, at best, distant connections. There must a be a reason.”
Lady Pandora’s polite smile never wavered, but it did not reach her eyes. “There is only the satisfaction of seeing matches well made, Evelyn. Now, do not let your suspicions ruin the day for our young couple.”
“It was a wager,” Lucy muttered under her breath. “Lady Pandora, my new husband…both have wagered in ways that will alter my life irrevocably, and I have no notion yet if it is for better or worse.”
“It will be better from here,” he vowed quietly, clearly having overheard her as she talked to herself. “I cannot change what Idid, Lucy, but I can promise you that it was out of character and is not a true representation of who I am. I only ask, for the sake of both our future happiness, that you provide an opportunity for me to show you that.”
It was a reasonable request. Under the circumstances, it was foolish to spite herself by continuing the animosity between them. But her wounded pride was still stinging. Had it all been an act? Had the kisses which had rocked her to her very core been nothing more than subterfuge? For the first time in her life, she’d been tempted by a man. She’d believed him to be different and had allowed herself to consider the possibilities before them, and it felt like such a betrayal to find out it had all been for the sake of a wager. Not because he truly desired her, but because he desired something else. It made him no better than the men who had attempted to court her solely to get their hands on her fortune. And, yet, there was a ring of truth to his words. What she knew of him indicated it was out of character.
