Page 102 of Nothing Compares to the Duke
“No, Claremont. You said you’d walk the balcony if you didn’t finish the three yards.” Somersby pointed at the glass and its meager contents spilled on the floral rug.
“A few drops, I assure you, old friend.”
“Our wager was quite clear, old friend.”
“Walk the balcony!”
Rhys didn’t recognize the male voice that called from the back of the room, and he was too bleary-eyed to focus on anyone that far away. But he did sense the gazes on him, eager expectant eyes, waiting for him to do something else daring and foolish. They came to be entertained.
“Very well. Let’s do this,” he heard himself lisp.
Every object in his periphery had gone a bit fuzzy, and his legs felt as solid as warm jelly, but a wager was a wager.
“Make way,” he told those at the edge of the dining table before jumping down.
The hard landing cleared his head a bit but it did nothing for the beer-induced queasiness that had been building since his first sip of warm swill.
He stripped off his suit jacket as he strode through the dining room. Someone in the crowd took it from his hands. He loosened his cravat and slid it off his neck too. The room was too warm, too filled with sweaty intoxicated people. He quickened his steps to reach the balcony to get a breath of fresh air.
A few guests proceeded him into the drawing room, and the brunette pushed the upstairs balcony doors open for him. Sonya. That was her name.
“Will you bid me to be careful again?” he asked in a teasing tone.
“You’re a lucky man, Your Grace. I trust your good fortune will hold this evening.”
He tried for a smile but it turned into a grimace. If he were a lucky man, he’d be in his bed with Bella’s soft curves nestled against him. God, he missed her warmth, her scent, the taste of her.
“One turn around the perimeter and the wager is fulfilled.” Somersby was as tenacious as a terrier.
Rhys cast him a glare over his shoulder, strode out into the night, and climbed onto the ledge that ran the length of the square balcony. Finding his balance was shockingly easy, as long as he didn’t look down. He wasn’t too far up. A single story. A fall would perhaps break a bone or two but little else.
As he started his walk around the edge, he lifted his arms out for balance and a wave of dizziness swept over him. He focused on steadying his breathing and stopped to solidify his balance again. The party guests had gone blessedly quiet as they crowded around the terrace doors to watch. It was as if everyone was holding their breaths, yet he sensed half of them were hoping he’d tumble over the side and give them a proper show.
He started forward again, just a few more steps and this bloody nonsense would be done.
Laughter drifted up from the house across the square and he glanced over, noticing the glowing windows and people gathered in every room beyond. Onthe second floor, couples danced across a ballroom so large it spanned several windows. Notably none of their guests were doing a foolish intoxicated walk around a story-high balcony.
His foot slipped and several ladies gasped.
“All’s well and this feat is almost accomplished.” He lifted his outstretched arms a bit higher and kept his gaze as steady as he was able.
Movement caught his notice across the street. Guests still filed into the town house’s front door. But looking at the front door meant he was looking down.
Not good. A very bad decision. A rusty laugh bubbled up inside his chest.
Had he ever made anything but bad decisions?
And then he saw her. She was everything right. Everything he wanted, and she was the one woman in London who he was certain didn’t want him.
He frowned. He was tipsy and logic was never his strong suit but his muddled mind wrestled with the riddle of why she was striding toward his town house if she didn’t want him at all.
She could do this.
Lifting her skirts, she stepped off the pavement onto the cobbled streets and assessed the Claremont front door. No servants were stationed there. The outside sconces weren’t even lit, but the door was ajar, as if in open invitation for anyone to enter.
Two steps from his door and a woman’s screamechoed down from above. Bella looked up and lost her breath.
He was standing on the balcony. Notonthe balcony, like a normal Londoner out for a bit of fresh air. He stood balanced on the balcony’s balustrade, like a circus performer on a high wire.
