Page 53 of A Gentleman's Wager
“The one who looks like…” Charles squinted at her. “Never you mind, Nosey Nellie.” He flopped against the chair back again, chortling to himself at her vexation. “I’ll tell you this much, Wakefield’s a fool for getting his knackers in such a knot over it. I can’t see the issue of it myself. Damned idiot he is for forgoing the chance to have his horn pillowed by a decent set of dumplings.” He raised his hands, fingers spread wide as if squeezing something weighty within each palm. “It’s the pinnacle of bliss, and he’ll see little of it if he does take Louisa to wife. Nay thruppennies, that’s the problem. It’s a real consideration.” He stared right at Bella’s chest. “Not one you’re likely to face. There’s plenty who’ll offer for you.”
Bella blinked.
“I’m sorry, Charles. I think I must have misheard you. Did you really just imply that Wakefield’s prevaricating because Louisa’s assets are too small?”
He nodded with the conviction of the damned. “The ones that matter. Aye.”
Bella shook her head. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not entirely convinced you’re right.”
-35-
Bella
Following supper, the gentlemen disappeared into the stag parlour to do whatever it was that gentlemen did together without ladies around, although curiously, Charles joined her and Louisa within minutes. It was not long after that both he and Louisa separately retired, leaving Bella with only the company of her book.
Perhaps an hour later, she putThe Italianaside, having read it through a second time. Given the hour, it seemed unlikely that Lucerne and Vaughan would now make an appearance.
The sound of ribald laughter echoed up the stairwell as she crossed the landing to reach her room. Clearly the two scoundrels were still abroad and making mischief. Would it be so very wrong for her to take a peep at what they were doing? After all, it was only polite to say goodnight to one’s host before retiring.
She tiptoed down the stairs and found them in the billiard’s room. The door stood ajar so that she could see them from across the hall. Drawn by their cheer, she jealously peered into the light. Gentlemen had all the fun. A half-drained decanter of brandy stood open on the mantle. As she watched, Lucerne topped and drained his glass: from his gait, she guessed he was already merry. He was in his shirtsleeves, his coat lying discarded over the back of a gilt chair. There was an air of careless sensuality about him, in no way diminished by the yellow bruises on his lower arms and jaw from his tumble down the stairs.
Equally appealing, Vaughan stood at the table, handsomely dishevelled, like a libertine on the way to someone else’s bed. He bent to line up a shot, but his cravat got in the way, causing him to miss making a strike.
“Damn, foiled by my own Daventry Knot,” he cursed in good humour.
Lucerne responded with an affectionate pat on the back, before relieving him of the cue.
Vaughan loosened off the knot and tossed the scarf aside as Lucerne took aim. His gaze fell upon her in the doorway. “Well, well…” He held her trapped by his scrutiny as he unfastened the neck of his shirt to reveal his throat. “Are you here to try your luck?”
Encouraged by the amiable smile Lucerne bestowed upon her, Bella decided to brazen it out. Vaughan bowed formally and offered her his hand to cross the threshold into this usually male domain. She was not sure if she was truly welcome, but their presence and seemingly good spirits persuaded her to dispense with such concerns.
“Your turn, again,” Lucerne held out the cue for Vaughan to take, but the marquis shook his head.
“Miss Rushdale’s going to take it for me.”
Bella opened her mouth to protest as Lucerne thrust the cue into her hands. She’d never played billiards before, and hadn’t the faintest idea about the rules, despite Joshua’s occasional attempt to teach her. She stared blankly at the table and tried not to frown at their ribald encouragement. “I don’t know how to play.”
“No problem. It’s quite simple. I am yellow. Lucerne is white. Simply hit that ball and one or both of the others and try to pocket them.” Vaughan guided her to the edge of the table.
“I’ll make you lose.”
“Not if you’ve the same aptitude as your brother. Take the shot.”
Bella brushed her long hair back over her shoulders then leaned over the table to reach the cue ball. His instructions were confusing. Nor did it help that Lucerne positioned himself so as to be able to see straight down her dress front when she bent over. Well, she supposed, she at least had his attention again. It did not make billiards easy though. When she tried to block them out, Vaughan rested his hand upon her bottom.
“My lord,” she enunciated.
He lifted his hand in surrender, a gesture that made her nervous. The win felt too easy.
“Take the shot,” Lucerne encouraged.
Bella returned her attention to the table, drawing back her elbow as she’d been instructed. However, as the cue connected with the yellow ball, Vaughan nudged his loins against her out-thrust bottom. The contact threw off her aim and sent the ball bouncing ineffectually against the cushion. Aroused and humiliated, she turned on him with the stick.
“Perhaps we should try that again,” he offered innocently.
“I think not.”
“A pity,” he remarked in a patronising fashion. He reclaimed the cue.
