Page 117 of A Gentleman's Wager
“Are you quite sure about that?” Lucerne closed the gap between them again and drew an enticing caress down the centre of his lover’s chest.
Vaughan swatted him away, before the touch got any lower than his navel.
“You know this all reflects badly on me as a host—”
“Then extend him a loan.”
“Don’t be such a cruel bastard.”
“Name calling ain’t going to change my mind. It’s very simple, Lucerne, either Charles settles the matter by Saturday, or he’s going to have a painful meeting with the sharp end of my sword.”
“Vaughan!”
“And if he’s lucky, I won’t blow off his balls afterward just for fun.”
Lucerne bit down on his retort. Given the girth of Vaughan’s smile it was reasonable to suppose he was jesting. Still, he heartily hoped Charles would cough up, thus negating any obligation Vaughan might feel to make good on his threat.
“If you won’t dismiss the wager, will you at least apologise to the ladies?”
“Oh, Lucerne, I am a way ahead of you. Tis already done, as best as it will ever be. I’m afraid Miss Rushdale is too enamoured of me as an enemy to ever entirely let it go, and as for Miss Stanley… I will try to think of something to endear myself to her in your eyes, for she holds no grudge over the matter.”
“Is that actually true?” His friend was an all too proficient liar.
Vaughan reached out and stroked Lucerne’s cheek. “It’s a beautiful thing to watch a woman come, Lucerne. You know that. I did not disappoint.”
-63-
Louisa
November passed apace, but Louisa found her heart did not keep tempo with it. The trees spilled the last of their leaves, mists crept ever more thickly across the hillsides, and of a morning the crisp whiff of winter grew increasingly heavy in the air. She began to walk after breakfast, winding her way down the slope of the lawn to the path through the denuded woodland, her memories of Wakefield dogging her like wraiths. She could not quite seem to let him go.
Sometimes, she engaged in bitter back and forth arguments with him. She would accuse and he defend. Sometimes the other way about. It always ended in resentful silence.
At the end of the leaf dappled path sat an old mossy stone bench. It was there that she plodded, where she would sit until some measure of clarity, or the chill would send her back to the house. Only, today, it was occupied.
It was not somewhere she had ever seen anybody else.
Pennerley sat hunched along the length of the bench, his legs drawn up, head resting on his knees, so that he appeared less a cruel prince, and more a vulnerable youth. His gaze lay upon the rushing water of the river, so he did not notice her approach until a twig snapped beneath her feet when she was almost on a level with him. In an instant, his demeanour transformed, gone was all trace of delicacy, shed like a skin, to be replaced by the mask of an indolent libertine.
Louisa sat beside him, unfooled.
“What do you want?” he snapped disagreeably.
“Nothing from you. I came outside for some air. Am I not permitted to do so? I always stop at this bench, for I like the view, and it is not entangled with any memories of him, so it is you who is the invader here. Why are you out in the cold anyway?”
He merely glared at her as if she were a grubby urchin demanding a sovereign to return his purse, but she found she could see beyond his front. He was hurting. She began to raise a hand to squeeze his shoulder, then thought better of it. “You do not seem happy today.”
He sniffed. “I don’t require comfort from you.”
Louisa tucked her hands beneath her bottom, creating an extra shield between her skin and cold stone. “Who said I intended to give it? You do realise you don’t scare me anymore?” Unafraid, she met his gaze. The violets of his eyes were licked with lavender and writ through with pain. That he could be so fragile gave her strength. “Have you fallen out with Lucerne?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Have you?”
Vaughan gave her an innocuous smile. “Not as such. We simply disagree on a few points. He thinks I’m a rogue and I think he lacks perspective.”
“You mean regarding the wager. I think you are probably both right. Could you not meet halfway?”
