Page 135 of A Gentleman's Wager
“Mayhaps then, it was not what he did, but what he didn’t do that has you so mithered.”
Bella pulled free of her hold. Her brows crumpled with anger. “I cannot think what you could possibly mean by that?”
Once she would have backed away from such ferocity, now she let her friend’s anger wash over her rather than absorbing it. “Bella,” she asked, “Are you in love with Lord Pennerley?”
Such a scowl had never twisted such a pretty face. “What a nonsensical notion.”
But that was just it, it wasn’t nonsensical. Thinking about it, it was an entirely reasoned supposition. “You are, aren’t you?”
“No, I am not. If my heart is anyone’s it is Lucerne’s. I will be entirely too happy to become his viscountess, should he ever see fit to desire it. I just despair of ever getting him to myself so that such a thing should become possible. What should be the purpose in wedding him, if I were to still compete daily for his attention with Lord Pennerley?”
As Louisa had no answer to that dilemma, she didn’t attempt to offer one, but it occurred to her later that night, that perhaps the answer wasn’t to compete but to accept that such an arrangement might not be so very bad. Also, it might be better for her friend if she stopped lying to herself.
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Bella
It wasn’t until the following afternoon that Bella succeeded in gaining Lucerne’s undivided attention. She nuzzled into the warmth of his shoulder as they roasted chestnuts over the drawing room fire. Vaughan had confessed to a hatred of the nuts the night before and had consequently planted the idea in her head. Then, Louisa had expertly diverted Wakefield from the notion of joining them by whisking him off to the churchyard to tidy her brother’s grave.
“I’m not at all sure that we’re doing this correctly.” Lucerne handed her the charred remains of another cracked open shell. The nut inside had been reduced to blackened ash.
“It doesn’t matter,” Bella rubbed her cheek against the soft pile of his wool coat. The purpose was to spend time together, to remind him that she was here, and that she could be equally as good company as Vaughan. “I wasn’t hungry anyway. It’s only an hour since I ate breakfast.”
“Shocking. That’s rather late for you.”
Bella snorted. She now had a rather clearer idea why Lucerne rose so late. He was prone to a rather flattering affliction of a morning that demanded immediate attention, and she certainly hadn’t refused when he’d slid into her room carrying her breakfast tray and sought her aid in resolving the malady. “I’ll fit in among your set afore long.”
Lucerne thoughtfully lay down the nutcracker. “Bella,” he waited until she tilted her head to look at him. “Might you consider coming to London with me?”
Finally.
“With you?” She craned her neck to meet his gaze, to be certain of what he was asking. “I think my brother might have a deal to say about that.” He had already said much about her returning to Wyndfell. It was only Louisa’s insistence on staying at Lauwine with Wakefield until the wedding day that had caused him to drop the matter and agree to her staying on until then.
“Of course, I would discuss it with him, and there need be no issue over the expense.”
“I think he might require more than a gentleman’s agreement regarding the financials.” A wedding band for example. A knot tightened within her chest. He was being overly careful with his words, hinting at an understanding, but without going so far as actually making a proposal. A loose understanding wouldn’t fly with her brother. Nor was she sure what to make of it.
“I’m sure something might be—”
“Why are you speaking of London?” she interrupted. “You’ve not grown tired of Yorkshire already, have you?” She had thoroughly outgrown its appeal, although his presence had rather helped with that.
Lucerne’s face creased into a smile. It shone in the blue of his eyes. “Not tired,” he hedged. “It’s only that… Damn, is it soft of me to say I’m sick of the cold?”
Bella tutted at him, while snuggling closer into his shoulder. The old hall with its vast rooms and high ceilings certainly had a chill about it these days, that even constantly roaring fires couldn’t quite see off. “My lord, there is not even snow on the ground yet.”
Lucerne shivered. “All the better to leave ahead of it. I find the clime in these parts a little too exacting for my tastes, and I confess, I’ve begun to long for the bustle of the city. The entertainment, the people…”
All the things he told her he’d come to escape.
“What about your plans for Lauwine?”
He breezily brushed aside the matter. “They can go ahead without the need for me to be present for the restoration. My land steward—”
“Yes, I suppose. And Pennerley, will he be accompanying you south?”
The tick in the side of his jaw gave him away. Of course, the marquis would go wherever Lucerne decided. As a man, he could choose to do as he pleased, whereas she was beholden to others. “I suppose you have already planned it all out with him?”
“It is a possibility we have discussed, but there are no formal plans in place at this point. I wished to speak to you first, to determine if it was something you would consider.”
