Page 20 of A Gentleman's Wager
“Doctor Garth’s over there with his simpering wife, and there’s Squire Cockroft. There’s a rumour he asked for you.” She eyed Bella expectantly, but when she didn’t respond, turned to wave insincerely at someone in the crowd.
“Fetch me a drink, Miranda. And find out who else is here.” She waited until Miranda left, then linked arms with Bella.
“Are you here with your father?” Bella asked.
“Heavens, no. Why would you think that? You know he calls them all varments. Officially, we’re under the watchful eye of Virginia, but she has her hands quite full with her regular retinue.” Mrs Castleton was one of Lucerne’s tenants. After her husband died fighting in the American War of Independence, she’d taken on the role of matriarch to Reeth and Grinton society. Both Bella and Millicent had served as part of her entourage until they’d outgrown her tutelage.
“No competition there,” Millicent remarked, of her current crop of young ladies. “And there’s certainly a few who’ll benefit from Virginia’s charm school.” She tugged Bella deeper into the crowd. “Let’s mingle. But not that way, Sir Godric’s over there, and he’s already drunk and lecherous. I say, who’s that?” She rapped the back of Bella’s hand with her fan. “He’s rather delightful.”
“Pennerley,” Bella reluctantly admitted, still stung by his earlier rebuff.
“As in the Marquis of? Oh, my! They say he’s an absolute rip, not so much a diamond of the first water, as the rakehellonian the other randans aspire to be.”
“He’s certainly uncouth enough for that to be true.”
“Still,” Millicent continued, without pause. “Old money is so much more attractive than new, don’t you think? I mean, one only has to look at your brother and Mr Aubury. Not that Charles isn’t a jolly sort, but… well, you know.”
Bella frowned, determined to ignore the veiled insult to her brother. The Rushdale’s were an old family. Still, Millicent was never worth rising to. Once she knew the claws were in, she didn’t retract them. “There’s not much old money around anymore. Most of the old estates are mortgaged or bankrupt.”
“Not this place though, and they say Marlinscar’s here to find himself a wife.”
“I believe it more typical for gentlemen seeking a wife to attend the London Season, not ensconce themselves in the countryside. Sounds more like he’s hiding from the society mamas.”
“Pfft, they only go up to town if they want a simpering ninny,” Millicent replied, ever ready with an answer. “But I’ve heard from Mrs Draper, who heard it from the upper maid at the parsonage that he favours a woman with a stubborn streak. Not to mention, one capable of more than simply wilting over his bed and counting cracks on the ceiling while he ravishes her. They say he almost found her, but she ran off. How is it you haven’t heard all this?”
“I haven’t made many calls recently, Louisa’s—”
“Yes, dear Miss Stanley. She’s staying with you. Where is she? I should like to say good evening.”
Bella turned her head to look around but failed to spot Louisa whom she hoped wasn’t cross with her for abandoning her earlier. She probably ought to have asked if she wanted to ride over to Lauwine too. “Hereabouts,” she hedged. Likely enough on the arm of Captain Wakefield, not that she was about to tell Millicent that; it would only inspire her to start meddling.
Only Wakefield walked past them, very much alone.
“Gosh, he’s rather smart,” Millicent preened as the captain turned his head and nodded at them. “I do like a soldier. His uniform’s rather exquisite. What do you think? More appealing than Cockroft? Bet you wouldn’t mind so much if he bent the knee and asked for you.”
“He’s penniless, and I believe already spoken for.”
“Is that so? What a shame. How is it the fine ones are always broke? Well, it’s been a delight, but I’m off to play cards now.”
Bella watched Millicent go with a mixture of relief and foreboding, and prayed the other woman wasn’t intending to flirt and divert Wakefield with her wickedy wiles. The fear of it wasn’t enough to pursue her into the salon, though. She was far more interested in finding Lucerne and hinting that he might like to enjoy a quiet moment alone with her somewhere.
She located him, not far from the dining room, trapped between the vicar and three of the five Elliott sisters. The elder Miss Elliott stood making doe-eyes at him, while the youngest surreptitiously adjusted her bodice to display more bust. Bella was a mere three feet away, when Lucerne extracted himself and snuck into the relative safety of the stag parlour.
“Damn and blast!” She slapped her palm against the doorframe. As it was entirely out of the question to enter the wholly male domain, she’d have to linger in the vicinity until he emerged again. Irritably, she sank against the wall with her arms crossed, and cursed the Elliotts to eternal spinsterhood. “Do come out, Lucerne. Whatever are you doing in there?”
She’d been greeted by no less than two score of local folks before the stag parlour door opened again. Bella extracted herself from an awkward exchange with Mr Gaukroger—wherein he’d apologised for surprising her with his earlier proposal and aimed to make amends with a dance. Whence, thereafter, she would surely come to realise what a sound proposition he was and accept him forthwith. After all, it was what any reasonable young lady would do, considering how intimate they’d become.
Of the two figures that emerged from the stag parlour, neither was Lucerne. Nor could she entirely ascertain whether he remained within. Was there a second exit? The interior was so dingy it was difficult to determine. A cloud of pipe-smoke hovered over the heads of the gentleman occupants, and even on the threshold the woodsy taste stuck in her throat making it dry and ticklish. Was it any wonder they drank so much brandy?
“Do you think you could unblock the door?”
Bella turned sharply to find Lord Pennerley eyeing her suspiciously. If he hadn’t brushed past her so rudely earlier, she’d have moved aside without a thought, but since he hadn’t managed to extend her such courtesy, why should she do so in reverse? “Perhaps my lord might recall his manners.”
“Please move aside,” he returned.
Bella lifted her foot as if to acquiesce but put it straight back down again. “Perhaps you might do something for me? Might you let Lord Marlinscar know that I wish to speak to him?”
His lip curled. “Why the devil would I do that? Do I look like a footman?” He stalked off, leaving her fuming.
