Page 44 of A Gentleman's Wager
She found her wrapper and slippers and put them on, preoccupied with her thoughts. She had to talk to Frederick. There were so many things unsaid between them, and his moroseness at dinner had frightened her. He’d seemed bitter, and even resentful towards her. From the start he’d behaved like a gentleman, never demanding more of her than she was willing to give, but she knew that her desire to take things slowly was trying him hard, not to mention that ugly business with Pennerley. Every time they stole a few minutes together Frederick’s eagerness showed, and the kisses that at the start seemed to satisfy him, now only caused frustration. She had not told Bella, but the last time they’d been together he’d come in her hands, leaving a sticky cream over her fingers. She’d been too intrigued to be ashamed, but Frederick had seemed grateful and embarrassed at the same time.
The hallway was deserted; the old house groaned in the wind, but there were no voices on the landing or from the upstairs parlour. Either everyone had retired, or they were downstairs. Frederick’s room was on the other side of the house, but she could cut through the long gallery to reach it. As she crept beneath the portraits, she could almost feel their disapproval. Men with thin cold mouths, Elizabethan forked beards, and dark lifeless eyes stared at her all-knowing. They played on her doubts as she reached his door, making her pause before knocking. Suddenly, creeping to his room late at night dressed in a flimsy nightdress seemed rather unwise. She stepped away again in confusion and sat down in the window recess.
-29-
Vaughan
Vaughan laughed to himself all the way back to the house; his encounter with Miss Rushdale had improved his mood considerably. He could have had her and fulfilled that part of the wager, but he considered it of minor consequence next to keeping her from Lucerne. Thinking of whom, he was ready to face him again, confident that he’d come round to what was inevitable between them. All that was required was enough rope for Lucerne to tangle his feet in. Then it would simply be a matter of timing.
So much came down to timing.
He shook his head, still smiling. Charles would be celebrating if he’d known what had just happened in the folly. He realised he might just have wasted his best chance with Bella, but Vaughan was sure she’d be back for more. Besides, seeing her pleading, almost begging had given him a far greater thrill than he’d have got from tupping her. He did not care for the bond he’d seen growing between her and Lucerne this past week. He’d considered standing back and watching how things progressed. Perhaps Lucerne’s interest would wane once he’d had her, but based on what he knew of his friend, he didn’t think so. If his only interest had been in bedding her, he’d have fucked her in a haystack by now and moved on.
He did not consider her competition for Lucerne’s affections per se, but he had no intention of letting things reach that point either. If that meant keeping her busy, then so be it.
The key scratched against the brass lock plate as he blindly sought the hole, distracted by the slender figure he saw out of the corner of his eye. He left the key in the lock and walked towards her. Although his arousal had diffused as he’d walked back from the folly, there was still a prickle of lust clawing beneath his skin, and an uncomfortable heaviness to his loins. His erection was gone, but it wouldn’t take much to revive it. He knew what Lucerne thought about bedding the servants, but damn it, he was feeling purse-proud, and Lucerne wasn’t exactly co-operating.
It was only as he got closer that he realised his mistake.
“Miss Stanley?” What was she doing sitting in the corridor at this hour? He followed the line of her vision to Wakefield’s door. Well, that would explain it. So, she’d worked up her nerve at last? He’d better act quickly. He was buggered if he’d let her bravery cheat him out of sixty guineas.
“What are you doing creeping about outside my door?”
He watched her snap back to reality. She blinked hesitantly, then flushed poppy pink.
“Nothing. I wasn’t… I…”
Her eyes widened in alarm, bright blue even in the dim light as he leaned over her to draw a finger across her flaming cheek. He watched her bottom lip quiver. She was so easy to tease. Poor naïve Louisa. “Are you sure you weren’t waiting for someone?”
“No.”
She stood abruptly, cautiously squeezed past him then fled down the corridor. “Am I so terrible?” Vaughan called after her. He thought of giving chase but turned on his heels instead and crossed to Wakefield’s door. There was sport to be had here requiring far less physical exertion.
He entered without awaiting an invitation.
The captain looked up from his book as Vaughan clicked the door to and put his back to the wood. He was wearing a paisley dressing gown over his shirt and breeches. The pupils of his eyes shrank to pinpoints as he met Vaughan’s gaze.
“Ah, Wakefield—”
“What do you want?”
“Do forgive the intrusion, but I thought I ought to inform you that you had a visitor lurking outside your door.”
Wakefield’s hostile expression creased into a sceptical frown. Here was another person easy to tease. “Miss Stanley, in her nightshift, no less. I think she was summoning the courage to knock, unless you think she was looking for my door.”
Wakefield leapt to his feet. His forgotten book fell from his lap and hit the floor with enough of a thump to raise dust from the carpet. “What have you done to her?” he snapped, as he frantically unknotted his dressing gown.
Vaughan shrugged his shoulders and graced the captain with his most rakish smile.
“Get out of my way.”
Vaughan stood his ground, while stifling the urge to laugh in Wakefield’s face. He wondered if he could actually incite the captain to punch him. “And if I won’t?”
“Move.”
Wakefield barrelled into his side, but failed to dislodge him from his position. Vaughan righted himself and tensed. He laughed when he saw Wakefield’s jaw clench. When he lurched towards him again, Vaughan neatly sidestepped, sending the captain hurtling into the solid wood door. Wakefield slammed into the oak and reacted with a snarl that bared his teeth, then fumbled for the catch and rattled the knob unsuccessfully, only managing to turn it on the third attempt. As the door finally swung open, he bolted through it.
Precious.
