Page 3 of The Wager
“You are a terrible liar.” Ashton shifted to stand beside him and looked over the crowded room. “For certainty, you will have your pick of lovely ladies to dance with tonight.”
“Since the onset of my paying the forfeit of our wager, the attempted compromises have increased to almost unbearable measures. The worst being last week at Almack’s.”
“Miss Hopewell has become desperate. This is her fourth season and time is running out for the poor girl. She has been given the nomenclature of Miss Hopeless.” Ashton grinned. “You must admit, she was clever. Unsuccessful, but clever.”
Darcy tried to wipe his cousin’s unrepentant grin off his face with a haughty glare. It did not work, he only grinned wider, if that was possible.
“She purposefully bumped into me, hoping the lace on her dress would catch my waistcoat button. When that did not work, she practically rubbed herself against me like a cat in heat.”
“She is quite the buxom lass. You must have received some pleasure from her antics.”
“Ashton, buxom or not, the lady is a dreadful bore.”
“You do not need to speak with her to make babies. Close your eyes, and dream about Helen of Troy or some other reputed beauty. You never know, she may excel in ways that secretly delight you.”
Darcy glared at his cousin again.
"I do not want to simply visit my wife's bedchamber once or twice a week to alleviate any tension which might arise—”
Ashton outright guffawed at his oblique reference to natural desires, causing a few heads to turn in their direction.
“That is not how I envision my marriage to unfold. I also wish to enjoy her company. Engage in lively conversations and share mutual interests.”
“You want a marriage like your parents.”
“I do.”
“Did your father darkenyourmother’s door once or twice weekly?”
Ashton’s eyes sparkled with mirth.
“I will not dignify that question with an answer.”
“You know as well as I, your parents had a healthy, active marriage.”
Darcy’s ears burned with embarrassment, but he nodded in agreement. His parents had at times, behaved as newlyweds for most of their married life. It was one of the main reasons his father had been completely devastated when his wife died. It was also the reason Darcy swore he would never fall in love. He would like and respect his wife, but never – never would he allow his life to revolve solely around one woman.
ElizabethHamiltonfollowedherAunt Sarah, Lady Courtland, into the crowded ballroom. Although she had attended manyfêtesand balls with her extended family, she remained fascinated by the sheer number of candles used to illuminate the cavernous room. Temporary inattention to her surroundings caused her to bump into the back of a tall, broad-shouldered gentleman. About to apologize when he half-turned and stared her down, the words stuck in her throat for two reasons, the first being he was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. The second was because the look he bestowed upon her was so cold, that it would have made a Bedouin nomad reach for his blanket on the hottest of days.
“Must I now expect every brash young woman to throw herself at me before the dancing has even begun?” he asked his equally tall companion, disdain dripping from every syllable.
The other gentleman looked at Elizabeth and said, “You could not have asked for a prettier trap to be caught in. Shall I seek an introduction?”
The haughty man gave her a hard, sideways glance.
“She is tolerable I suppose, if one prefers ordinary garden flowers. However, she is not handsome enough to warrant an introduction.”
“I say, that is most unkind. You have no idea who this young lady is.”
“And I have no desire to learn her name or antecedents. Let us remove ourselves before she tries anything further. I have already had more than I can stand of this present company.”
Mouth slightly agape, Elizabeth watched the two men make their way across the crowded floor. That they were popular was evident, given the number of people who entreated them to stay and chat, but they continued until they disappeared through a door that led to rooms where men played cards and smoked cigars. Her aunt, who had surged forward to greet an old neighbor, completely missed the entire exchange. Determined not to let the rude man ruin her night, Elizabeth smiled when her aunt presented her to Mrs. Jennings, who was at the ball with some distant cousins of her daughter’s husband.
“My guests, the Misses Dashwood, will enjoy making your acquaintance. They are around here somewhere. Miss Marianne is anxious to see her beau and continues to promenade about the room in the faint hope he will attend.” Mrs. Jennings assessed Elizabeth’s figure with a keen eye. “You will not sit down once this evening; I am certain of it. With your delightful figure and fine eyes, men will fall all over themselves, vying for your hand.”
“I would not be too certain of that, Mrs. Jennings,” Elizabeth said without thought. “One gentleman already thinks I am not handsome enough to warrant an introduction.”
“What! Who has said such a thing?” Aunt Sarah demanded, clearly outraged someone would insult her beloved niece.
