Page 5 of The Marquess' Wicked Wager
Janine beamed, her curls bouncing along with her heels. “You think so? Well, of course, you do. You are my greatest ally. Any triumph of mine is yours also. Though I return late to the Season and find you’ve been named a Diamond of the Stillest Waters. My, my.” Janine trounced over and swirled behind Edna. She lay her chin on Edna’s shoulder. “You have been busy.”
Edna blushed. “It is not I who has been busy but the tongues of everyone else. Besides, it does not matter. I am your diamond, and that should be enough.”
“You speak true,” Janine said with a grin. “But we waste our time in these stuffy hallways when there are so many beaus about, just begging to be swooned over.”
“Beaus…” A tightness far sharper than her corset pressed in upon her ribs. “Yes, of course. It appears I need one of those sooner rather than later.”
“It is an unpleasant truth for most women, darling,” Violet said, snapping her fan shut. “But you are notmost women. You are magnificent, and the Season has all but declared you so. Even if your situation is not ideal, you can still have the pick of this season’s smiling dandies.”
“I do so agree with you, Aunt Violet,” Janine chimed in. “She has always undervalued herself. It is why I like her so much, for I have a tendency to value myself far too much. We are good counterweights, and I shall do all in my power to secure her the finest of matches. Now, let’s go leverage our values and find ourselves husbands.”
Neither woman seemed to understand the perilousness of Edna’s situation, even though Violet had been the one to make her aware that it existed at all. But how could they? Edna couldn’t even tell a rake when she met one though she would make a concerted effort to do a better job of that going forward. However, her mother and governess had always declared her a bluestocking woman of great intellect and great artistic talent. If she could learn the piano and French and how to paint the sceneries of London all before the age of twelve, surely, she could learn this, too.
One night. One ball. That’s all it needed to take. For surely, a single dance had felled many a woman before her and been the cause of countless broken hearts. She had to simply apply herself. And find a new dance card.
Edna resisted the urge to bite her cheek and smiled instead, taking Janine’s hand. “Yes, darling. Let’s.”
* * *
Albert excused himself from his uncle. Jonathan was understanding enough though the disappointment on his face was clear. He’d been hoping that Albert, with his well-earned reputation in regard to women, would help him find the courage to finally approach the object of his affection. As much as Albert wanted to help his forlorn uncle find love, after seeing the expression on his father’s face as he gazed after the girl with the chestnut curls, he knew he had to intervene. He was not about to endure another Eugenie.
He wandered through the mingling crowds until he came upon an older woman, the Baroness of Hereford, whom he knew from certain chamber parties that weren’t discussed in places like this. The bright orange feathers in her hair tickled his ear as she kissed his cheek. “Albie, my dear boy,” she cried, batting her long, mink-fur eyelashes. “I never imagined I’d catch you dead at a stuffy affair such as this.”
“Nor you, Margaret.” He smiled, but one eye was still on the young woman. She was chatting with her friends now. It took him a moment to realize one of the women she was with was none other than Violet Rees, the object of his uncle’s affections. If those two knew one another, perhaps Albert would yet be able to kill two birds with one stone. “I say, do you by chance know the name of that young lady there?” He pointed discreetly with one finger. “The one in the light blue dress?”
“Why, that’s Miss Edna Worthington, daughter of the Viscount of Bloomsday.”
“Bloomsday…” he said the word slowly. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“No, I can’t imagine you would, my dear Marquess.” She smiled coyly. “It isn’t a place worthy of much notice. But the Viscount’s young daughter has been the hit of the season.”
Albert’s stomach churned painfully. There was nothing his father enjoyed more than chasing and winning a prize that was desired by others. The young woman—Edna—laughed at something one of her companions had said, and it was as if a spotlight had alighted on her lovely, pale skin. What was that word Albert had used?Intoxicating.
“Tonight is her premiere on the social scene,” the woman continued. “I say, her father kept her locked up tight as long as he possibly could.”
“Wise man,” Albert muttered then looked up at the woman with a muted smile. “If you will excuse me.”
As Albert stepped away from her, his eyes slid reluctantly away from Edna Worthington to see a group of men excuse themselves from the ball to retire to the smoking and gambling rooms. Albert kept close to the wall, trying to conceal himself among the rabble to keep his father from realizing he was there, which was an easy enough task. The man was so self-absorbed, he frequently failed to notice his surroundings unless they were soft, curvaceous, and female.
Albert waited until the men had disappeared down the corridor then followed the sound of their footsteps and raucous laughter. The smell of cigarette smoke wafted toward him, and among the dissonance of conversation, Albert picked out his father’s voice.
“What do you say, Bloomsday? Lord knows I’ve already won everything else you have that’s worth gambling over.”
The response was mumbled, a deep voice speaking into its own chest. Albert moved closer and slipped through the door into the games room. Some ten men had found chairs around the fireplace and were entertaining themselves with word games as they smoked their pipes and cigarettes. Another few were huddled around a cribbage table. His father and another man were sitting at a cards table in a far corner under a sofa-sized portrait of a glorious Rubenesque woman smiling coyly at any man that caught her eye.
His father’s back was to the door. Albert took slow, measured steps closer. Almost two years had passed since he’d last spoken to his father. Forever would not have been long enough.
“I’m afraid the matter is not so simple, Lucius,” Bloomsday said, his thick mustache twitching. “You’re not the first man to approach me regarding my Edna tonight. Not the tenth. And her mother had very strong opinions regarding the qualities of her son-in-law, God rest her soul. I must honor them.”
“You dare put me in the same category with these young parvenus?” his father said and leaned back in his chair to set an ankle on his opposite knee. He absently cut the deck of cards in one hand like the shark he was. “Very well. If you’re not yet willing to discuss the prospect of marriage, then we’ll play for something smaller. Exclusive rights of courtship.”
Albert blanched and turned all of his attention to Bloomsday, praying that the man would spit in his father’s face. Instead, he nodded resolutely. “For what period?”
“Let us begin with a day. A single day from dawn till duskalonewith your daughter.”
“And if I win?” Bloomsday asked.
“I’ll give you back the stallion I won off you last Thursday.” The Duke laughed and slapped the deck of cards on the table. “Do we have a deal?”
