Read Online A Gentleman Never Tells by Juliana Gray - Free Book Online

far?”
    Roland, overtaken by a fit of coughing, took a moment to reply. “Well enough, I suppose,” he said at last, and coughed again into his gloved fist. “It’s only just begun, after all.” He peered up the rocky track before them, hung with dolorous gray mist. Yesterday’s heavy rain had moved on, but the air remained cold and damp, penetrating his clothing to numb his fingers and toes.
    Wallingford lifted one hand from the reins to rub his upper lip. “No doubt you had it all out of your system before we left.”
    “Yes. Yes, of course. Endless orgies and whatnot.”
    “Excellent. I should hate for you to prove the weak link in our chain. I’ve no doubt that Lady Morley will hold us strictly to our wager.” His tone was dark.
    “Wager? What wager?” Roland glanced upward at the unpromising sky and was rewarded with a fat, cold drop of rain in his eye. He wasn’t surprised: The weather fit his mood precisely. He’d gone to bed last night full of happy plans for winning Lilibet over, starting with a full-on advance of the legendary Penhallow charm at breakfast the next day. Morning and the innkeeper, however, had brought the information that the ladies had already left, just after dawn, and no,
signore
, the innkeeper did not know in which direction they’d gone.
    “Good God, Penhallow.” Wallingford let out an exasperated groan. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already. Last night at dinner, after the younger ladies retired with the boy. The wager with Lady Morley.”
    Roland’s brain sifted through the memories of the night before, until light dawned. “Oh, right-ho. Something to do with keeping to our studies.”
    The sound of Burke’s laughter barked out from the duke’s other side. “I stand corrected, Wallingford. You’re quite right. His head really is lodged between his legs at the moment.”
    “Not between his
own
legs, I suspect,” growled Wallingford.
    “See here . . .”
    “The wager, if you’ll recall,” Burke said kindly, “came about after Lady Morley told us that the women are embarked on the same sort of project as we are. A year of study for the two of you, while I work on my automobile design, away from the distractions of London.”
    “And the opposite sex,” added Wallingford.
    “Sex of any kind, really,” said Burke. “In any case, the winner’s the party that . . .”
    “I remember, I remember,” Roland said, drawing in a deep gust of raw air. The metallic scent of wet rocks washed through his head. “The winner’s the one that holds out the longest. And I was quite certain it would be the other side.”
    “Can’t imagine why,” said Burke.
    Wallingford shrugged. “But they’re women. They can’t possibly hold out. It’s a matter of strength of character. I expect Lady Somerton will have no trouble abstaining . . .”
    Roland coughed again.
    “. . . but Lady Morley is certain to give up after a week of solitude. And as for that provoking little sister of hers . . .”
    “Damned odd, you know,” said Burke, “that they’re doing the same thing we are. At the same time.”
    “Damned odd,” agreed Wallingford. “I don’t like it at all. I hope we shall win our wager in short order. In fact, I hope they’ll give up the endeavor and clear out of Italy altogether, and we shan’t have to concern ourselves with them further.”
    “Except for the advertisement,” said Roland.
    “The advertisement?”
    “The advertisement in the
Times
. The loser’s forfeit, do you remember? I recall
that
little detail quite clearly.” Roland winked at Burke.
    “Yes, of course. Our stakes.” Wallingford cast a sidelong glance of his own at Phineas Burke, who rode along with a grim expression beneath his woolen cap. “Your fault, Burke. Whatever were you thinking? ‘
I see no reason why the loser should not publish in the Times an advertisement of no less than a half sheet, acknowledging the superiority of the winning side.
’” He said