Read Online Lady Allerton's Wager by Nicola Cornick - Free Book Online
Authors: Nicola Cornick
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Historical, Adult, Love Stories, Aristocracy (Social Class), England - Social Life and Customs - 19th Century, Regency Fiction, Widows
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shivered inside her pelisse, but it was not entirely from the cold.
‘Are you offering me carte blanche , my lord?’
Marcus laughed out loud. ‘You are very frank, my lady! I was under the impression that the boot had been on the other foot! You set the terms of our wager—’
‘You lost the wager,’ Beth said swiftly, ‘and it is because you did not honour your stake that I am offering so much more!’
‘You are offering more financially, I suppose. As I said, I preferred your original—more personal—offer!’
Beth could feel herself blushing and was vexed.She knew he was deliberately provoking her and was determined to stay calm. It was difficult, however, particularly as a tiny corner of her mind was acknowledging the attractions of such a course of action. To offer herself to Marcus in return for Fairhaven Island. It was immoral. It was iniquitous. And it was definitely tempting…
She frowned.
‘The wager was a means to an end, my lord! It is not my usual mode of behaviour to offer myself as part of a bargain!’
‘I see.’ Marcus had allowed the curricle to come to a halt under the bare branches of a spreading oak tree. ‘In that case it was a remarkably dangerous wager.’
‘It was.’ Beth held his gaze. ‘However, if I had lost, I had only to refuse to honour my stake—as you did, my lord!’
‘Touché!’ Marcus laughed again. ‘I must confess myself disappointed, Lady Allerton. I was hoping that you might be persuaded—’
‘Were you? You cannot know me very well, then, my lord!’ By now there was a warning glint in Beth’s eye. ‘I have told you that I am no courtesan! I wish you take me home now, if you please!’
‘Very well!’ Marcus’s tone betrayed amused admiration. ‘I will not tease you any further, my lady. And if it is true that I do not know you well, time can at least remedy that situation!’
The thought gave Beth little comfort. In the first place, she had a strange and disturbing conviction that Marcus did in fact understand her very well, for all his teasing. As for his pledge to know her better, her instinct told her that that could be a very perilous enterprise indeed.
Chapter Three
A nother country dance came to an end and Beth applauded enthusiastically and accepted the escort of her partner back to Lady Fanshawe’s side. It was very hot in the Duchess of Calthorpe’s ballroom for there were at least two hundred guests and the event was assured of the accolade of being a crush. The Duchess had chosen white as her theme to create the impression of approaching winter, and it was ironic that the temperature resembled that of the tropics. Hundreds of white candles added to the heat in the ballroom, creating such a fire risk that footmen were stationed about the room with buckets of water.
‘Are you enjoying yourself, my love?’ Lady Fanshawe fanned herself vigorously. ‘It is such a sad crush in here, I declare there is barely a spare rout chair to be had! And all this white is quite dazzling to the eye!’
Beth giggled. As well as the white candles there were filmy white draperies that were threatening to catch fire and droopy white lilies that evidently preferred a cooler climate.
‘You are in looks tonight, my dear,’ LadyFanshawe continued. ‘That lilac muslin is very pretty and stands out well amongst the debutantes. Poor girls, I fear they will melt into the draperies!’
‘In more ways than one!’ Beth agreed, gratefully accepting a glass of lemonade from Mr Porson, who had been partnering her in the previous dance. He was a worthy young man and he showed signs of lingering at her side, which Beth did not particularly mind. At least she felt safe with him.
‘Mr Porson, do you think—?’ she began, only to raise her eyebrows in surprise as the young man shot away with barely a word of farewell. Kit Mostyn came up and took the vacated rout chair at his cousin’s side.
‘Good gracious, Kit!’ Beth said crossly. ‘What sort of
‘Are you offering me carte blanche , my lord?’
Marcus laughed out loud. ‘You are very frank, my lady! I was under the impression that the boot had been on the other foot! You set the terms of our wager—’
‘You lost the wager,’ Beth said swiftly, ‘and it is because you did not honour your stake that I am offering so much more!’
‘You are offering more financially, I suppose. As I said, I preferred your original—more personal—offer!’
Beth could feel herself blushing and was vexed.She knew he was deliberately provoking her and was determined to stay calm. It was difficult, however, particularly as a tiny corner of her mind was acknowledging the attractions of such a course of action. To offer herself to Marcus in return for Fairhaven Island. It was immoral. It was iniquitous. And it was definitely tempting…
She frowned.
‘The wager was a means to an end, my lord! It is not my usual mode of behaviour to offer myself as part of a bargain!’
‘I see.’ Marcus had allowed the curricle to come to a halt under the bare branches of a spreading oak tree. ‘In that case it was a remarkably dangerous wager.’
‘It was.’ Beth held his gaze. ‘However, if I had lost, I had only to refuse to honour my stake—as you did, my lord!’
‘Touché!’ Marcus laughed again. ‘I must confess myself disappointed, Lady Allerton. I was hoping that you might be persuaded—’
‘Were you? You cannot know me very well, then, my lord!’ By now there was a warning glint in Beth’s eye. ‘I have told you that I am no courtesan! I wish you take me home now, if you please!’
‘Very well!’ Marcus’s tone betrayed amused admiration. ‘I will not tease you any further, my lady. And if it is true that I do not know you well, time can at least remedy that situation!’
The thought gave Beth little comfort. In the first place, she had a strange and disturbing conviction that Marcus did in fact understand her very well, for all his teasing. As for his pledge to know her better, her instinct told her that that could be a very perilous enterprise indeed.
Chapter Three
A nother country dance came to an end and Beth applauded enthusiastically and accepted the escort of her partner back to Lady Fanshawe’s side. It was very hot in the Duchess of Calthorpe’s ballroom for there were at least two hundred guests and the event was assured of the accolade of being a crush. The Duchess had chosen white as her theme to create the impression of approaching winter, and it was ironic that the temperature resembled that of the tropics. Hundreds of white candles added to the heat in the ballroom, creating such a fire risk that footmen were stationed about the room with buckets of water.
‘Are you enjoying yourself, my love?’ Lady Fanshawe fanned herself vigorously. ‘It is such a sad crush in here, I declare there is barely a spare rout chair to be had! And all this white is quite dazzling to the eye!’
Beth giggled. As well as the white candles there were filmy white draperies that were threatening to catch fire and droopy white lilies that evidently preferred a cooler climate.
‘You are in looks tonight, my dear,’ LadyFanshawe continued. ‘That lilac muslin is very pretty and stands out well amongst the debutantes. Poor girls, I fear they will melt into the draperies!’
‘In more ways than one!’ Beth agreed, gratefully accepting a glass of lemonade from Mr Porson, who had been partnering her in the previous dance. He was a worthy young man and he showed signs of lingering at her side, which Beth did not particularly mind. At least she felt safe with him.
‘Mr Porson, do you think—?’ she began, only to raise her eyebrows in surprise as the young man shot away with barely a word of farewell. Kit Mostyn came up and took the vacated rout chair at his cousin’s side.
‘Good gracious, Kit!’ Beth said crossly. ‘What sort of
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