Page 1 of A Private Wager
PROLOGUE
Lord Harrison Warfield, Viscount Harcourt—War, as he preferred to be called—was sipping brandy in the billiard room of a magnificent country estate. He was early, by a day or so, for the house party that he’d been invited to by Lady Pandora Osbourne. A few of the other guests had arrived early as well. The roads had been better than anticipated. It had been quite obvious to him from the guest list—a bevy of bachelors and an equal number of unmarried ladies—that the house party was being hosted as a vehicle for Lady Pandora’s favorite old trick: matchmaking. Additionally, the lady of the house had a particularly unattractive daughter who needed to find a husband. He should have known better than to accept the invitation, but she was an old family friend and had refused to take no for an answer.
“Which one has she picked out for you?”
The question had been posed by his cousin, Barton Warfield, another of the bachelors in attendance. In response, War simply shrugged. “I have no notion, nor do I care to have one. I am not in the market for a wife.”
“You couldn’t even refuse the old bird’s invitation, “ Barton pointed out. “She’ll have you married off before the end of the week.”
War rolled his eyes. His cousin was the sort of person who could turn anything into a competition, but this was one time that he had no intention of taking the bait. As Barton continued his game, War refilled his glass. It was very good brandy, after all. “I am not so easily led, Barton. Nor am I in the market for a wife.”
“Does that really matter?” Barton queried, as he sank another of the billiard balls. “Lady Pansy always gets what she wants, and right now, she wants to arrange as many matches as possible. Although, given your general lack of charm, it is unlikely she could succeed in your case.”
War frowned at that as he stared into his glass.Excellent brandy.“I am accounted to be very charming. Every lady of my acquaintance has always said so.”
“You are viscount;of coursethey would say so. What you need, cousin, is a woman who has no desire to be part of the marriage mart and for whom your title would mean nothing. Then you’d learn the truth about your charm or lack thereof,” Barton crowed.
“Why must you be so irritating?” War mused casually. “Is it a concerted effort on your part or just a natural talent?”
Barton stood up from the billiard table. “I have an idea, cousin. A wager, if you will. There is a young lady here who will be utterly unmoved by your title. If you can woo her and win her hand, then I will concede that you are truly charming.”
He didn’t want to ask, but he’d had just enough brandy that it didn’t sound like a truly terrible idea. “The stakes?”
“Craddock Hall. If you win, I will sign over Craddock Hall and all of its lands to you,” Barton offered.
War whistled at that. Craddock Hall was a glorious estate which bordered his own home. With the additional lands of Craddock Hall, he would be able to finally turn things around at Harcourt Manor and make the estate profitable. “That’s quite a bet… And if I lose?”
“Stonecrest. It isn’t entailed, after all,” Burton said.
It was the only estate in all of his holdings that was currently profitable. If he lost it, he wouldn’t be paupered, but it would certainly make life significantly less comfortable. “That’s a bit steep for what should be a friendly wager.”
Barton smiled. “Ah, I see. You’re less than confident in your abilities.”
War looked at his glass of brandy. How much had he had to drink? He couldn’t quite recall. It must have been a great deal, however, because even as he intended to refuse, the words coming out of his mouth were anything but a refusal. “Very well, Barton. I will take your wager. Name the object of my campaign.”
Barton’s smile turned into something that looked positively wicked. “Miss Lucy Dawes.”
War let out a bitter curse, one so foul that even the gentlemen in the billiard room were scandalized by it.
In her chamber,Lady Pandora Osbourne stared at the scraps of paper on the writing table before her. Each guest’s name had been scrawled on the page and then carefully torn free. As shestared at them, she began arranging them. Some were discarded in a pile. Others were spread out in a grid. She sorted again and again until she was down to only a handful of names.
A few stood out in stark relief to her: the Viscount Harcourt, Mr. Barton Warfield, Miss Emily Cartland, and Miss Lucy Dawes. Between those four names, she weighed the risks and benefits of each separately.
“Making your decisions, m’lady?”
Lady Pandora looked up to see her maid, Collins, entering the room, carrying several garments that had been freshly pressed. They were the gowns she’d requested to have readied for the following day. “Yes, Collins. I’ve whittled it down to only a few options. What do you know of Miss Emily Cartland?”
“Oh, she’s terribly in love with a young man in London, my lady,” the maid said. “I heard her maid talking about in the kitchens! Apparently she weeps and wails over him constantly and can’t bear the fact that her father has insisted they wait until she’s completed her first season before accepting any offers.”
With a sigh, Lady Pandora took the scrap of paper with Miss Cartland’s name scrawled on it and placed it in the pile with the others to be discarded. She had a week. It was possible to make a couple fall in love in that time, but it was not possible, however, to make someone fall out of love and then back into it with another. That left only Miss Dawes, and she was a stubborn one.
“Mr. Warfield or the viscount?” Even as she asked the question, Lady Pandora was already reaching Mr. Warfield’s name and tossing it on the pile with the others. “Never mind, Collins. When there’s a choice between a mister and a viscount, it is always the viscount.”
The maid chuckled mildly. “So it is, my lady. So it is!”
With her prospects laid out before her, Lord Harrison Warfield, Viscount Harcourt and Miss Lucy Dawes, she contemplated her next step.
“Collins, find out everything you can about Miss Dawes and the viscount. I need to know what each is after. Miss Dawes in particular. I think she could be difficult.”
