Page 3 of War of the Wedding Wagers
But what was the loss of her Persephone compared to the loss of Eugenia’s heart to Thornton thirty years before? And if she could attach certain provisos to this wager, then this could be her most enjoyable season in thirty years.
That’s if he even remembered what he’d wagered, she thought, her enthusiasm tempered as reality hit. Lord Thornton was, if not in his cups, then mildly inebriated. And he was an inveterate flirt—if that term could be applied to a man. The ladies loved him. He’d forget Eugenia and the wager the moment he agreed to the terms. Such a wager was nothing to him, just as Eugenia was nothing to him.
“Good lord, you inherited the Persephone? But of course. You were your father’s only child. I never forgot that painting.” The enthusiasm in his voice was palpable. “Why, I nearly offered for you just to get my hands on it.” His eyes twinkled before he went on. “Why would you wager such an exquisite painting when you know you are bound to lose?”
Eugenia followed the look he directed towards Sir Frederick who was in a corner of the ballroom looking thunderous as he confronted the petite blonde damsel he’d just shepherded through the throng and who was bowing her head as he spoke to her. Ah yes, now she recalled who she was. Not a marital contender, but Sir Frederick’s little sister, Caroline, freshly launched this season.
“Why would I wager the Persephone?” Stuck for an answer, Eugenia considered statuesque, raven-haired Miss Fairchild still seated quietly in a corner. The daughter of an old friend of hers whom she’d not seen in many years, Miss Fairchild had made her debut six years ago and had become betrothed in her first season just before her intended had gone to France to fight.
But the young man had died at Waterloo. Since then, Miss Fairchild had cut a figure of ladylike restraint and reserve, in contrast to her irrepressible brother, Edward.
“Why would I wager my Persephone?” repeated Eugenia. “Why, because I do not believe I will fail. It may not appear likely that Miss Fairchild and Sir Frederick would willingly make a match, but I intend to surprise you.”
“So, as I intend to wrest from you the Persephone, there needs only for you agree to my terms—”
“Eugenia, think of your reputation! You cannot make wagers in public like this!” Lady Pendleton interjected, breaking her silence. “My dear, I have never had to speak like this to you in thirty years, but now I feel I have no choice. You do not know what you’re saying!”
Eugenia considered her a moment. She’d always listened to Lady Pendleton. Taken her cue from her. Lady Pendleton had status that Eugenia would never have as a spinster, no matter that she’d inherited a fortune.
But suddenly Lady Pendleton looked like what she probably always had been: a killjoy. Or someone who couldn’t bear to see Eugenia enjoy the attention of a man as handsome as Lord Thornton.
So, ignoring her friend, Eugenia asked, “You were about to propose the terms of your wager, Lord Thornton?”
His eyebrows rose a little before he smiled. “I have heard of Sir Frederick’s proclivities. The gentleman is recently returned from the Continent where he was embroiled in quite a scandal with the Portuguese Consul’s wife. Now I see that he is most discomposed by that little blonde chit who will no doubt be scolded by one of your arbiters of respectability for following him about like a little lamb. He will not wed Miss Amelia this year or any other, and I look forward to claiming myPersephone. In fact, so confident am I that I will soon be its proud owner that I boldly inviteyouto suggest the terms.”
Eugenia was rendered speechless. He was asking what she wanted from him. How could she answer that without giving herself away?
“Come, Eugenia, there must be something that I am able to offer to match your beautiful painting. A ruby necklace? A diamond bracelet? I can afford both but I’m confident I will not have to deliver. What is your desire?”
Eugenia already had a ruby necklace and a diamond bracelet. Funds had never been in short supply.
But excitement had.
And suddenly, as Eugenia gazed about the ballroom illuminated by thousands of beeswax candles, and a dance floor filled with lovely young ladies in pale, diaphanous gowns with bright shining faces, dancing with handsome young men, she wanted to remember what it felt like to have a heart full of hope.
And if not hope, just a few moments of thrilling ecstasy to remember for the rest of her life.
“What is my heart’s desire, Thornton?” she repeated as her mind spun with possibilities. Then she smiled. “If I succeed in uniting Sir Frederick with Miss Fairchild, and their marriage is agreed upon by the end of the season, why, I would like you to organize a hot-air balloon ride and to accompany me in it over the capital. You are a viscount and used to looking down on a good portion of society. But I am a spinster who spends much of her life in the country or, when in the capital, as the overlooked chaperone, relegated to a corner keeping watch over her charges. For once, I, too, would like to look down on all of society.” She felt her mouth stretch as she added, “And I shouldverymuch enjoy your company as I crow over my success in doing what you believe I can not.”
Now it was Lady Pendleton’s turn to enter into the fun, though Eugenia suspected her motives were not to secure Eugenia’s success when she said, “Why, I have just had the most marvelously diverting idea! I shall host a gathering at Pendleton Castle and invite Sir Frederick and Miss Fairchild and all the debutantes I can think of so that at the end of a week, we shall determine, in good faith, the winner of this wager.”
She smiled at Eugenia, an undertone of malice present as she said, “Let us see how wise you were in making such a thrilling, outrageous proposal, my dear.”
Eugenia inclined her head, taking a sip of her orgeat while reflecting that she’d never noticed how much Lady Pendleton’s eye teeth resembled those of a young wolf.
Chapter Two
Amelia hadn’t wantedto come to Lady Nosegay’s ball tonight. Reading a book quietly in the window embrasure of the townhouse her mother had leased for the season was her idea of an entertaining evening out; not music and dancing.
However, as her younger brother Edward had declared he wished to find himself a wife, their mama had insisted he needed a chaperone as much as any delicately reared debutante.
And a chaperone for Edward meant Amelia.
With a sigh, Amelia ignored the smile of a passing gentleman. She was not quite at the age where she could refuse to dance when it was requested, but she was certainly not going to encourage familiarity.
So far, her stony face had been sufficiently discouraging.
Just six more weeks, she reminded herself, pretending to study the weave of the heavy brocade curtains behind which she was trying to remain unobtrusive.
