Page 4 of War of the Wedding Wagers
Six more weeks to endure all this…
She struggled to find the word to describe what it was she disliked so much and settled upon “gaiety”. Gaiety and hedonism. How could people pursue pleasure when there were so many more admirable pursuits?
Like acquiring knowledge.
She sighed again and reminded herself that in six weeks, she could pursue all the knowledge she desired.
Yes, the moment Amelia turned twenty-five, she would come into the small inheritance that had been set aside for her.
Finally, she could withdraw from the marriage mart and retire to the country where her inheritance would enable her to live modestly, no longer subject to the ridiculous hopes of her deluded mama who believed that if Amelia could lose her heart once, she could lose it again.
Nor, as an independent spinster, would she be subject to the dictates of her foolish brother who had come into his majority at twenty-one and thus, as the man of the family, made the decisions that affected Amelia and their mama.
Not that Edward was unkind and dictatorial. On the contrary, he was as soft as butter, which was why he needed careful managing.
Amelia turned her head quickly to avoid the gaze of that reprobate Sir Frederick, whose reckless antics on the Continent where he’d disappeared five years before had set tongues wagging. Oh, she knew him well from her first season out and no greater contrast was there between pleasure-loving Sir Frederick and Amelia’s brave and noble Thomas. Thomas had answered the call to protect his country and paid the ultimate price.
But what had Sir Frederick done other than carouse and take his pleasures as he chose?
Amelia leaned back in her chair and stared at the gilt work on the ceiling. She’d grow maudlin if she thought of Thomas, so long in the ground.
But her darling brother Edward had his future ahead of him and Amelia was pleased he was suddenly so eager to settle down to comfortable domesticity. Nevertheless, his good nature made him susceptible to the influence of others. He really needed a practical wife to counter his sentimental heart, which was why their mama had insisted Amelia keep a sisterly eye on him.
It had not been easy for Amelia to persuade Edward that she had no wish to marry and that no man could live up to the heroism of her faithful, honorable, and beloved Thomas.
But when Edward finally understood that spinsterhood and a quiet country life would make Amelia happy, her brother had shown the extent of his tender-heartedness.
Not only had he agreed to no longer pressure Amelia to find a husband, he’d even vowed that, as he wished so greatly for his sister’s happiness, he would do whatever necessary to facilitate her desires.
“If my sister wants to knit socks for one-legged returned soldiers, rather than gad about London ballrooms, she should be allowed to do it,” he’d loyally declared only hours before as they’d settled themselves in the carriage that was to take them to Lady Nosegay’s ball tonight.
Edward might not be the brightest star in the firmament, but he was loyal, and Amelia loved him for it.
*
So, having decidedthat Edward seemed disinterested in any of the pretty debutantes here tonight, Amelia felt she could relax; especially when she saw him advancing towards her from the card room, a very pleased grin upon his face.
“I take it luck was on your side.” Amelia matched his smile, for she liked to see him enjoy himself. When he found the right young lady, he’d make a doting husband, and Amelia would enjoy playing aunt to the nieces and nephews that, she hoped, would follow.
“Chance played right into my lap, sister dear.” He puffed out his chest.
“I am pleased! How much did you win?”
“Patience, Amelia, my mostimpatient one. My winnings will be delivered in a few short weeks.” He plucked a glass from the tray of a passing footman and handed it to his sister.
“You made a wager?”
“No need to sound so suspicious. I only make wagers when it’s a sure thing.”
“No wager is a sure thing, Edward.” Amelia was needled by the faintest alarm. Edward looked a little too cocksure and a little too in his cups. “You haven’t wagered what you can’t afford to lose, have you?” Edward had little in the way of capital. Though Amelia had argued that the townhouse they’d leased for the season was larger and in a more fashionable area than they could afford, Edward and their mama maintained it was necessary to keep up appearances if he was to find the sufficiently dowered young lady with whom he wished to fall in love.
Amelia’s arguments had fallen on deaf ears. Edward controlled the family finances.
“We won’t be rolling up the carpets, if that’s what you mean, Amelia.” Edward seemed unperturbed by her concern. “And I disagree with your observation. A wager is a sure thing when, for example—” He touched the side of his nose and winked. “—a fellow overhears Sir Frederick speak of marriage to a golden-haired nymph.”
Edward had made a wager onthis? Amelia’s alarm ratcheted up to monumental proportions. “Speak plainly, Edward!” she snapped. “What, exactly, are the terms of your wager?Whathave you wagered?”
Edward took a sip of his champagne, and his happy, inebriated smile broadened. Amelia followed his gaze, which narrowed in on the far corner where Sir Frederick continued in close conversation with his fair companion.
