Page 14 of A Gentleman's Wager
“I’m not so sure I want a wife who’s a lady.”
Bella squealed in amusement and clapped her hands together.
“That is not what I meant, minx. I merely meant I should prefer a wife who knows how to butter bread.”
-8-
Louisa
“My fingers are now stained quite purple,” Bella complained, as she sat helping Louisa to tie rags in her hair before bed. “You and Captain Wakefield certainly found a lot to talk about, Lou.”
Louisa, who was even then recounting every footstep of their stroll, smiled dreamily. “We did, though I don’t really know what we said. He is so easy to be around, Bella.” And she the luckiest of women to have stumbled upon him on her way north. “I suppose we spoke of our families, a while, and a little of his regiment.” They had recounted their meeting too and spoken of what they desired of their futures. She, a house of her own, away from her aunt. He, his sisters settled and well matched, and a family of his own. There had only ever been her and her brother, so Wakefield’s talk of many sisters bewildered and enchanted her. “He did promise that he would call again as soon as he is able, but I suppose that will be dependent on Lord Marlinscar’s plans. He must do as his host bids.”
“Likewise, you yours.”
“Oh, Bella, I am sorry. What a thoughtless simpkin I am being. I did not think how neglected you would feel. I am supposed to be here for you, not to be making doe-eyes at your neighbour’s guest.”
Bella batted the notion aside and set down the bundle of rags on the dressing table. “One of us should have fun, and he is handsome. I’m only appalled by the lack of billing and cooing. I did not have to turn my head to avoid seeing anything even once. You will promise to kiss him next time he calls, won’t you, or let him squeeze your bottom, so that I might have something to blush over.”
“Bella, I most certainly shan’t. You say the naughtiest things.” She dug an elbow into her friend’s side. “If my aunt had any notion how salacious your conversation runs, she would never let me see you again. I’m not sure she’d even let me write.”
“Then she had better never hear of my salaciousness, at least while you’re still Miss Stanley. Once you’re Mrs Wakefield, of course, then you shall have to tell me of all the intricacies of married life.”
Louisa clipped her shoulder again, while heat blazed through her cheeks. “I’m not sure it’s at all the done thing to tell of such things even then, Bella, and certainly not to one’s unmarried friends. In any case, I rather think you already know more of weddings and”—she dropped her voice to a whisper— “beddings than you ought.”
Bella, who was still poking at the rags around her fingers, caught her friend’s gaze in the mirror. “Without a doubt that is impossible. My governess—”
“Which one?”
“Miss Trenchhardy, or was it Miss Lemoncakes—”
“Bella, you never had a governess called Miss Lemoncakes.”
“Indeed, no, it was Miss Elliot. That’s the one, Jemima Elliot, did say to me that it is with books that the world will be revealed to us, and do you know, she has proved to be quite right. Everything one could ever wish to be enlightened about can be found in books. Though she was quite mistaken about the method, one has to read them, not balance them upon your head. You do not believe it wrong to read, do you Louisa?”
“No,” she said, cautiously.
“Good, for I have a book for you to read.”
“Shall I like it?”
“Hm,” Bella considered. Her lips pursed. “I think you will be much informed by it. I shall leave it under your pillow for you, but do keep it out of Joshua’s sight, won’t you?”
“Because he will be appalled to find me with it?”
“Yes, maybe,” Bella hedged. “But it is more that I stole it from him, and I don’t wish him to take it back.”
-9-
Bella
The glorious summer decayed all too quickly into autumn, bringing with it incessant rain. Bella stared glumly out of the leaded windowpanes. The sky was dark and filled with the threat of distant thunder. “Perfect!” There was no way they could venture outside. They’d be wet through before they even mounted.
She twisted in her seat, turning her back to the dismal weather. Ever since Lucerne’s visit, she’d been eager to race across the fields to Lauwine, the wind in her face and her hair whipping around her. Not to call on him, of course. That simply wasn’t the done thing, but it amused her to think of trespassing upon his estate right under his nose. Would he feel compelled to come out and address her? They hadn’t heard a single thing from him, though Captain Wakefield had called four, or was it five times now? And spent time with her and Louisa. Mostly though, he’d holed up with her brother in his study.
Why didn’t Lucerne call?
She dreamed of storming right up to him, of trapping him against a wall and kissing his perfect Cupid’s bow lips until they were bruised and sore. Then she would ravish the rest of him, covering every blessed inch in tiny love bites. Would he allow her that liberty?
