Page 9 of A Viscount's Bet of Seduction

“I did.”

“Good.”

She looked at him. He was studying her with interest, something which didn’t happen often. She, herself, was similarly interested in him.

“I would like to go out and sketch them while I’m here, but I daresay I’ll be too busy with the festivities.”

“Miss Wilds, you sound almost disappointed,” he said, smiling.

“I’m not much in the habit of attending four-day-long parties,” she admitted. It was leaving her feeling worn out, just thinking about it. Miss Sweet had told her what they had planned, and it sounded as though there would hardly be any sort of down time. Lucy wasn’t sure how she’d manage it.

“Then leave it to me,” he assured her. “I’ll make sure that you have an enjoyable time.”

She couldn’t help but grin. The way that he said it promised far more than just dancing and conversing. There was the promise of something extra, something only he could provide her.

The gong was rung for dinner, and Mr Sweet offered her his arm. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, allowing him to lead her into the dining room. She could feel the hard muscle of his arm, smell the masculine, spicy scent of him. It was heady and intoxicating.

***

Luckily, Silas’ father had allowed dinner on the first evening to be a seat-oneself affair, eschewing name cards in favour of something more organic. Silas happily positioned himself next to the stunning younger Miss Wilds.

Miss Wilds was enchanting. She was intelligent, with a sharp wit. He had never met anyone like her before and was already having designs upon her. He thought of showing her around the darkened hallways of Thornbridge Manor—the little alcoves that he knew well.

I’m disappointed that Dinah’s already shown her the gardens. It might have been a most amusing place to seduce the younger Miss Wilds.

“And how are you enjoying the white soup, Miss Wilds?” he asked.

“It is delicious,” she murmured wryly.

“Is there something the matter?” He discerned the note of disapproval in her tone.

“Is that all that you have to talk about?” she asked him. “The soup, the weather, the party?”

“Hardly!” He laughed. “What do you usually enjoy discussing?”

“Well, the country is at war, Mr Sweet. We’re doing battle in two separate theatres. There’s plenty to discuss on that front. I mean, wartime taxation has been quite a burden on us common folk.”

“Politics! At the dinner table,” he mused. “How positively refreshing and scandalous, Miss Wilds.” He was surprised. It was not often that one ran into a feminine firebrand. She blushed, roses coming into her cheeks. Her brown eyes sparkled. They reminded him of tiger’s eye stones—brown, with flecks of golden in them.

“Miss Wilds and I had a rousing discussion ofRobinson Crusoe,” Dinah said, cutting in. She was sitting to Silas’ right.

“Robinson Crusoe?” He was impressed. Miss Wilds was able to converse on politics and literature. Usually, it was the insipid discussions of ordinary observations that ladies wanted to discuss, as he had been attempting to do.

Miss Wilds was not a lady—she was not of the ton at all, he recalled. So, she wasn’t likely to have been pursuing those things because she was trying to garner a husband, but instead for her own amusement.

“It’s my favourite book,” Miss Wilds said. “Although Defoe’sMoll Flandersis quite rousing as well.”

“Is that so?” He hadn’t read it. “What’s it about?”

“She’s poor, and she steals whatever she feels like. She becomes very rich, but keeps losing everything. She’s incredibly intelligent, but not financially smart. She’s nearly a pirate in the way that she’s able to steal whatever she needs, whenever she feels like it.”

He guffawed.

“What, pray tell, is so amusing, Mr Sweet?” Miss Patricia Weaver was tilting her head to the side curiously. Silas knew that she had, at one time, had designs on him. Silas had been interested, though it hadn’t gone past minor flirtation. Now, though, he was absolutely wrapped within Miss Wilds’ spell.

“Moll Flanders,” Miss Wilds said. “And piracy.”

Miss Weaver looked disconcerted. “I haven’t the time to read books,” she said. “I’m always so busy visiting.”

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