Page 52 of Wager for a Wife

“We expected you to make some sort of appearance last night with him, and yet you were not to be found,” Anthony said.

“I told Mama I had a headache, which was true enough, and that I wished to stay home. Must a person go out into Society every night of the week?” She could feel herself getting defensive.

“Assuredly not; don’t be silly, Weezy,” Alex said. “But as a newly betrothed couple, especially when the gentleman is a virtual unknown—I shall be polite and refrain from mentioning the known facts of his predecessor—then appearing in public is essential; even I know that. We are not total fools, you know. We can tell when something is amiss.”

“What is going on, Louisa?” Anthony asked, seating himself next to her on the bench, while Alex leaned against the side of the piano. “You clearly have not been yourself the past day or two.”

She retrieved the letter from her pocket. She’d been carrying it around with her since Thursday, when Mr. Wilcox had delivered it, and had read it several times over the past two days. “William had to go back to Buckinghamshire again,” she said, handing the letter to Anthony.

He read it and passed it to Alex.

“It’s probably nothing,” Alex said, shrugging and handing the letter back to her.

“Alex is right,” Anthony agreed. “He’s the new viscount, and we already know his father left the property in shambles. Undoubtedly, there are matters he must see to that have been left languishing for too long. I shouldn’t worry, if I were you.”

“Will Barlow wasn’t a bad sort at Eton, if it’s any consolation,” Alex said. “Quiet, but a generally decent chap. Older than either Tony or me, so I didn’t know him well. I think if there’d been anything untoward about his behavior, though, it would have spread through the school like wildfire. That’s what usually happened. In fact, a good share of the boys enjoyed having a rather devilish reputation.”

“And if there had been anything untoward about his behavior, Alex would have probably been involved,” Anthony added.

“Sadly true,” Alex said, winking at her, trying to lift her spirits.

“I keep trying to think back,” Anthony continued. “But I am so much younger than he and would have been a new boy trying to hold my own with the older boys. My attention was riveted on survival back then. You know how boys’ schools can be.”

“No, actually, I don’t, as you two dolts tend to forget,” Louisa replied with impertinence, their words beginning to make her feel a bit better.

“Oh, that’s right,” Alex said, slapping a hand to his forehead as if he’d had an epiphany. “She is our little sister. How could we have forgotten, Tony?”

“If it helps, I’ve asked about Farleigh in the gentlemen’s clubs,” Anthony said. Louisa looked at him in alarm. “Discreetly,” he added. “Good heavens, Weezy, I do have some sense, you know. I found few who knew him personally. I learned a bit more about his father though—not that I feel inclined to share the details with my sister.”

“I didn’t know Lord Kerridge well enough, I am discovering,” she said. “But I know almost nothing about William, and yet I am to marry him in little more than two weeks’ time. I have tried to get him to tell me about himself but haven’t made much progress, even though it was a condition I insisted upon when I agreed to the betrothal—that he allow the banns to be read so I had time to get to know him before . . .”

“Before you were bound to him for life,” Anthony said softly.

“Yes.”

They were silent.

“Such a heavy mood,” Alex said theatrically after a few moments, strumming annoyingly at the strings inside the pianoforte and making a terrible sound. “I hope you appreciate that few brothers would do as we are presently doing, Weezy. Our very manhood would be brought into question if it got out that we were fretting and wringing our hands and consoling our little sister about her love life. It is the role of mamas and sisters and spinster aunts and giggling young ladies.” He shuddered. “Certainly not something gentlemen are expected to concern themselves with. Even the most devoted of brothers.”

Louisa smiled, and Anthony laughed.

Anthony rubbed his hand over his mouth in thought. “What if there were an honorable way to get out of the marriage, Weezy?” he asked, finally. “Would you want that? What if it were proven, for example, that Viscount Farleigh was a scoundrel? No one has seen him since he left Oxford, and a man can change significantly in a few short years.”

Louisa thought about how he’d let her rage at him at Vauxhall and had held her afterward and accepted her need to speak from her soul. She reflected on his promise to be more forthcoming, despite its being thwarted in each attempt so far. She thought he’d been sincere, but she’d yet to see any evidence of it. She remembered his kisses, passionate kisses that hinted at his otherwise unspoken feelings for her, and that she had little experience with men with which to compare them. She had enjoyed Lord Kerridge’s kisses; she would be lying if she denied it. But William’s kisses had been a revelation, a sharing of emotions that ran deeper than a mere reaction to the physical sensations. And in the letter in her pocket, he’d written, “My dear Louisa.” Was she dear to him? Had he meant it? On such short acquaintance, even though they were betrothed, he could have simply written “Louisa,” and it would have been entirely appropriate. Had he meant it, then? He was such a paradox.

“I don’t know how to answer your question,” she said to Anthony at last. Both brothers were watching her closely. “If he were proven to be a scoundrel, I would end the betrothal. I do not believe I am required to sacrifice myself if such turned out to be the case.

“The problem is I simply do not know. He claims he will be here for the banns at church tomorrow, and I must believe him until he proves the contrary. He says we will spend next week getting better acquainted. How one can get acquainted with the person one is to marry in a week’s time, I do not know, but marriages have been made on less.”

“Sadly true,” Alex acknowledged.

“Which is precisely why you are being sent to play escort to little Lady Lizzie this evening, dear brother,” Anthony said.

“Sadly true again,” Alex said.

“You like her; I know you do,” Louisa remarked.

“And that is sadly true too,” Alex said with a grin. “And I had best be off to get ready. I must look the part if I am to be glared at all evening by the Duke of Marwood.”

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