A Scandalous Wager Read online

‘There is no game.’

  Ignoring Lisbeth’s request, Lady Fortesque pointed at Bellamy calling him over with a bend of her finger. Lisbeth looked over her shoulder to see Bellamy making a who-me? gesture to her grandmother’s imperious finger pointing.

  Lisbeth wondered briefly if Bellamy would try to charm the woman he referred to as the battle-axe or simply act the idiot. He took is time sauntering over, like he had all the time in the world. He oozed confidence, nonchalance written across his handsome face. Her grandmother huffed behind her and Lisbeth could not help but let the corners of her mouth lift a little.

  ‘And this is Bellamy, I suppose?’ her grandmother asked of Lisbeth but looked at Bellamy.

  ‘He is.’

  ‘I am.’ He bowed. ‘Your servant, Lady Fortesque.’

  ‘Have you taken my granddaughter as your mistress?’

  Lisbeth held up her hand to stop Bellamy from answering. ‘Lord Bellamy has kindly offered to be my escort for the season. That is all,’ Lisbeth explained.

  Oliver stood beside Lisbeth and watched the two women stare at each other like commanders of opposing armies. It was like a military standoff where neither side wanted to concede defeat by giving even an inch of territory. A battle of the fiery stares. He would have enjoyed it more but for Lisbeth’s comment.

  That is all?

  Was he nothing but a means to an end to her?

  To be fair, she had never given him any indication other than he was an annoyance at best. So, why did her comment burn? He was confused by his feelings. This may be due to how much he had wanted to kiss her only minutes before when she had looked more miserable than a child told there was no more pudding left. He could have sworn that she had wanted to kiss him too.

  His protective instincts had come to the fore when he had seen how she was about to collapse. He didn’t know why but he wanted to protect her from the wagging tongues of the guests.

  ‘Bah!’ her grandmother said, dismissing her explanation of their relationship. ‘It is not what I have been told. You do realise that he is winning wagers off you. That his intentions are for the purpose of gaining money from your reputation?’ She said this to Lisbeth but focused on him.

  Ah, now we come to the crux of the matter, he thought.

  ‘I am aware of the wagers,’ Lisbeth replied her voice flat and composed.

  He was glad this was a private meeting otherwise this information would be even now making its way around the room.

  ‘Oh, you are, are you? Well, sounds like someone is trying to make a pretty penny out of the ton and I’m guessing it isn’t you, young lady. So, while Bellamy here lines his pockets with the King’s coins you gain an even worse reputation.’ Lady Fortesque threw a disgusted look at Oliver.

  Well, that was certainly a direct shot.

  ‘I am also called the Black Raven by those same people. I have ceased to care one whit what they think. Lord Bellamy is —’

  ‘Annoying and irritating in the extreme? A wastrel and a fool?’ Oliver supplied.

  She flung him an angry look. ‘I was going to say gentleman.’

  ‘Oh.’ Oliver wanted to laugh at that one. He was sure she wanted to say at least one of his suggestions.

  ‘You two may find this all a great lark to pull the wool over the eyes of the ton, my dear, but believe me it will not only be you that ends up hurt by this prank. I would have thought you would know better by now that what you do reflects on all of us, especially your sister.’ She peered at the both of them over her patrician nose as they stood together. She humphed. ‘You should marry, you look well together.’

  Lisbeth and Bellamy shared a confused look.

  ‘Yes, a June wedding, that will put things to rights.’

  ‘I don’t think…’ Lisbeth began.

  ‘Why are you shaking your head, Bellamy? Are you saying she is good enough to bed but not to wed?’

  ‘I won’t be marrying Bellamy. Or anyone for that matter,’ Lisbeth answered.

  Lady Fortesque did not seem surprised by her denial and pinned her gaze on Bellamy. ‘Leave us now. I have things I need to discuss with my granddaughter.’

  ‘With all due respect, Lady Fortesque, I will leave only on Lady Blackhurst’s request.’

  Lisbeth turned to him, took his hand. ‘I’m all right, Bellamy. I will join you shortly.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ he asked eyeing Lady Fortesque.

  ‘Yes.’

  He gave her hand a squeeze, bowed to the two ladies, and left to take up his post at the side of the room.

  ***

  ‘He seems very protective of you. It would do him good to be settled and seeing as he is the only man you have let come within a foot of you in years, I thought… Oh well, it matters not now.’

  ‘No, it matters not. You gave up any right to counsel me. You have no say in who I do, or do not, marry.’

  ‘You are right. What you do is on your head, which is why we must remain distanced from you. Do you have no inkling of what you put us through?’

  Lisbeth held her tongue. Every fibre of her being wanted to scream at the woman before her. She knew that the shame of her accusation had caused a scandal. How could it not? But, she was innocent. A court of law had decreed it for all. Where had her family been then? Their lack of support at that time only fuelled the flames of scandal that she had somehow gotten away with murder.

  ‘And now you want to pull poor Bellamy through your muck as well? Not that he seems to care. I may not have met him before tonight, but I know of him, of his family. He deserves better but he has no one to direct him, does he?’

  ‘What do you mean? Are you talking of his brother?’

  ‘I was talking about what happened to his parents. He lost his mother, father and younger sister in a shipwreck over a decade ago. The poor boys, and that’s all they were, had nothing to bury either. Such a pity. Lady Bellamy had been such a beauty too.’

  Lisbeth instantly searched for a glimpse of Bellamy. ‘I only knew of his brother’s accident a few weeks ago. I had just assumed… He is all alone?’ Why did she feel the need to go to him, wrap her arms around him and comfort him? Was it because she knew what it was to be alone too?

  ‘There is an aunt, Lady Whitely. Although, she may have passed too.’

  ‘No family at all,’ Lisbeth said in a whisper

  ‘This seems to have surprised you. Did he not tell you?’

  No, he had not told her and she had not asked. She had not asked him anything personal. To do so would be to invite intimate conversation. She did not want such converse with him. It was hard enough to keep him at a distance. She was better off not knowing about him, wasn’t she? Oh, but it was too late now.

  She knew. She felt. For him.

  ‘I know you resent me for the decisions I made. I’ll tell you, I don’t regret it. I did what I had to do for the greater good of the family. If you had been in my shoes you would have done the same.’

  Was this her grandmother’s attempt at a backhanded apology? Her face gave nothing away. Cold old fish.

  ‘I am nothing like you,’ Lisbeth said with conviction. ‘I would never have abandoned one of my own. I would have ridden out the storm, held the faith and protected what was mine.’

  Her grandmother studied her for a moment. She nodded. ‘And you have done so, admirably. I wasn’t sure you had the gumption but it seems you are stronger than even you yourself thought.’

  ‘A compliment? It is ill timed. None of it matters—for I have lost everything!’ Lisbeth desperately wanted to leave.

  ‘We have lost too,’ her grandmother said in a whisper.

  ‘Do not speak to me of loss.’

  ‘If society accepts you after this farce you are playing at, then there may be hope of you returning to the family.’

  Family. This woman may be her blood but she was no longer her family. ‘I only want to know of my sister.’

  ‘Marie is well—married Lord Fenwick last June.’

  ‘I kno
w. I read the announcement. Is she happy?’

  Lisbeth remembered clearly the day of her sister’s wedding. It had been a bright June day, warm but with a cool breeze that sent the gowns of the female guests flapping against their legs. She had hid within her carriage across the street to watch the bride and groom emerge from St George’s Church in Hanover Square. Lisbeth should have been on the steps with the other guests, offering hugs of congratulations, and sharing in her sister’s joy, attending the wedding breakfast and toasting to the happy couple. Instead, she had spent the whole morning worrying that Lord Fenwick may not be the man he purported to be. Was he a good man? A gentle soul who would never lay a finger on Marie? Would he treat her with respect and kindness? She did not want Marie to suffer the same fate as she had.

  Tears had streamed down Lisbeth’s face and she cursed the fates that had put her in such a position. She should have been shedding tears of joy but instead it felt more like Marie was being torn from her heart a second time.

  Her grandmother frowned at her now. ‘Her husband appears to be doting towards her and really, she could not have hoped for a better match, considering.’

  ‘Considering she is related to me you mean?’ She flashed her eyes to show her anger but the woman before her did not react.

  ‘You put us all in a position where we had no choice. Don’t you see?’

  Was she pleading for her to understand? She knew it would not have been easy for them. Who would want to marry the sister of a suspected murderer?

  She looked over to where Bellamy was standing, drink in hand and gazing at the ceiling. He may have no family, but at least they had probably loved him.

  ‘Be wary, my dear. There are still those who would wish you ill.’

  ‘I am used to looking after myself,’ she replied. ‘I would hate for you to lose sleep over me. Do have a good evening.’ Tell my sister I miss her…

  She was proud as she walked away. She had not let it show how much her grandmother’s cool reserve had hurt her, ripped her heart to shreds. What had she expected this to be? A sweet family reunion? It was better this way she told herself. This way she wouldn’t be lulled into thinking the old woman still cared for her.

  ***

  Oliver studied the Countess as she excused herself from her grandmother and began the walk across the room towards him. She was looking directly at him. Odd! He felt no burning sensation anywhere in the region of his forehead. He was beginning to feel warm in another region though. He took another sip of his drink and rolled it on his tongue as he continued to hold her gaze.

  He swallowed. Lord, she was perfection! She was artless in her movements and yet the sway of her hips told an ancient story that his loins understood completely.

  He must look away.

  He couldn’t.

  He watched her watching him.

  His heart pounded violently. Her every step was grace, her breasts moved up and down slowly in her bodice like music for the eyes. Every shimmer of the emerald material as it moved around her body was like whispers of an enchantment. He was mesmerised by her. Every painful breath he held told him he was mad to think of her this way. Every beat of his heart told him he was a fool.

  She was nearly in front of him and he blinked. What an idiot he must look. He had to remember they were nothing to each other—she had made that clear enough. Just partners in an arrangement that was starting to show more holes than a match girl’s shawl.

  That is all.

  ‘Did you take your fill of half-naked statues, Bellamy?’ She took the empty wineglass out of his hand and gave it to a passing servant.

  ‘Pardon?’ All he’d heard was the word naked.

  ‘The statues, did you find them entertaining enough?’

  ‘Oh, the statues? Well, you know, seen one, seen them all,’ he said with a grin. ‘I’d like to know where all their arms went, wouldn’t you? There must be a vault somewhere in Greece full of lost limbs.’ If she only knew what he had been thinking while looking at those figures.

  Lisbeth took his arm and began leading Bellamy away from the statue of Aphrodite. ‘I am feeling I must grant you a boon…for having put up with me this evening, not to mention dealing with my grandmother.’

  ‘Really?’ Bellamy looked more than shocked and Lisbeth wanted to laugh but nothing seemed to come out.

  ‘Yes,’ she continued, pulling out his infamous list from her reticule. ‘I thought we should complete one of your wagers.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ was all he said in reply.

  She was not sure if he was happy about her suggestion or not. ‘So, which one shall we complete? This one?’ She pointed to an incomprehensible scribble about half way down the list.

  Oliver looked over her shoulder at the one she had selected then frowned. ‘No! Not that one. Choose another.’

  ‘Why? What does it say?’

  ‘Just choose another.’

  ‘Alright.’ She looked down the list and pointed to a shorter scribble.

  ‘Definitely not,’ he said.

  ‘This one?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Bellamy!’

  ‘This one,’ he said indicating one towards the top of the list.

  She sighed loudly in irritation. ‘Fine,’ she said. Relieved that he had at least selected one.

  ‘Good.’ He took her by the hand and led her towards the other side of the room. ‘What? Where are you taking me? Bellamy, I insist on knowing what you have chosen.’

  ‘It is nothing too torturous, I assure you. If you try not to trample on my toes I’ll try not to step on yours.’

  ‘Trample?’ She dug in her heels and stopped. ‘One moment please, is this by chance a waltz?’ They were not quite at the dance floor. ‘I told you —’

  ‘I know, you don’t waltz. That is why we are doing a Cotillion.’

  ‘Bellamy!’

  ‘You do remember the steps, don’t you?’ he asked as he pulled her onto the dance floor.

  ‘Of course I remember the steps, and why is it I trample and you only step? That hardly seems fair.’

  The music started and with a satisfied smile on his face he positioned her in the line and took up his place opposite. He gave a double eyebrow wiggle as they waited for their turn.

  Lisbeth rolled her eyes.

  He laughed.

  It had been some years since Lisbeth had danced and yet as soon as the couples around her began, the steps just seemed to happen on their own. Her feet moved into the turns without fail, no doubt due to her mother who had insisted she dance flawlessly before being allowed to go to London for her season.

  Bellamy was very agile and confident, light on his toes and, thankfully, skillful enough to keep his promise of not stepping on hers. At first she did not want to enjoy the dance but too soon the music and laughter around her drew her in and every time she touched hands with Bellamy her heart sped up. She enjoyed it a lot more than she had thought possible though she told herself she most certainly did not.

  ‘You dance very well,’ she said to him through a turn.

  ‘You seem surprised.’

  ‘Not really, well, maybe a little.’

  He laughed. ‘Even in the army there were social occasions which necessitated the officers to dance with various female guests. You may be surprised by other things I do well.’

  She blushed and was reminded that this was Bellamy she was talking to. They parted, clasping hands with other dancers before coming back together.

  ‘Those things do not concern me, no matter how well you do them,’ she said with a smirk.

  He laughed.

  Again they separated and came back together.

  She found herself longing for the steps that brought them together, if only for the briefest of moments. When his hand touched hers she felt a strange kind of warm tingle go right through her. She was right to keep away from waltzing with him. If he were to hold her too close, in the circle of his arms, she may go up in flames, for
her thoughts and her cheeks were warming shockingly. Surely, it was the exertion of the dance or the stuffiness of the room and nothing to do with him. Then he smiled at her and the tingles swept through her body like an inferno.

  She felt herself wanting to smile back. Why couldn’t she just let go?

  It would be so easy to let him charm her. To woo her with his sad past and his seductive quips. She felt sorry for him, she decided. It was the only plausible answer to her reactions. It was nothing more than sympathy after hearing how he had lost his parents. Any woman with a heart would feel the same, wouldn’t they?

  He winked at her with such amusement that she missed a step. Lord, was she doomed to fall for the same tricks that had hideously ruined her life only seven years ago?

  Nathaniel had been a good dancer. Smooth with his words and compliments and yet…and yet that had not been him at all. If only she could turn back time. She would play her cards differently, that would be for certain. The deceiving words of a man who promised her the sun and the moon would not play her for a fool again. How could she have forgotten the tricks men played to get what they want?

  It wasn’t like Bellamy was here by choice. She had made him come here tonight. It was quite clear to her that he found this whole thing a game which he was playing along with. At every turn he was aiming for higher stakes, just waiting for his cards to turn and take the advantage. Is that what he had been doing at the beginning of the night when she had been upset at seeing her grandmother? Had he seized the opportunity to take the trump card by playing the concerned lover?

  The pain she carried with her increased and she found herself fighting tears again. Was there no one she could trust? Lisbeth slowly turned the hurt to anger. It was the only way she knew how to cope with what was happening. She still had need of him and was not ready to let him go but she would be prepared to defend herself against him with everything she had.

  The dance ended and Bellamy offered his arm to escort her off the dance floor.

  ‘You think too much,’ he announced. ‘I swear I could see cogs moving in there.’ He made as if to look in her ear. He grinned.

  She gave him one of her burning glares in warning and he stepped back, shocked. ‘Surely it wasn’t so bad?’