The Wallflower Wager

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The Wallflower Wager Page 22

by Dare, Tessa


  “Wrong isn’t the word,” Gabriel interjected. “Sick. Monstrous. Evil. Death is too good for you, you—”

  “Thank you,” Penny cut in. “I appreciate your support, but I’ll choose my own words today. And I’ll take my own retribution.”

  Lambert chuckled. “Retribution?”

  “I will never forgive you for ruining those years that should have been happy, or for ruining those relationships. But know this: You did not ruin me. You could never ruin me.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew a tightly rolled sheaf of papers. “I’m the one who is going to ruin you.”

  “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

  “Can’t you? This might spark your memory.” She unrolled the papers. “Perhaps you remember borrowing a large sum of money from my Aunt Caroline to pay off gambling debts? And perhaps you remember accumulating more gambling debts without repaying that loan. My aunt wasn’t the only one you bilked, either. You’ve quite a trail of unpaid debts, Mr. Lambert. They amount to tens of thousands of pounds. And as of this morning, you have only one creditor. Me.”

  Gabriel took the papers from her hands and sifted through them. “Penny, how on earth did you accomplish this?”

  “I learned from the best. And I had help.” She nodded toward the edge of the park, where a dark coach and team were just visible through the fog. “My aunt and I spent all night tracking down people who’d loaned him money. She bought up all the debts, and she sold the entire bundle of paper to me. For a shilling.”

  “You are a wonder.”

  “Is it all in order?” she asked. “Will it hold in court?”

  Gabriel nodded. “As far as I can see.”

  “Good.” She said to Lambert, “This will be easier for us both if you’ll surrender your assets willingly. If you won’t, I’ll go through Chancery and ruthlessly take from you whatever I can claim. I could burn your life to the ground. But if you agree to my terms, you’ll keep your house and a modest income.”

  “Like hell he will,” Gabriel interjected. “Leave him with nothing.”

  Penny never took her eyes from Lambert. “He needs his house and the income to keep it. Because he must agree to never leave that home again.”

  “What?”

  “Allow me to tell you what’s happened this morning, here in this park. You’ve been injured, most grievously, in this duel. As a result, you’re going home to the country to recover. Except that you won’t recover. Ever.”

  “Ever?”

  “As far as the remainder of the world is concerned, you will remain a homebound invalid for the rest of your life. You may have the bare minimum of servants—old, unpleasant, male ones. No callers.”

  “No callers?”

  “None.”

  “Not even my grandchildren?”

  “Especially not your grandchildren. If you care anything for them, you will do precisely as I say. If I find you’ve broken this agreement, I will expose not only your perversion but your insolvency. Your children and grandchildren will be tainted by association. And Mr. Duke will have my full support to do what he will with you.”

  “Insupportable,” Lambert snarled. “I won’t be subordinate to a guttersnipe.”

  “Mr. Duke is worth hundreds of you. Thousands.”

  “Only because he stole that money from decent families.”

  “I’m not talking about his fortune. I’m speaking of his worth as a man. As for decency . . . ? You have no grounds to speak on that matter.”

  He fished about for another argument. “Bradford, surely you won’t permit her to do this.”

  “My brother has no choice in the matter. Even if he offers you mercy, I will not.”

  Lambert’s chin quavered. The reality of his situation seemed to finally be sinking in. “Surely we can come to some other agreement. Think of your parents, my friendship with your father. We can find a way to settle this misunderstanding, poppet.”

  “Don’t you ever—ever—call me that again. Or I swear, I will shoot you dead myself.” Penny stared directly into his repulsive, cowardly eyes. “I’m not your ‘poppet’ any longer. I own you. And in the future, if you address me at all, it will be as Lady Penelope Duke.” A more fitting idea struck her, and a cold smile touched her lips. “Better yet, you may call me the Duchess of Ruin.”

  Aunt Caroline joined them. “Time for you to be on your way, Lambert. There’s a carriage waiting. These gentlemen will see you to it.”

  Two giants emerged from the fog to take Lambert by either arm and drag him away.

  The older woman smiled. “Now, that was satisfying. I never knew until this moment how much I wanted to have henchmen.” With a pat to Penny’s shoulder and a swish of skirts, she turned to follow.

  Only Bradford lingered. “Penny . . .” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Deuced if I know what to make of all this.”

  “There are two alternatives. You believe me, or you don’t.” She drew a steadying breath. “You should know this. I’ve decided that I can’t have anything to do with that man, ever again. If you choose to maintain a relationship with him—of any sort—I can’t have a relationship with you.”

  He searched her eyes. “You’re going to make me choose?”

  “I have to. Otherwise, I’ll never be at peace.”

  He looked into the distance and was silent for a long moment. “He’s my wife’s father.”

  “I know.” Penny forced down the emotion choking her throat. His decision was nothing she hadn’t expected. She’d always known which of them he would chose. “Safe travels, Bradford.”

  He went to join his father-in-law.

  She turned and walked in the other direction, not wanting to watch them leave. Gabriel walked alongside her.

  “Are they gone?” she asked, a few minutes later.

  He looked over his shoulder. “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  She promptly crumpled to the ground. Her knees buckled beneath her and she leaned forward, bracing her palms on the turf for strength. She watched the damp earth seep under her fingernails. She felt cold droplets of dew wetting her stockings. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. But none of it felt real. She floated above herself, an observer.

  Then Gabriel’s arms went around her, tethering her to the earth. Air flooded her lungs, then rushed out as a tearless sob. She turned and buried her face in his chest, clinging to his coat.

  He rocked her gently, murmuring words of love in her ear and stroking her hair. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “I want to go home,” she whispered. “I want to cry, and sleep for days, and possibly break things.”

  “That can be arranged. Mrs. Burns has Bathsheba Wendleby’s old china stashed in the cellar. Service for eighteen.”

  “Perfect.” She closed her eyes. “I’m also going to find a new litter of kittens, and I don’t want to hear anything about it.”

  “You won’t hear a word from me. Even if you have a hundred kittens.” His hand stilled on her back, and he added, “That was hyperbole, you understand.”

  She lifted her head. “And in a few weeks, or maybe months, I want to start planning a wedding. The biggest, grandest wedding Mayfair has ever seen. The guest list will fill the society column for weeks.”

  “I hope I’m invited.”

  She gave him a teasing pinch. “You will not be invited. You’ll be the groom. And it’s going to be the best wedding in the world.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  On the morning of the wedding, a dozen things went wrong.

  Bixby snagged and ripped her veil.

  George ate her flowers.

  Chase and Ash wouldn’t cease arguing over which of them was the “real” best man.

  And now Aunt Caroline was nowhere to be found. They couldn’t begin the ceremony without her. She’d agreed to walk Penny down the aisle.

  Penny tapped her toes beneath the hem of her gown, trying not to betray her growing concern.

  “There, I’ve

done my best.” Emma held up the hastily mended veil. “The damage shouldn’t show too terribly.”

  “You’re a miracle worker. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Emma.” Penny hugged her friend. For good measure, she hugged Alexandra and Nicola, too. “I don’t know what I’d do without any of you. My three graces.”

  “Only two graces,” Alex countered. “You know I’m not a duchess. Yet.”

  “Only one grace,” Nicola said, subtracting herself from the total. “No matter what title I carry, I could never lay any claim to grace.”

  “I daresay you are the most gracious among us, Penny.” Emma packed away her needle and thread. “Who could have guessed you’d be the last of us to make it to the altar?”

  “However, if my aunt doesn’t appear soon, I may never make it to the altar.”

  “She’s still not here?” Gabriel stood at the vestry entrance, looking as impatient as he did handsome.

  Penny took a moment to simply admire him. He cut a splendid figure in his morning suit, his broad shoulders stretching the slate-gray wool of his coat. His freshly clipped hair was a swoop of tamed black, and his clean-shaven face looked smooth as a baby’s. Despite his civilized appearance this morning, however, she knew that come evening his jaw would be scratchy with dark whiskers, his hair would be thick, untamed waves—and that elegant morning coat? By then, she would have stripped it from those broad shoulders, revealing the beast beneath.

  Everything about their wedding could go wrong, as long as this one thing went right. When they left this church, this magnificent man would be hers. All hers. That was all that mattered, really.

  “I hate to interrupt,” he said, “but there are flower girls and a ring bearer currently running footraces between the nave and back of the church.”

  “Oh, dear.” Alexandra leaped into action. “Most of those are mine.”

  Emma followed. “Not all of them, unfortunately.”

  “None are my responsibility yet,” Nicola said. “But I suppose I might need practice.”

  Once they were alone, Penny turned to Gabriel. “I can’t imagine what’s delaying Aunt Caroline. I’m worried about her.”

  “Whoever or whatever is delaying her, I’m worried for it.”

  Uneasiness knotted in her belly. “Do you think she’s changed her mind?”

  With her parents and Timothy overseas, and Bradford at a great distance in more ways than one, Aunt Caroline was her only close relation in Town. If even she didn’t appear, Penny would feel rather abandoned.

  “Your aunt has not changed her mind,” Gabriel said stoutly. “Why would she? The woman adores me.”

  Penny arched an eyebrow in doubt.

  “Very well. She doesn’t adore me, but that’s only because she isn’t the adoring sort. Don’t worry. She’ll be here.”

  “Penny?”

  She wheeled toward the familiar voice. “Bradford?”

  Penny hadn’t seen her eldest brother in a year. Not since that misty morning in St. James Park when she’d put the choice to him. He was her brother, and she loved him dearly—but as long as he maintained a relationship with his father-in-law, they couldn’t be a part of each other’s lives.

  In the months since, they’d corresponded in stilted, impersonal fashion when necessary, and naturally she’d sent him notice of the wedding. When friends asked, it wasn’t difficult to explain his absence. The excuses wrote themselves: too long a journey from Cumberland, another child on the way, and so forth.

  And now . . . here he was, without warning.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “To be fair, I wasn’t certain, either. In the end, Aunt Caroline gave me a kick in the arse.”

  Gabriel made his presence known. “If you’re here to object during the ceremony, I’ll kick you in the arse myself. And I’m a fair bit stronger than Aunt Caroline.”

  “I’m not here to object to the wedding.” He looked to Penny. “I’m hoping to be a part of it. Might I have the honor of walking you down the aisle?”

  She couldn’t speak.

  “This past year, I haven’t kept my distance out of anger or mistrust, but out of shame. I’m your older brother. I should have paid more attention. I should have . . . known somehow. I wasn’t there when you needed me, and I know I can never make amends for the past. But if you’ll allow me, I promise to be there from this day forward.”

  “You don’t have to say yes, Penny,” Gabriel said.

  “I know.”

  She took her brother’s hands in hers. The space between them couldn’t be bridged in one morning. But if he’d taken the first step—several thousand first steps, considering the distance from Cumberland—she could make the next.

  Before speaking, she paused to reflect. “Bradford, I’m glad you’re here. So very glad. But I don’t want you to walk me down the aisle this morning. I’m not yours to give away.”

  Bradford looked disappointed, but he took it well. “I understand. I’ll fetch Aunt Caroline, then? She’s just outside.”

  “I’m not Aunt Caroline’s to give away, either. Or anyone’s. I’m my own person, marrying the man of my choosing.” She reached for Gabriel’s hand and looked up at him. “Why don’t we walk down the aisle together?”

  “Rather a break with tradition,” Bradford said. “But if it’s what you want.”

  “It is.”

  “Then that’s how it should be. I’m happy for you, Penny.” Bradford kissed her on the cheek. On his way out, he leveled a finger at Gabriel. “You’re not good enough for her.”

  “Neither are you,” Gabriel returned.

  Bradford nodded. “What do you know, we’ve already found some common ground.”

  When her brother had left, Penny turned to her groom and smiled. “I suppose we should go be married.”

  “No hedgehog in your pocket?”

  She shook her head. “And no shilling in yours, I hope?”

  His reply was strangely hesitant. “No.”

  Suspicious, Penny skimmed her hands over the silk of his waistcoat and the hard planes of his chest beneath. When her fingers encountered a hard, flat object in the region of his breast pocket, she gave a cry of displeasure. “Gabriel.”

  “What?”

  “You know very well what.” She worked her gloved hand under the superfine wool of his lapel, delving into the concealed pocket.

  He shied from her touch. “Brazen woman.”

  “You promised me.”

  “And I kept my promise.”

  “Truly?” She pinched the coin between her thumb and forefinger, wiggling it free of its satin-lined hiding place. “Then how do you explain this?”

  “Spare change. Can’t imagine how it got there.”

  She tipped her head in reproach.

  He exhaled, sounding resigned. “It’s not what you think.”

  She turned her hand palm-up between them, letting the coin serve as its own accusation. “I think I know a shilling when I see one.”

  “Look again.”

  She looked down at the coin in her gloved palm, where its embossed face stood out in sharp relief against white satin. Light glinted off the surface, revealing the color to be not the expected dull silver, but a coppery hue instead.

  Oh.

  A sharp pang of surprise caught her heart. He’d been telling the truth. It wasn’t a shilling after all.

  It was a penny.

  A bright, newly minted penny. One he’d been keeping tucked in his breast pocket. Right next to his heart.

  She drew a shaky breath. “Gabriel.”

  His hands went to her shoulders—but it was his low, husky voice that reached out and drew her close. “You know the squalor I was born to. And you know I promised myself I’d never be that barefoot, starving boy again.”

  She nodded.

  “I have every luxury a man could desire. Hundreds of thousands of pounds in my accounts. I worked like hell to build a fortune, a
nd yet . . .” His thumb met her cheek with a reverent caress. “Now I’d sell my soul for a Penny.”

  She stretched up on her toes and placed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, nuzzling as they drifted apart. They stared into each other’s eyes for a time. She couldn’t have guessed whether it lasted seconds or hours, but she knew it was a sliver of always.

  He held out his hand. “I’ll take that back, thank you.”

  She surrendered the coin gladly, tucking it back into his pocket before straightening his lapels and smoothing his coat flat. “I’m going to walk down the aisle with a reddened nose and watery eyes. I hope you’re happy.”

  He replied simply, “I am.”

  Epilogue

  Several years later

  “I love you,” Penny said sweetly, as she did at least once an afternoon. “I love you.”

  “Pretty girl.”

  “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  “MRS. ROBBINS!”

  Penny sighed and offered the bird a bit of crumbled biscuit. “Oh, Delilah. I’m not giving up, you know. One of these days, we’re going to get it right.”

  Over the past few years, Delilah’s repertoire of phrases had indeed expanded, in many of the same ways that Penny’s life had grown.

  In the first year of their marriage, Delilah had learned to mimic Bixby’s barking. She’d also mastered, “No, George! No!” which amused Gabriel no end.

  By the following winter, Delilah had learned to imitate a newborn’s wail with such startling accuracy that she’d drawn both of them out of bed on many an early morning, after many a sleepless night. Gabriel found this significantly less amusing.

  A few months more, and Delilah could hum the first strains of a lullaby. She’d learned to call out “Mummy!” mere weeks after little Jacob did.

  For whatever reason, however, Penny could never coax Delilah into repeating those three little words. She’d dangled every flavor of biscuit in Nicola’s recipe book, to no avail. Surely the parrot was teasing her. She heard the phrase repeated often enough, and not only from Penny. This was a house full of love.

 
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