Wicked Wager

by Mary Gillgannon

  “I am, of course,” Marcus retorted.

  James rose. “I wish you the best in that regard. For now, I’m going to bed. I hope the parlor settle isn’t too dashed uncomfortable.”

  “Goodnight,” Marcus responded.

  After James left, he finished his brandy and mulled things over. He had to admit James was right. There was no reason to be distressed by Penny’s behavior. She would be his wife in name only. He must not let her affect him so much. His response to finding her alone with a group of men had been ridiculous. She’d been perfectly safe.

  He couldn’t understand why she upset him the way she did. Even now, thinking of sharing a bed with her, he felt an odd disquiet. How absurd. It was merely a practical arrangement. If the bed was of reasonable size, their bodies need never touch.

  Of course, he’d have to consummate the marriage eventually. James was right. It would be dangerous to give Withersby any sort of loophole he might use to void the agreement. The thought of what Penny would look like naked flashed into his mind, and he was immediately aroused. Damn! This was no good. He’d have to stay here and order another brandy, and keep his thoughts away from Penny.

  A while later and another brandy finished, he stood and decided to face the inevitable. He left the taproom and climbed the stairs. Reaching the room, he eased open the door and moved through the parlor where James was sleeping. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to the bedchamber and went in.

  A candle burned on the washstand; he could see she was abed. He sat on the chair near the washstand and took off his boots and stockings, then stood to remove his coat and undo his cravat. Although he disliked the idea of sleeping in his shirt and trousers, he simply couldn’t imagine lying beside her all night in nothing but his smallclothes.

  Before blowing out the candle, he approached the bed, wanting to see her. The next moment he regretted the impulsive action. Penny’s silky brown hair was spread around her face, and in repose her features were almost angelic. The delicate line of her cheek and jaw, her creamy skin and plump, rosy, slightly parted lips—every detail made him long to kiss her. To nuzzle her long, elegant neck. To slide down the thin, nearly transparent, night rail she wore and mouth the plush curves of her breasts.

  With effort, he drew away, wondering why she affected him so much. Perhaps it was because he knew that he would soon have the right to touch and kiss her…and everything else. Indeed, once they were wed, he would be compelled to make love to her. As uneasy as his mind was with the thought, his body was supremely eager to do exactly that. He was hard again. Now, how was he supposed to lie beside her and go to sleep?

  He glanced around the room, seeking an alternative to that frustrating option. The straight-backed chair would be impossible, and he wasn’t about to stretch out on the uncarpeted floor. He had no choice but to climb into bed.

  Resigned, Marcus blew out the candle and again approached the bed. At least she’d fallen asleep on the far side, and he wouldn’t have to climb over her. He drew the covers back and eased himself in beside her. Staring up into darkness, he told himself he’d eventually fall asleep.

  ****

  At last! Penny shifted slightly and rubbed her nose, which had been itching ever since he entered the room. He’d taken forever to come to bed. The worst part was when he stood there looking at her. That had been agony, knowing she dare not move a muscle or he’d realize she was awake. Although she didn’t know why it mattered if he knew. It might actually be less awkward if they’d exchanged “goodnights” before going to sleep.

  Of course, she doubted if she’d sleep much at all. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even though her eyes were closed, tantalizing images of the man beside her filled her mind. At dinner, she’d admired his dusky skin glowing in the candlelight, his dark piercing eyes, and hard yet sensual mouth. And then there was the way his well-tailored clothes emphasized his long, muscular legs, broad shoulders, and trim torso.

  An involuntary shudder swept through her at the memory, and suddenly she felt him move beside her. She went very still as he pulled the blanket up over her shoulders. He wasn’t asleep yet either.

  Maybe she should forget the pretense of being asleep and speak to him. But what to say? If only she knew what he was thinking. His gesture in covering her was tender and caring, rather like how he might behave with a child. Was that how he thought of her? She’d been intent on making him see her as a hopelessly gauche country girl. It seemed her acting had succeeded. But now, having done what she’d intended, why did she feel so disappointed? What was this foolish yearning to have him see her as a desirable woman, rather than a difficult child?

  ****

  Damn but this was miserable! How was he to sleep when his member was rock-hard, and his whole body ached with longing for the woman beside him? In the darkened room, he couldn’t see her, but that didn’t stop his imagination from running wild. In his mind’s eye, he was peeling off her thin nightgown to reveal her slender womanly form. He was kissing those pert, perfect lips, then her breasts and then lower…

  He suppressed an involuntary groan at the thought of what he wanted to do to her. Somehow he had to think of something else or he’d never sleep. Maybe he could try to recall the details of Horngate, the estate that would soon be his.

  A moment later he’d given up on the technique. It seemed whenever he thought about a certain building or facility of the estate, he immediately imagined making love to Penny there!

  Chapter Four

  Penny woke the next morning, feeling stiff and gritty-eyed; Revington was already gone. She dressed quickly, splashed water on her face, and pinned her unruly hair up into a knot. Staring into the looking glass above the wash table, she repressed a sigh. If she wanted to convince Revington she was an uncouth hoyden, she certainly looked the part. While her obvious unattractiveness served her purposes, she couldn’t help feeling a bit dismayed. The next moment, she told herself not to be such a fool. Her goal was to repel Revington, not attract him.

  She found James eating breakfast in the public taproom. He rose as she approached the table. “Miss.” He gave a slight bow, then helped her sit. Penny dove into the plate of eggs and biscuits placed before her. “Where’s Revington?” she asked after a bite or two.

  “You should get used to calling him Marcus,” James said. “He’s already eaten and is seeing to the horses. You know how anxious he is to get back to London.”

  “Why is he in such a hurry? I mean, I know London is his home, but I don’t understand why he’s racing back there.”

  James shrugged. “I think he’s got it into his head that the place will fall apart without him.” He grinned at her.

  Penny toyed thoughtfully with her food. “He said he had business interests there. What sort of business is he in?”

  “He’s a gamester. Makes his money off cards, dice, and other sorts of wagers. It probably doesn’t sound like quite the thing to a country miss, but it’s completely acceptable among the ton. In fact, Marcus’s skill is much admired. He’s made a fortune at it. His father’s a viscount, but Marcus’s older brother is the heir. Marcus was left with a modest allowance, and he’s managed to parlay that into a substantial living.”

  At that moment, Revington strode into the taproom, cracking his riding whip against his thigh. He gave the vaguest hint of a bow. “Good morning, Penny. As soon as you’re ready, we’ll set off.”

  She started to rise, but James said sharply, “No need to rush her. We’ve plenty of time.”

  Revington shot his friend a hostile look and then sat on the bench beside her. Penny suppressed a smile. Revington was clearly an impatient man. It should be easy to drive him to distraction.

  She took her time with breakfast, then rose and followed James and the glowering Revington out to the carriage. James appeared to have run out of small talk, and Penny decided not to attempt conversation either.

  It was a fine, bright morning. The carriage seemed to fly effortlessly along the count
ry roads. Even more than the day before, Penny was impressed by Revington’s driving skill. Adrian’s cowhandedness with a team had always seemed indicative of his weak character, while Revington drove with an assurance that suggested a strong and confident disposition. While Penny admired those qualities, she realized she didn’t necessarily favor them in an adversary.

  They passed through several villages and finally reached the edges of the city itself. Penny noticed a pall of smoke hanging in the air. When she mentioned it, James told her it was from the coal cooking stoves and was much worse in the winter, when coal was also burned for heat. While he didn’t seem perturbed by the haze, Penny couldn’t help contrasting it with the clean fresh air of Horngate.

  The smoke had left a layer of grime over the buildings. Indeed, everything seemed dull and gray. Even when they finally reached Mayfair, which James said was the nicest part of the city, and drove past some huge houses, Penny wasn’t impressed. “Give me a meadow cloaked in wildflowers or a forest glen bright with autumn colors,” she murmured. “The country possesses more true beauty than this.”

  “Perhaps you would like riding in Hyde Park or the visiting Vauxhall Gardens,” James suggested. “They’re a bit more rustic.”

  “Oh, that would be delightful.” Then, remembering her plan, she shouted up to Marcus, “James said you could take me to Vauxhall Gardens and riding in Hyde Park!”

  Marcus muttered something unintelligible. Penny had to struggle to keep her expression from growing smug.

  A short while later, Revington brought the chaise to a halt in front of a modest two-story dwelling. Turning back to face them, he motioned to James. “Take Penny into the house. I’ll drive the rig around to the livery stable.”

  James helped her down, and as Revington drove off, they headed for the door. James knocked sharply. A moment later a stiff-necked manservant in immaculate dress opened the door. “Hello, Bowes,” said James. “Marcus and I are just back from the country.”

  “Very good, sir,” responded Bowes.

  As the butler’s gaze alighted on Penny, James added, “This is Miss Montgomery, Marcus’s fiancée.”

  Bowes stared at her, clearly startled. “His fiancée?”

  “Yes. Marcus plans to wed Miss Montgomery as soon as everything can be arranged.”

  “I see,” Bowes responded. Although clearly, he did not. In fact, he looked appalled.

  “I presume Marcus will have a footman bring in her valise,” James said. “Until then, I’ll take Miss Montgomery up to the master suite.”

  Bowes’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s staying here?”

  Penny knew a twinge of satisfaction. The butler’s obvious distress implied Revington wasn’t used to entertaining female visitors.

  “I presume so,” said James. “At least until the wedding.”

  “I see.” Bowes frowned. The butler drew James aside and spoke in low urgent tones. Although Penny couldn’t hear all that was said, she caught the phrases “no one to wait on her” and “really not proper”. In response to the butler’s concerns, James merely shrugged and smiled. James clearly anticipated her presence in his Marcus’s life would inconvenience his friend and was amused by the situation.

  Despite the butler’s doubts, in a few moments James was escorting Penny up to the second floor of the town house, where he led her into a large bedchamber. The room was furnished with deep, understated colors that made it clear a man resided there. Everything was of the finest materials, from the dark gold brocade draperies to the rich brown, green, and cream Turkish carpet.

  “It’s a bit masculine, isn’t it?” said James. His eyes twinkling, he added, “Perhaps you could suggest that Marcus have it done over. Brighten it up with some lighter colors and more delicate furnishings.”

  Although she guessed where James was heading, she couldn’t help saying, “I actually like it. It rather reminds me of being in an autumn forest.”

  She walked to the table by the bed, where a half-dozen ivory dice were lined up, along with neat stacks of gambling counters. She started to finger the objects and then stopped. “I guess I shouldn’t touch anything. Gamblers are supposed to be nearly as superstitious as horsemen.”

  “Marcus isn’t. In fact, I’m not certain he believes in luck. He’s arrogant enough to think he’s so successful simply due to his own skill.”

  “But surely he realizes that some of it is chance. Even in horse racing, fate plays a part. I’ve seen good riders go down through no fault of their own, and sometimes a horse will perform completely against your expectations. There must be similar factors in gambling.”

  “I don’t think Marcus believes in fate either,” James answered. “He likes to think he has complete control over his destiny.”

  Oh, he does, does he, Penny thought with amusement. Well, they would see about that! She turned back to James. “Besides Vauxhall Gardens and Hyde Park, what other sights would you advise me to ask Reving…Marcus to take me to see?”

  “From what Marcus has said, you won’t have much time before the wedding for gadding about London. But I presume he will take you shopping on Bond Street.”

  “Oh, yes.” She smiled broadly. “You must tell me where I should purchase my wedding trousseau.”

  A wicked look brightened James’s countenance. “I’ve heard Madame Dubonet is the finest modiste in London. Quite pricey, I’m sure, but Marcus can afford it.” He gave her a quick smile. Penny almost laughed aloud. Marcus Revington didn’t know it yet, but he’d gotten himself in deep this time.

  ****

  “You’ve got to find her a maid.” James took the brandy Marcus held out. “It’s not proper for her to stay in this house without some sort of female companion, especially since you’re not married yet.”

  Marcus sat in his usual chair in the drawing room and took a swallow of brandy. He’d hoped imbibing some spirits would improve his mood, but James’s reminder of his responsibilities canceled out the warm glow the brandy gave him. He was trying to avoid thinking about tonight, when he’d have to sleep on the hard, narrow bed Bowes was having made up in the spare bedchamber. Now James reminded him of another difficulty he faced with his prospective wife. “Well, I don’t imagine I can hire a maid today,” he answered irritably. “It’s nearly tea time. All the agencies will be closed by now.”

  “At the very least, you must have one of the servants help her undress and see that her clothing is laundered. Otherwise, the poor thing will have nothing to wear when you take her shopping tomorrow.”

  Marcus groaned.

  “You know it can’t be helped. Until she has a maid to escort her, you’ll have to do the honors. And as badly as she needs new clothing, you can’t afford to delay.”

  “The only woman I have employed here is Maggie, the cook.”

  “Well, have her see to Penny then. If we eat late, it won’t be the end of the world.”

  Marcus rose slowly. “I guess I’ll go talk to Maggie. Bowes would only make a muddle of it. He doesn’t seem to get on with her.”

  “I’m not surprised,” James said, dryly. “Bowes is a bit full of himself. You should have seen him look down his nose at Penny when they first met. You would have thought he was the Prince Regent and she a grubby street urchin.”

  “Dash it! She didn’t notice, did she?”

  “Oh, I think she did.”

  Marcus’s tension increased as he started for the door. He felt enraged at the idea of Penny being treated rudely. He must insist that every member of his household give her the respect she was due as his wife. It was the least he could do for the chit.

  He went downstairs to the kitchen, where Maggie was cutting up vegetables. The Irishwoman gaped at him when he told her what he wanted. “You want me to wait on your wife?” She shook her head, coppery curls bobbing under her mop cap. “I don’t know nothing ’bout waiting on ladies.”

  “She isn’t a lady. That is…she is, but she’s been living out in the country without female companionship f
or so long, she doesn’t have any notion what a lady’s maid is supposed to do. Assist her with whatever she needs. Undo her dress, help her take down her hair, comb it out.” He gestured helplessly. “She only has the one gown, so it’ll have to be washed.”

  “Washed, sir?”

  “Surely, you know how. You must attend to your own laundry.”

  “Of course, but while I’m doing all this, who will see to supper, sir?”

  Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or thinking about all the things he must do to get his wife settled in, but he was getting a megrim. “Don’t worry over it. I don’t care how late I eat. As a matter of fact, I’ll take a meal at the club. You’ll only have to feed her and the other servants, and I’m certain she’s used to plain food.”

  The cook stared at him a moment longer, then wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll try, sir, but this is all most irregular. If you’d given us some hint you were going to take a wife, we could have managed much better.”

  Marcus was about to say that the arrangement was more a business venture than a marriage. Then he realized how cold and condescending that would sound. He must start treating Penny with a little more deference or the servants would never come to respect her. Of course, that didn’t really matter. She’d be going back to Horngate soon enough.

  The thought eased his mood but didn’t completely reassure him. He’d known Penny a little more than a day, and she’d already turned his life upside down. He’d begun to suspect that James was right. Collecting on his wager wouldn’t be a simple matter.

  This thought was reinforced when he returned to the library. “So, since Penny’s in your bedchamber, where are you going to sleep tonight?” James asked him. “Or are you going to share a bed with her again?”

  “Certainly not! I’m not sharing a bed with Penny until we’re properly wed. For now, I’ll have to make do with whatever Bowes has found for me sleep on in the spare room.” Just the thought of it made him grimace.

  “It’s your own fault,” James remarked. “You never bothered to do up this house properly. You have only a skeleton staff and a handful of rooms that are really livable.”