The Debutante's Wager
by
Donna Cummings
All of London knows Lord Travender’s heart is a prize that cannot be won. An inveterate gambler, he’s willing to risk everything on the turn of a card or prime racing stock, yet never on the unpredictability of love. Until a bit of quick wit and risqué banter sends his heart galloping…
One minute he’s warning Miss Arrington he’ll break her heart, and the next, he’s agreeing to a wager: Who will fall in love first?
The game seems simple. Tess Arrington wishes to regain a beloved painting her scapegrace brother lost to Lord Travender. For her part, she gambles her renowned French chef. But the stakes are continually raised as each employ ever more delightful, inventive, and…intimate methods of persuasion.
If love is the ultimate gamble, will they dare to risk it all?
Copyright 2017 Donna Cummings. All Rights Reserved.
Cover by Carrie Peters, http://www.cheekycovers.com
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment and may not be re-sold or given away. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.
Dedication
For Heather
Thanks for all the advice, and hand-holding, and butt-kicking—
and for knowing precisely which one is needed at any given moment.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About the Author
Connect Online
Other Available Books
Future Releases
Newsletter Signup
"It never goes smoothly when we get personally involved with the mortals."
~ Ares, God of War
"But that is what makes it so entertaining."
~ Aphrodite, Goddess of Love
Chapter 1
Tony Bonham, Lord Travender, entered the crowded ballroom, intent on avoiding his matchmaking cousin Felicia. Luck was with him, for the meddling creature was nowhere to be seen, most likely performing her hostess duties elsewhere.
He sighed in relief and headed for the card room. It was his only refuge from the parade of fresh-faced debutantes Felicia insisted on presenting, hoping she could help him fulfill their family curse.
But he did not believe it was his fate to fall instantly in love. He was more likely to be struck by a bolt of lightning than pierced by Cupid's arrow.
Still, he understood Felicia's devotion to the family curse, for she had fallen instantly in love with the notorious Lord Wastrel, at the man's betrothal ball no less. Not long after, her brother Julian, a duke, had been immediately smitten with a vicar's daughter who had been jilted at her elopement.
Their beloved Great-Aunt Uproar had fallen head over ears in love, too, several decades ago—with the family coachman.
Tony was the only one the curse had ignored. It was no real surprise, for he had never encountered a female likely to interest him for much longer than it took to win her favors. How could he expect to find a woman who would make him lose his heart instantly? Or for the rest of his life?
Even he, an inveterate gambler, did not like the odds of that ever occurring.
"Tony! There you are."
He nearly groaned at Felicia's insistent voice. How had she found him? Perhaps he could lose himself in the crowd, pretending he had not heard her.
"Do not pretend you cannot hear me," she said, laughing. "I saw you turn away the instant I uttered your name."
He spun around, grinning. He loved his cousin, even if she did bring constant mayhem in her wake.
"Felicia, I cannot believe your accusations. I merely saw someone in the crowd I wished to consult, about a pair of bays I thought to acquire before the next racing season."
She kept from rolling her eyes, but only because she had another debutante in tow, the poor creature unable to escape Felicia's firm grip.
"Permit me to introduce—" Felicia was halted by a rather loud crash at the other end of the ballroom. "Oh dear. Lucinda must have decided to rearrange something, even though I specifically asked her to refrain. What four-year-old can resist all of these festive decorations?"
Tony couldn't keep from laughing. "She is so like her mama, never heeding any instruction with which she disagrees."
Felicia's eyes narrowed, but she did not have time to reply, for another loud noise sent her scurrying off to prevent a second disaster. Tony turned his attention to the young woman who had not yet been introduced, but she had disappeared too. It was just as well, since he had no interest in a chit who could not even approach him without cowering.
Perhaps it would save everyone a great deal of agony if he reminded Felicia of the sort of female he preferred. It might curtail the worst of her misguided attempts at matchmaking, though he was not convinced the woman who could capture his heart truly existed.
Tony spun on his heel to head once more towards the card room. He nearly collided with a young miss standing in his path. He gave her a quick glance before adding politely, "My apologies."
"There is no need. Truly."
He started to turn away, but her soft voice captured his attention. Why did she seem vaguely familiar? It finally dawned on him—and he bit back a curse.
Her lips lifted in a grin. "Yes, I am similar to my brother in appearance. It makes for rather interesting social encounters of late."
And no wonder. James Arrington's rampant gambling debts had made him flee to the continent quite recently. Tony had once counted James a friend, yet he had never made the acquaintance of the man's sister. Probably because she did not frequent gaming hells and card rooms.
Tony wanted to dislike her, just for her unfortunate resemblance to her scapegrace brother. But how could he blame her for that accident of birth?
He found himself admiring her beauty, the rich brown hair, with curls framing her face, and eyes that sparkled with intelligence and wit. Always his downfall. Especially when paired with full lips twisted into a mischievous smile, like hers were now.
He managed to reclaim his typical aplomb. "I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Arrington."
She laughed. "There are not many willing to say that these days."
Tony shrugged. "I am not willing to miss the opportunity to speak with an Incomparable, merely because she has the misfortune of being kin to a black sheep."
"Perhaps because your kin is comprised of black sheep too?"
He tilted his head back and laughed. "Yes, perhaps that is the reason." He found himself intrigued, the first time in a long while that anything but cards or dice had made him feel this alive. "I cannot believe I have not seen you previously. Your brother must have hidden you away."
"I have been rusticating," she said, although she glanced away. Tony was keenly aware of those things that gave a gambler away. He prided himself on not displaying any of his own, for he was not about to risk his family's wealth on such a weakness.
What might Miss Arrington be trying to hide? His interest increased a thousandfold.
"It is my great good fortune that you have decided to visit London," he said. He lifted her gloved fingers to his lips, leaving a brief kiss there.
"It is my good fortune as well."
"Indeed?"
"Yes, because I was h
opeful I would find you here."
Her gaze was filled with optimism, but Tony could not discern why. Surely she did not expect him to aid her brother? His former friend had sealed his doom when he had fled to the continent, leaving his creditors behind. There was no reason for her to expect anything from him, unless—
He nearly groaned. Of course. Felicia had sent her over. He had been distracted by Miss Arrington's wit and lively banter, forgetting just how devoted his cousin was to finding someone with whom he should fall in love.
"You don't want to set your cap at me," he warned good-naturedly. "I am guaranteed to break your heart."
Her cheeks pinkened. He fully expected her to stumble through some sort of apology before disappearing into the crush of people surrounding them.
"Would you care to place a wager on that, my lord?"
Tony choked back a laugh. "A wager on when I shall break your heart?"
"Of course not. I meant a wager on when I shall win yours."
His eyebrows shot up, along with his interest in this atypical miss. He considered her carefully, enjoying how she did not drop her gaze. In truth, she examined him quite boldly, as if determining whether he was worth her continued effort.
Tony's earlier disappointment was replaced with delight. "I believe I am going to enjoy this Season immensely."
He saw her shiver ever so slightly, but she did not retreat. Instead, she stepped a pace closer, and this time her rosewater scent enveloped him, wreaking havoc on his senses. Was it her intention to distract him? If so, she was already halfway to winning this wager.
"Are you certain you can last as long as the Season, my lord? It requires a certain amount of stamina."
His body reacted instantly to her bold words. He had to fight off the urge to grasp her around the waist and find a secluded spot to show her how much she affected him. He was not about to relinquish any power this early in the game, however.
Instead he nodded, struggling to keep his lips from curving into a smile. "I can assure you, I have a great deal of stamina."
"I have heard rumors in that vein."
"Is that so?" He should have increased the distance between them, but found it impossible just then. "What sort of rumors have you heard?"
"About your heart. That is what we were speaking of, were we not?"
"I believe we were speaking of yours, Miss Arrington, and the danger it faces."
Her eyes twinkled. "I have no intention of losing this wager, or my heart."
"Nor do I. Yet someone will pay a high price if they are not victorious. What is it we are putting at risk? It must be something of great value."
"I agree."
"I can think of something valuable you possess," Tony began, deliberately eyeing her with boldness, just to test her mettle. Would she swoon perhaps? Or utter a horrified gasp before racing out of the ballroom?
Miss Arrington merely lifted her eyebrows, the portrait of a haughty grande dame. "I do not believe it is wise to wager that, my lord. For one thing, you cannot be assured I still possess it."
It was his turn to raise his eyebrows.
"And if I do," she continued serenely, "what is to prevent me from losing it before the wager is concluded? That would make as little sense as me suggesting you offer marriage when I win this wager."
"A very intriguing argument. However, I was speaking of something else entirely. Your family's French chef. I heard of his culinary prowess many times from your brother, when he and I were still bosom beaux."
She kept her eyes on him, but Tony could swear there was a hint of relief in her expression. "You have something valuable as well. A painting stolen from my brother—"
Tony's lips twisted wryly. He had won the painting fair and square one evening when James had nothing left to wager. "I would describe its provenance rather differently."
"I have no doubt of that." She paused. "So, we are agreed? If—rather, when you fall in love with me, you shall relinquish your claim to the painting. Forever. And you will announce it to the ton in a most spectacular fashion. Perhaps by singing my praises, in Hyde Park, at the height of the social hour."
"Singing? I assume you mean that quite literally. Which may prove disastrous for those who must endure my dreadful warbling." He felt a strange sensation in his stomach, the same as when he was on the cusp of a winning streak. "If you win, of course."
She smiled, and nodded. "I am quite confident in the outcome."
"As am I." Tony grinned once more, barely masking his excitement. "And when I prove victorious, because you will find it impossible to keep from falling in love with me—"
He could see her bite her lip to keep from retorting, or smiling.
"You shall deliver your renowned French chef to me, and we shall have him prepare a celebratory feast for the both of us." He lifted her hand to his lips once more. "At a location of my choosing."
Miss Arrington dropped an elegant curtsy, yet her expression was clearly mocking. He had to hide yet another smile at her brazen impudence, a quality he found inexplicably attractive.
"May the best heart win," she added, and then sailed serenely towards the terrace doors.
***
Aphrodite chuckled at the obviously intrigued man watching the beautiful young miss depart.
"Follow her," she urged in a low voice. Not that he could hear her, for she was standing with Ares near the edge of the ballroom. A perfect spot for plotting her next matchmaking endeavor. One that involved this very same couple, little though they knew it.
It was her last opportunity to entertain herself amongst the mortals. She had promised Ares they would return to Mount Olympus once they were done, and now it was nearly time to do so. She sighed. How would anyone find true love without her invaluable assistance?
Ares took her hand in his and lifted it for a kiss.
"I find myself rather reluctant to return home," he said, shaking his head, clearly bemused by his confession. "To my surprise, I have quite enjoyed myself here."
Aphrodite could scarce contain her shock. How many times had she cajoled him to linger, never certain he would agree with her plans? Still, it was rather endearing that he had come to relish their adventures. And she would admit all of that cajoling had proved very pleasurable, for both of them.
"You never know, dearest." Aphrodite linked her arm in his while they strolled along the edge of the ballroom. "Perhaps I shall grow bored with the perfection of Mount Olympus again, and need to return here for additional entertainment. Until then, we can enjoy ourselves seeing that one last couple finds true love."
"The gambler? Is he the one you have chosen?" When she nodded, he added, "What do you have in mind for him?"
"I have no idea. His interest in the young miss is plain to see, much as he thinks he is disguising it. I wonder if I should select a more challenging scenario instead."
Ares's eyes lit up. "Perhaps I could try my hand at this matchmaking game."
That startled a laugh out of her. "Matchmaking does not involve combatants in a fight to the death."
"What can be more important to fight for than one's heart? Ensuring it is protected from harm, and given only to the one who values it above all else?"
His impassioned delivery stirred her in several unexpected ways. "My valiant warrior has become surprisingly romantic. I shall expect a recitation of an epic poem soon."
"I only know epic poems about war and battles." His expression was filled with indulgence. "But perhaps I can find a way to modify one into an ode to love, for my love."
"As long as there are a few verses about the terms of surrender," she teased. "Once the battle has concluded."
"You have just mentioned my favorite aspect. Shall we retire and finish detailing these terms?"
"Of course. I always love to see you surrender."
"You cannot see it when I have your eyes covered with my cravat."
Ares reached for the linen at his throat, as if he might unwind it right there, in front of the
entire assembly. The wicked gleam in his eyes caused Aphrodite to shiver with unbearable anticipation.
"We should make haste," she managed. "Before you persuade me to do something quite untoward in the middle of this ballroom."
"Is it untoward when—"
He whispered the most daring words in her ear. Aphrodite grabbed his hand and raced towards the terrace doors, intent on returning to their carriage, and ultimately their bedchamber, leaving behind all her previous thoughts of matchmaking.
Chapter 2
Tess strolled through the entryway of her home, tugging at her gloves to remove them. What an unexpected turn the evening had taken.
She had set out with such high hopes of completing a simple task: plead with Lord Travender to return her family's most prized possession, and then race home to tell her grandfather the wonderful news.
Instead Tess had challenged the ton's premier gambler to a wager, goading him to bet his heart—the one prize all of London knew could not be won.
Tess sighed as she turned towards the stairs. She dreaded having to inform her grandfather the painting was even farther out of her reach than before. At least that news could wait until morning…
"Is that you, Tess?"
Her grandfather peeked his head around the doorway of the parlor, grinning mischievously. She could scarce remember him without that expression—not until her brother's recent selfish act.
"What are you still doing up, Grandpapa? I would have thought you had retired hours ago."
"I could not sleep when my granddaughter was attending an important society event. One of her first." He bit back a yawn, but just barely.
She laughed and linked her arm with his. "I shall ring for some chocolate for the both of us, and then regale you with this evening's events. You are bound to be surprised."
"I am fine without the chocolate." He winked. "Though I would not mind a wee nip of brandy."
The Debutante's Wager (The Curse of True Love Book 4) Page 1