"Miss Arrington, I must return the portrait to you. I cannot in good conscience keep it."
He anticipated seeing her overjoyed expression once more, but to his dismay, her countenance was troubled.
"I should accept your offer, knowing the return of my grandfather's painting will bring him a great deal of joy." Her expression softened. "Yet he is convinced I shall win this wager quite handily, and I cannot bear to disappoint him. You can see my dilemma."
"Indeed." He tapped a finger against his lips, as if devising a solution. "It seems the best course of action is to continue with our wager, in the hopes you can win, thus making your grandfather doubly joyous."
"Yes, though I am relying on more than mere hope." She tilted her head, gazing at him, her lips twitching with amusement. "Are you certain you have not fallen in love with me?"
He struggled to keep his smile at bay. "Not yet, unfortunately. I do apologize."
"No need," she replied cheerfully. "I would find it less than sporting if you were to tumble head over ears too quickly."
Tony's heart pounded erratically. He was grateful Miss Arrington was unwilling to end their delightful verbal sparring. He had not realized just how much he wanted it to continue until it seemed it might end that very day.
And if he did not keep that information to himself, Felicia would be crowing at his much-too-obvious interest in this intriguing female…
"Tony! What a surprise to see you here."
He nearly groaned at the sound of his cousin's voice. He should have realized she would not heed his instructions to stay away.
He spun around and saw Felicia with Great-Aunt Uproar in tow, both of them beaming at him. There was no chance of escape now. The best he could do was mitigate whatever damage Felicia the misguided matchmaker might attempt.
"No one is more surprised than I am," Tony said dryly. "Felicia, Great-Aunt, have you made the acquaintance of Miss Tess Arrington?"
"It is such a pleasure," Felicia said.
"Indeed it is," Great-Aunt Uproar added. She tilted her head and then said, "You bear a striking similarity to—"
Tony hastened to steer the conversation in another direction before his aunt blurted out Tess's resemblance to her scandalous sibling. Yet Tess merely smiled, not at all distressed, clearly accustomed to such remarks.
"Pay her no need," Felicia laughed. "Great-Aunt is always saying she is reminded of someone."
Great-Aunt harrumphed. "When you have spent several decades amongst the ton, you will have more sympathy. I have seen several generations come and go. And plan to see several more."
"Of course you have." Felicia gave her a good-natured squeeze. "And none of them have ever proved to be a stranger to you."
Great-Aunt's face lit up with triumph. "Now I know the connection. You must be related to Tatiana Arrington. Such a beauty she was. We were all so envious of her." She sighed wistfully. "Her hats were the grandest of anyone I ever knew."
Miss Arrington laughed with genuine delight. "She was a beauty, wasn't she? I am flattered you see a likeness between us." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "And I was always stealing into her dressing room to try on her beautiful hats."
The women continued to chat about all manner of feminine interests, while Tony did his best to ignore Felicia's raised eyebrows, pretending he did not understand her less-than-subtle signal that she approved of Miss Arrington.
Yet, curiously, he had to fight off the urge to insert himself into the conversation, wanting to reel Miss Arrington's attention back to him. He could not remember the last time he had experienced even a twinge of jealousy. He knew for certain his cousin and aunt had never incited that particular emotion.
Was this madness a byproduct of the family curse?
There was no opportunity to devise an answer, because in the next instant, Great-Aunt Uproar exclaimed, "There she is again!" She raced off into the crowd, leaving Felicia and Tony gaping.
"Does this happen often?" Tony asked with genuine concern. Felicia spent more time with their aunt than anyone else, and would know if the poor woman was beginning to lose her faculties.
"It is a fairly recent development," Felicia replied. "Lately she swears she has seen a woman from her youth, the very night when she fell instantly in love—"
Tony halted Felicia before she spilled even more startling information. He did not want Miss Arrington forfeiting the wager because she feared they were all stricken with an incurable malady.
"Similar to Miss Arrington's grandmother then."
"Not precisely." Felicia grinned. "Great-Aunt is adamant that this woman, Lady Carramonte, has not aged since the day they first met. Nearly fifty years ago."
***
"Drat!" Aphrodite glanced around, trying to find a hiding place, but there was little hope of that unless she turned herself into a painting and adhered herself to a nearby wall. "How did she manage to find me in this crush?"
Ares gave her a curious look. "You have seen her previously. At the Weyson betrothal ball. Why are you avoiding her now?"
"She is my only matchmaking failure!" Aphrodite had not intended for the poor thing to fall in love with the family coachman, yet Aurore had, and the unlikely pair had remained devoted to each other for decades, despite the marital impediments. "And I am afraid she wishes to ask me about my part in all of it."
"Ahh. You have no easy way to explain how you have the same beautiful goddess-like appearance as five decades ago."
"Precisely."
Aphrodite appreciated Ares's understanding of the situation, as well as his lovely compliment. She maneuvered herself behind him, grateful for his stature, albeit for quite a different reason at this particular moment. Once she was hidden from view, she peeked around him, hoping Aurore had given up her quest.
"Perhaps you could cast some sort of spell," Ares suggested. "To cloud her memory of when the two of you first met."
The feel of Ares's strong body against hers was clouding her thoughts. She shook her head to clear her mind, at least until this fracas was over.
"I would prefer to leave the spells to another time, dearest. Maybe some other sort of diversion could be used instead."
He turned his head slightly and she could see his lips were lifted in a devilish grin. "Something scandalous?"
"It sounds quite promising." She eyed him with lustful interest. "What did you have in mind?"
"A surprise."
"I hope it involves those dreadful statues of me in the Antiquities Room. They are not even a good likeness, but when I see myself with no arms…"
She shuddered but Ares merely laughed heartily, leading her away from the crowd.
***
Tess watched as Lady Weyson followed her aunt into the mass of spectators. Tess had thought her own family a bit unusual, and even eccentric, but Lord Travender's relatives made hers seem amateur in comparison. She laughed. It was a relief to be with people who had no approbation or disdain for her brother's scandals, or the tales about her notorious grandparents.
"Quite a different outing than you had anticipated, I wager," Lord Travender commented.
"Another wager?" Tess pretended to rifle through her reticule. "I shall need to start a scorecard to keep track of all of them."
He grinned and then tucked her arm in his once more. "And I shall have to stay alert lest you win every single one."
"I could cry defeat on one or two, if you like."
"A sweet offer, but not at all sporting. I prefer to win on the merits."
He halted them in front of another painting, but Tess could not keep her attention on anything but the handsome man standing so close to her. His words were innocuous, but she could not help but reflect on what was at stake.
Her heart.
It was proving more of a challenge than she had anticipated to keep her interest at bay. Even if she were to lose her heart to him one day, she could profess that it did not occur. Probably the wise thing to do. But definitely not at all sporting.<
br />
Why had she thought it a good idea to instigate this wager with a man who professed himself immune to love? If she were sensible, she would have accepted his offer to return the painting. But it seemed she was more selfish than sensible just then, for she had chosen to follow her grandfather's advice about pursuing her own happiness, at least a little while longer.
The truth was she had begun to crave the banter and battle of wits with Lord Travender. If she were lucky, she could enjoy those aspects while keeping a fierce lock on her heart.
If she proved unlucky…
"Was the painting of your grandmother the one that was displayed here?"
Tess shook her head. "I cannot remember precisely which one he exhibited. I shall have to ask him. He has such wonderful stories about that time in his life. The artists were so competitive with each other, employing a variety of tricks to ensure their paintings stood out."
"I would love to hear them some time." His interest was not feigned, which pleased her a great deal. "I suppose you have inherited your family's artistic talents."
"I wish I had. The best I can do is be an appreciative audience. I dabbled with paints when I was younger." Tess laughed. "The only time I saw my grandfather wince was after my attempt to depict the sweet face of my favorite lamb."
"It offended his artistic sensibilities?"
"No, it was after he had complimented me on the portrait, saying it was such a wonderful likeness of James." She laughed once more at the memory. "James was completely horrified, of course."
"I can well imagine. I do hope your portrait of him, er, the lamb has been preserved."
"Unfortunately, James is not as appreciative of an audience as I am." She grinned. "As soon as he tore it to bits, I secretly made another, only this time I deliberately painted his face on the animal's. It seemed only fitting."
"I commend you, Miss Arrington." His gaze was an admiring one, and she could see he was fighting off a smile. "I begin to see why James never introduced us to each other."
"So that I could not reveal how he served as inspiration for my artwork?"
He leaned in closer and his bay rum scent seemed both comforting and exotic, all at once. His lips were close enough that his breath tickled her ear. She could not halt the delicious shivers he evoked. Nor could she halt her thoughts from imagining his mouth on hers, teasing her with kisses that grew more passionate…
She would never know what he meant to say, for in the next instant, there was a loud crash in the corner. They both whipped their heads around to see what had happened. From his expression, she could see he feared the worst, but several moments later, Felicia and Great-Aunt Aurore appeared, their countenances free of guilt.
"What happened?" Tess asked.
"Apparently a marble statue toppled to the floor," Felicia answered. "Though no one seems to know how it occurred."
Great-Aunt Aurore added, "I am quite certain Lady Carramonte was there moments beforehand."
Lord Travender shot a glance at Felicia, who merely shrugged. In an obvious effort to change the course of the conversation, Felicia said, "Miss Arrington, I hope you are still planning on attending tea this week."
"Of course. I am quite looking forward to it."
"As am I," Lord Travender said. "Which day is it again?"
Felicia grinned. "You are incorrigible, Tony. I have already told you this is for ladies only." When he appeared to growl, she added, "However, you are welcome to visit with Hugh. I am sure he has a great deal of advice you will find useful."
She tossed a wink in Tess's direction and then tucked her arm in her aunt's. They sailed serenely away, leaving Lord Travender staring after them with his jaw dropped.
Chapter 5
Tony made his way through the crowded ballroom, only this time he was seeking out, rather than escaping, a debutante. He had spent the past sennight with the enchanting Miss Arrington, every chance he was given, yet he was always impatient to see her once more.
"Some refreshment, Miss Arrington."
He offered her a cup of punch, careful to keep an eye out for an errant elbow that might cause a spill. Such an unexpected crush that evening. It bordered on the miraculous that anything remained in the cup by the time he could return to her side.
She took a sip and then smiled up at him. "Why does it seem you draw a larger crowd every time you attend a ball or a rout? Perhaps they have heard rumors—"
"Of an impending aria from me? If that is the reason for everyone's attendance, I am certain I can name the culprit."
"Yes?" She gazed at him with an innocent expression. "Oh, you meant I was whispering such tales."
He could not hold back a laugh at her mock surprise. The mischievous twinkle in her eyes set his heart to racing, as it always seemed to do. He could not seem to get enough of her saucy banter and sweet mien.
"I might have rushed to judgment," he said.
"It was unerring when it came to this punch. My throat was quite parched. For a moment, I feared I might lose my ability to speak, and then how would I continue to woo you?"
"It would make things a great deal more challenging."
"I could speak meaningfully with my eyes."
"Ah, yes. Perhaps you could demonstrate, in case you were to grow hoarse at some distant time in the future."
He could see how she tried to mask her amusement, but it still shone through. "I would stare at you quite boldly for several moments. Like this."
He grinned, partly to mask his rising excitement. "The gossips have already started their tongue-wagging."
"They shall be hoarse, too, once I do this." She batted her eyelashes for a few moments, and then stepped forward, until she was shockingly close to him.
"I am near to swooning," he teased. "I can only imagine what the rest of the ton is doing just now."
"If you continue to report on their reactions, you shall miss mine entirely."
This time he caught his breath. She was right, of course. Why would he care about the aging gossips when he had this seductive beauty right in front of him, doing her best to make him lose—
He would not admit how she affected him. He could not; not when it meant she was closer to winning this wager than he was. Still, he was not ready to retreat.
"You are exceedingly proficient," he said.
"Proficient?" She gave a moue of disappointment. "I had not expected my attempts at wooing to be described in that fashion."
"Surely you cannot expect me to fall at your feet so easily?"
She laughed. "Of course not. But you could at least make this poor debutante believe she is making some headway."
"My apologies, Miss Arrington." He lifted her gloved hand to his lips. "Please accept my regrets for such boorish behavior."
He lingered over the kiss, making sure he kept his eyes locked with hers. He did not miss the way her eyes widened, even though she tried to hide it. She could not disguise the way her bosom rose and fell with her quickened breaths. In truth, he was not likely to conceal his physical response to her much longer if he continued in this vein.
But the gambler in him did not want to stop. The rogue in him certainly did not wish to halt. Was she willing to continue as well?
She leaned a little closer, and tightened her hand on his. "I accept your delightful apology, my lord. Although it tempts me to goad you further, so that I might enjoy many more of your apologies."
"Is it wise to warn me of your plans?"
"Wise? Perhaps not. But it is quite enjoyable. Especially when I see you plotting how to outmaneuver me."
"That is the whole point of our wager though."
"The point of our wager," she said with a delightful grin, "is to make you fall in love with me."
He threw his head back and laughed. "I would not spend your winnings so soon. There is still a great deal of time left."
"I am the picture of patience." She took another sip of her punch. "I would not wish to rush you through your singing lessons. Just how did
you fare with Signor Baratelli?"
"He could not cease with his praise."
"Indeed?"
"Yes. I favored him with a popular tune, and would have delivered another, but he halted me, declaring me the most brilliant of all his pupils." Tony pretended to frown. "Though he has been unable to attend any lessons beyond our first one. I am not certain why."
Her uninhibited laughter was a treasure. "Perhaps because he cannot improve upon perfection."
"It is what I assumed. And what about you? Have you begun seeking out a new chef? I would not wish you to become famished once Henri has changed establishments."
"I do not see that occurring. But I would ensure he prepared several months' worth of meals to console me until I found a suitable replacement."
Just then the orchestra began to play a waltz, and Tony held his hand out to her. She looked around for somewhere to set the now-empty cup she held in her hand. A passing waiter took it, and then Tony pulled Miss Arrington into his embrace.
His earlier talk of perfection could not compare to the sensation of having her in his arms. He tried to slow his racing heart, not wanting it to reveal his growing emotions for her, emotions he was still trying to comprehend. His arm fit so easily around her waist. Her hand rested so perfectly in his. He tipped his head down, wanting a more intimate touch—his lips against hers.
"My lord," she murmured.
Her soft voice drew him in even more. He closed the remaining space between them until he heard her gasp. It finally brought him to his senses.
He gazed into her eyes, an apology at the ready for attempting such intimacies, and in such a public venue, but she was neither shocked nor scandalized.
She was gloating.
When she began to hum a tune under her breath, her eyes twinkling the entire time, Tony laughed. It seemed he might have finally met his match.
He just was not certain what to do about that.
***
Tess gave a quick curtsy and then departed, heading for the open door to the terrace. She needed the coolness of the night air on her overheated skin. While she reveled in every encounter with Lord Travender, they seemed to raise her temperature to almost unbearable levels, this dance more so than the others. Being in his embrace, the length of her body pressed against his…
The Debutante's Wager (The Curse of True Love Book 4) Page 3