The Earl's Winning Wager

Home > Other > The Earl's Winning Wager > Page 6
The Earl's Winning Wager Page 6

by Jen Geigle Johnson


  Grace hurried out first.

  “My dear Miss Grace. Are you to be coming? I thought not…” He frowned. She was far too young to be out in society, and he couldn’t be standing at her side the whole night through. Nor could he trust the members of the ton to do right by her.

  Her pout was obvious as she neared, and her red-rimmed eyes told him what she was about to say. “No, I’m not coming,” she said. “Though I think it vastly unfair. I am perfectly happy to sit on the side of the ballroom, to simply watch.” She looked up into his face with such sadness he was almost convinced to forgo his night of dancing at the assembly so she could attend with him constantly at her side. But then Miss Standish stepped outside the door, and he forgot all about Grace and her beguiling pout. He stepped closer, his hand outstretched.

  Miss Standish’s gown shimmered. She wore a lovely green that complimented his own jacket. Although hers was lighter and sparkled somehow, he enjoyed the complimentary hues with his jacket.

  “You match.” Grace giggled. “You look so well together.” Her hands went to her cheeks. “I wish I could remember this vision right here. I wish I could see all the beauty at the assembly.” Her pout returned.

  “Grace, you shall attend many an assembly when you are old enough.”

  Morley bowed over Miss Standish’s hand. “You look beautiful. Not an eye will be able to look away, including mine.” He tried to show his sincerity as he stared into her eyes. Her small smile gave him hope. Perhaps she would see him differently, as someone who wanted to court her. His own thoughts surprised him. The intensity of his feelings seemed to grow with every meeting. Could he convince her of his own worthiness? That was the real question, for he now knew he very much wanted to try.

  The other sisters joined them.

  He held a hand out, bowing over each. “You all look magnificent. And I heard a rumor we might have some elevated visitors at this smallest of all assemblies.”

  “Oh?” Lucy’s eyes filled with hope. “Who?”

  “I have heard the Duchess of York will attend, as well as some very well-connected cousins of hers. They are purported to be handsome.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Charity looked away, apparently not impressed.

  But Lucy had stars beaming from her face. “And the duke’s son? The Duke of Stratton?”

  Every eye turned to her.

  “Have you an interest in Lord Felling?” Miss Standish held her hand out to Lucy and guided her and them all toward the carriage.

  “I might. I think any son of a duke might be of interest.”

  “But especially a handsome one?” Kate teased, then adjusted her skirts. “I am most interested in the gowns. I should like to see the fashions we might be gifted next year.” Her sigh was almost comical in its dramatic flair.

  “That reminds me. The duke has left money aside for a modiste and a new gown for each of you.”

  Kate clasped her hands together. “I couldn’t be happier if someone had gifted me the world.” She swayed in her spot.

  “Now, don’t swoon. Please.” Miss Standish and he shared a look. “Let’s all get in the carriage,” Miss Standish said. “And sit closely, for I don’t think Lord Morley should have to ride on top.”

  “We can all fit, surely. Grace isn’t coming.”

  “Oh, you had to say it.” Grace crossed her arms.

  “Now, tell the footman to lock the doors. You may entertain yourself in the kitchen or catch up on your reading up in our rooms.” Miss Standish smiled and then embraced Grace. “We shall be back, and we will tell you all the lovely sights we see.”

  “I shall die of boredom with every minute I am left here waiting. Oh, do have fun!”

  Lord Morley held Miss Standish’s hand as she climbed up into the carriage to join all her other sisters, and then he too alighted. The footman closed their door. He tapped on the roof, and they were off.

  He tried not to notice how closely he sat to Miss Standish, but one-half of his body warmed and reminded him with every shift of hers. He cleared his throat. “I should like to dance with each of you. But if a far more handsome man asks you, you may accept his offer. We are, after all, here to introduce you to more of society.”

  They giggled.

  “But I should like to dance first with Miss Standish, if she’ll have me.”

  Her shy dip of her chin charmed him. “Certainly. Thank you for the distinction.”

  The carriage ride was all too short for Morley, but each sister seemed more than anxious to exit and attend.

  “Have you been to an assembly here before?”

  “We have, but never in so much splendor. Thank you.” Miss Standish placed her hand on his arm.

  When the footman opened their carriage door, Morley hopped out and helped each of the girls down. “And now we shall be about the introductions.” He grinned, and they all entered the assembly hall together.

  As soon as they walked in the door, two girls ran forward and clasped the hands of Lucy and Kate. Pleased, Morley smiled down at Miss Standish. “I’m happy to see they will have friends here.”

  “You have undertaken quite a harrowing job, escorting a family of four sisters to an assembly.”

  “At least you are all sensible and can be trusted to make good choices.”

  Her eyebrow lifted.

  He hurried to add, “And can well make decisions for your own welfare.”

  She laughed. “I wanted to apologize. I do thank you for your concern and for your insight.”

  “Pleased I am to hear it. But I have learned my lesson. I will not interfere on your behalf unless the situation turns dire.”

  “And what would constitute dire? I’m all ears.” Her face said she was teasing, the rise of one corner of her mouth, her brilliant eyes dazzling sparkles of light at him. But he could only think of about one hundred scenarios that would be considered dire in his book.

  Lord Smallwood approached and bowed. “I am so pleased you have come. Might I have our dance?”

  The music began, and Miss Standish started. “Oh! Lord Smallwood. I have promised the first to Lord Morley, but I can save you the second?”

  Morley’s triumph beamed out his eyes as he noted the narrowed expression on Lord Smallwood’s face.

  But Smallwood just bowed. “Certainly. I will be counting the beats until it is our turn.” He turned from them without another look at Morley, who couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “My, we’ve upset his sensibilities.”

  “You don’t look at all unhappy to have done so.”

  “Of course I’m not.” He paused. “But are you? Would you rather dance the first with him?” His heart shuddered at the thought.

  But Miss Standish shook her head. “No, of course not. I have agreed to this set with you. And you’ve done so much to help us. I’m pleased to take the first.” But her expression clouded, and he wished to wash the line of concern from her brow. “Do you think he is very much disappointed?”

  “Lord Smallwood?” Morley glanced over at him. His sullen expression and crossed arms did give rise to some evidence he was displeased. “He does look a bit unraveled, but never fear. You shall dance away his worries in the second set. This, Miss Standish, is what happens to all lords during a dance. They can’t have every woman they desire at the exact moment they wish to dance with her, and it unsettles the more competitive among us.”

  She seemed a bit mollified. “And they don’t give up? They still return their attentions?”

  Her great concern about Smallwood’s attentions was in no small way disturbing to Morley, but he merely nodded. “You will be so surprised to note when a lord cannot have the attention he seeks, he will only up his efforts to win her favor. The more difficult a woman is to woo, the harder a man will work.”

  She considered him and then nodded. “I find some of this very tedious.”

  His laugh carried to those around them. “So soon?”

  But when he saw she was the utmost serious, he amen
ded his expression. “I, too, find it tedious. I much prefer the honest and open declarations between two people.”

  They joined a line of guests, and he startled. “I have not been paying attention. Are your sisters dancing?”

  “Oh, Lord Morley. You have taken on a large task indeed. They are dancing—all but Charity, who is in the corner in a heated discussion, no doubt about the merits of the war against Napoleon.”

  Morley followed her gaze, and sure enough, Miss Charity had collected quite a circle of men, all intent on her words.

  “I’ve never seen the like.”

  “I’m not surprised, for you’ve never seen Charity. The man she marries will be of a different sort, I’m certain.”

  “Or the very powerful sort. Only someone of great stature or confidence could rise to be her equal.”

  Miss Standish grew quiet, so he returned his gaze to find her openly appreciative. “You are everything this family needs. Thank you again for your great kindness.”

  “I do not do all these things simply for kindness’s sake.”

  “You don’t?” Her eyes smiled at him.

  The music started, and they were presenting to each other and to their opposites. He cursed the dance he had at first so strongly desired. For he wished to tell Miss Standish exactly why he was assisting her and her sisters, and his reasons had very little to do with the winning of his game of cards.

  But he smiled and went through the motions, not holding Miss Standish’s hands nearly long enough as they passed each other in the set.

  When it was over, he almost offered to go for a walk, but Lord Smallwood arrived and took her from him to the maddening sounds of the waltz.

  Lucy stood at his side.

  He reached out a hand. “Would you care to dance?”

  “Yes, I could only dance the waltz with you at this point.”

  “Very good. I shall keep it simple and easy.”

  “And as you are most interested in my sister, I won’t have to worry you might attempt something improper.”

  He coughed. “Certainly not. And how do you know anything about me being most interested in the lovely Miss Standish?”

  “We all know it. For why else would you show such interest? Why would you help with the castle, pay for so many things, offer your carriage?” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “You are planning to court her, are you not?”

  He was completely unsettled for many reasons, the first of which being he began to understand the consequences of not explaining to the sisters he was, in fact, their benefactor. It gave rise to some sudden misunderstandings between them.

  The second thing he wished to do was to affirm her assumption his interests in Miss Standish were very much of the romantic sort. But the other thing which must be known was she clearly was not as interested in him. And so the topic should not be broached in so open a manner.

  But as they concentrated on dancing the waltz, he couldn’t say any of the things required to be said. He didn’t know how to begin.

  “I shall have a conversation with all of you sisters tomorrow when I come to call, how does that sound?”

  Her small smile looked a little too victorious, but she nodded and said, “I shall be anxious to receive your call.”

  When their dance completed, he asked Miss Kate, and then Miss Charity, who was loathe to leave her conversation—and the men were loathe to lose her.

  “Come now, you must dance.”

  “Why must I dance?” She curtsied in front of him, and he bowed.

  “Because we are not simply here for you to have enlivening conversation.” He narrowed his eyes. “What were you discussing?”

  “All manner of things. Most of them are Tories and therefore daft.”

  “Miss Charity, you cannot speak so.”

  “Are you a Torie, then, as well?”

  “I am not.”

  Her face lit. “I’m so happy to hear it. Then you will appreciate we cannot possibly be taxing the poor in increasing amounts and expect them not to starve.”

  “Miss Charity, have you read any good poetry lately?”

  “Poetry?” She frowned. “Oh, as in my lessons with June?” She sighed. “Yes, I’ve been reading sonnets.”

  Relieved to have found a safer subject, he nodded with encouragement. “And do you have a favorite?”

  She humored him and talked of niceties for the remainder of the dance. But after she curtsied to him, she hurried back to her corner of the room.

  Morley was in desperate need of some feminine help for these ladies.

  “You have your hands full, Morley.” Her velvet voice itched on his skin, but he was relieved to hear it nonetheless.

  “Annabelle. Lady Annabelle.” He bowed over the hand of an old childhood friend.

  “Oh, we needn’t be so formal.” Her blonde hair was piled high on her head, her dress fit snugly about her waist, and her smile was as lovely and as broad as ever.

  “It’s good to see you. I didn’t know you were here in Brighton.” He hadn’t seen her in months, when he’d stepped away from her due to her misunderstanding of possible romantic inclinations on his part. He had hoped to sever ties completely and stem off any gossip that might start or speculation that might arise.

  “I had to come. It’s all over the ton what you are doing for the Sisters of Sussex. Tell me, Morley, did you really win them in a game of cards?”

  Music for another waltz began, so he bowed. “Dance with me?”

  Her eyes widened, but then she smiled. “Of course.”

  He led her out to the floor. “How much is the news being tossed around—that I won them in a game of cards?”

  She studied him. “I heard it from Lord Smallwood, but he seems totally enamored with the eldest.”

  “It’s not something I’d like repeated, for their sake.”

  She tipped her head. “Do you feel some sort of protective care over them? As if they are wards or something?”

  “I believe I do. I inherited their property. You can’t just kick out a family of women. And the duke provided plenty of money to get them started. I’d like to do well by them.”

  “Most people would keep them in their cottage, send them an allowance, and be done with them. Do you really think the ton will accept them back as equals after they’ve been nearly destitute for so long?”

  The music paused, and the Master of Ceremonies announced, “Her Grace, the Duchess of York.”

  Then the music started back up, but the duchess went straight to Miss Standish and kissed her cheeks.

  “I think they have connections enough. You know they are distant relatives of the royal household?”

  She sighed. “You have a personal interest in this situation.”

  “I—” He looked away, regretting ever asking her to dance. “I don’t know what I have, except mostly a sense of responsibility to see them in good situations. Whatever you can do to help by limiting gossip would be most appreciated.”

  She studied him. “Word has spread already. If others talk, it won’t be my doing.”

  His heart sank. If people were talking, word would get back to the sisters. The Standishes were all engaged in pleasant diversions, as far as he could tell. Lord Smallwood was waiting off the ballroom floor while Miss Standish danced with another—an older, widowed gentlemen with three children. Charity was dancing. He was pleased to see it, and by the slight blush to her face, she might be as well. He chuckled. Lucy was dancing with the son of a Marquess. Yes, her sights were high. And he was a decent enough chap, if not a bit boring. And Kate…his gaze flitted about the room, looking for Kate. She was dancing as well, but with Weatherby.

  “Have you accounted for all your chicks?” Lady Annabelle’s eyebrow rose. “Really, Morley, I never took you for the mother hen type.”

  “I need your assistance.”

  “And why would I give it?” Her lips pressed together in a thin line.

  “I know things didn’t progress between us, but
have compassion. A man cannot do this all by himself.”

  “I think they are very much in hand with Miss Standish at the helm, are they not? With elevated friendship from more than one duchess? Where is the Duke of Granbury? He and his wife will come assist, will they not?”

  “I don’t know. I shall write directly.” If Lady Annabelle couldn’t be persuaded to assist, he would find another. His first plan would be to tell the sisters exactly what his role was in their lives.

  The set came to a close, and he led Lady Annabelle off the floor.

  Before he could turn to find the sisters, Miss Standish approached with fire in her face. “How could you?” Tears welled in her eyes before she turned away. “We’re going home with Lord Smallwood.”

  Morley held the side of his cheek with one hand, while Smallwood’s smirk ignited his irritation.

  “Wait.”

  She stopped.

  “Just like that?” They were attracting all kinds of unwanted attention. He considered their reputation and said, “Could we converse, please? With your sisters?”

  She shook her head. “Come calling at the cottage. That is where you will find us.”

  “What? That’s just asking to be uncomfortable.”

  “I have nothing more to say to you.” She lifted her chin. “Goodbye.” Then she turned from him.

  Lady Annabelle’s face filled with amusement. Most everyone else refused to meet his gaze. He went to glower in the corner.

  He couldn’t leave—not until he knew the women were home safely. Would Smallwood get them home? Yes. But he still couldn’t just leave them without his added eye at the assembly.

  He leaned back against the wall and considered his mess of a life more trying than any of his acquaintance. And he had only Gerald to blame for it—and himself. He could have simply told the women upon their first acquaintance. He hadn’t kept the knowledge from them, precisely, but he’d enjoyed their pleased surprise when they thought he was paying a social call. He’d been astonished at how much he’d enjoyed the idea of simply expressing an interest in a woman. But in truth, he wouldn’t have done so had he not felt a responsibility toward them.

 

‹ Prev