What frustrated him was even though they’d been intimate, and she had been completely and enthusiastically engaged with their lovemaking, she still held him at arm’s length. No other woman had been so difficult to pursue. Why should the one woman he wanted forever be so challenging?
It might have started off as a joke, a way to bring out Suzanna’s competitiveness, but he intended to win their wager. He was used to winning. In all his life, losing had never been considered.
…
That evening, Suzanna descended the steps, clutching her skirts while trying not to wrinkle them. Her dance slippers were just that—slippery. Her final glance in the mirror assured her she looked just fine. The pale green gown with a white lace overskirt was one of her favorites. The neckline dipped nicely, showcasing the emerald necklace Father had given her when she had turned one and twenty.
She was looking forward to seeing Giles at the ball, but at the same time, her stomach knotted at the thought of Mother watching her every move, examining every gentleman who approached and danced with her.
Mother would not be pleased to know she had promised the supper waltz to Giles, even though she had teased him about arriving early at the ball to secure his spot. She needed to speak with him in private, if for no other reason than to assure herself he did not think her a wanton after what had happened between them in the folly.
There was absolutely nothing else in her life to compare to how his intimate touches had affected her.
Mother and Father stood chatting with Lord and Lady Montford in the entrance hall. They all turned in her direction as she approached, leaving her feeling like an animal on display in a zoo.
“There you are, my dear. I was about to send someone up to get you.” Mother viewed her with studied eyes, then smiled, the familiar mien from Suzanna’s youth. Not a warm look, but a smile that did not quite make it to her eyes. Suzanna had often thought it made her mother appear as if she were a marionette, with strings attached.
“Yes, I am ready. Shall we go?”
Lord Montford took his wife’s arm, and Suzanna’s father extended both of his elbows for her and her mother.
It was not a common event for Lord Montford to attend these affairs, not being a fan of Society, but the Everson girl who was making her coming-out this evening was his niece and goddaughter. They made their way down the steps and into the carriage. With them all squished together, Suzanna was already feeling lightheaded.
Part of her unease came from worrying how Mother would view Giles’s attention to her. He had no idea it was her mother who demanded a title for Suzanna. She should probably tell him but, knowing Giles as well as she had come to know him, he would most likely dismiss that news with indifference, assuming Mother was not the force she was.
Suzanna could not remember a time in her life when she did not feel the weight of her mother’s thumb. Every decision affecting Suzanna’s life had been made by Mother. Down to the selection of her undergarments. Suzanna read no books not approved by Mother, sent and received no correspondence that was not first presented to her mother, and any minor rebellion—such as her breeches—had been quickly and severely dealt with.
Mother had to have been deathly ill to allow Suzanna to travel to London for the Season without her, and she was still astounded that it had actually happened. As guilty as it made her feel, the refreshing sense of freedom with Mother ill had been heady.
However, if Mother got wind of Giles’s interest, Suzanna would find herself betrothed to the first titled man Mother set her eyes on, even if she had to put them into a compromising situation to accomplish it. Her mother was no different from the other marriage-minded mamas of the ton who wanted the best match for their daughters, regardless of how it came about.
Stilted silence filled the carriage on the ride to the ball. The clopping of the horses’ hooves and the turning of the wheels went from monotonous to soothing, helping Suzanna calm herself before they arrived at the ball.
Thinking back, Suzanna realized that Cousin Eunice had never expressed an opinion on her mother, but after the short time they’d all spent together, it appeared the women were not exactly friends.
“Daughter, I would like a word with you once we arrive at the Everson townhouse.” Mother pulled her shawl around her shoulders, avoiding Suzanna’s eyes.
Oh Lord, now what? Of course, there would be the usual reminder to be aware of her reputation, to not encourage any man who did not have a title, and to encourage any man with a title who showed interest in her. Regardless of his age, size, demeanor, and odor. She was to encourage them all.
She used her finger to push the window curtain aside to see how close they were to their destination. She had to get out of this carriage before she suffocated.
“Suzanna! Do not stare out the window like a fishmonger’s wife.” Mother shifted in her seat and looked at her father. “It is a good thing I have arrived to take your daughter in hand. Heaven knows what she has been allowed to do.”
Cousin Eunice sucked in a breath. Suzanna hated that Mother made it sound as though Cousin Eunice had not been a good enough chaperone. She loved her cousin and thought her the most kind and thoughtful person she knew. Lord Montford cast Mother a disdainful look, most likely assuming from her words what Suzanna had surmised.
Finally, the carriage slowed to a stop, and they all gathered their belongings as the door opened and a footman lowered the steps. Lord Montford exited first, turning to take Cousin Eunice’s hand. Father was next, helping Mother down, and then reaching out to Suzanna.
She had taken no more than a few steps when Mother placed her hand on her arm. “Walk with me, dear.”
Reconciled to a lecture, Suzanna nodded and linked her arm with her mother’s. “’Tis a lovely night, is it not, Mother?”
“Never mind that, Suzanna. You have been avoiding me since I arrived.”
Yes, Suzanna had been avoiding her mother, and it had taken some maneuvering to do so. She knew eventually she would have to face this lecture. “No, I haven’t, Mother. I have just been busy, and you know you need to lie down in the afternoon while you are still recovering from your ague.”
“Nonsense. I feel perfectly fine. Furthermore, I know why you have avoided me.”
Her stomach clenched, but she raised her chin, ready for the assault. “And why is that, Mother?”
“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady. I am your mother, and I always have your best interests at heart. Remember that.”
“Yes, Mother.” She tried not to sigh, but she didn’t succeed.
“It has come to my attention, even all the way out in the country, that you have been seen a great many times in the company of Lord Wexford’s boy.”
“Mother, Mr. Templeton is hardly a boy. He is nine and twenty years.”
“He is unsuitable. I suggest you drop whatever fancy it is you imagine you have for the man and concentrate on someone of whom your father will approve.”
“My father?”
“Yes. Your father and I agree about your future and the man who is best suited for you.”
“You mean someone with a title,” Suzanna said through her clenched teeth.
“Of course.” Mother turned and regarded her as they reached the top of the stairs, ready to be announced. She fussed with her daughter’s neckline, looking directly into her eyes. “Do not disappoint me in this, Suzanna.”
…
Giles had been at the Eversons’ ball for more than an hour, and he’d yet to speak with Suzanna. Her mother was attached to her side so securely that it was a wonder the two women could even walk. The only time Suzanna left her side was when she danced. Her mother kept a close eye on every gentleman who approached, and either nodded, or gave her head a slight shake at Suzanna. Since it would have been unmannerly to refuse one man and accept another, she had been forced to pass on a few dances.
He was growing frustrated. Each time he attempted to approach her, her mother either dragged her off
to speak with someone or they disappeared completely into the crowd. He wasn’t sure what game they were playing, but he intended to have the supper waltz with Suzanna as promised.
When the time approached, and the orchestra was announcing the supper waltz, he wended his way behind Mrs. Blake and Suzanna, who were engaged in a conversation with Lord Ambrose. An older man with four children—pot-bellied, bad teeth, and each year with increasingly less hair, it was well-known he was desperate for a wife.
Giles clasped Suzanna’s elbow from behind, drawing a gasp from her mother. Suzanna turned to him and smiled. “Good evening, Mr. Templeton.”
“I believe this is my dance.” He looked across the small space at her mother, his eyes daring her to object. Mrs. Blake was, if nothing else, aware of propriety in public.
Suzanna’s mother raised her chin and glared back at him. “I believe Lord Ambrose asked for this dance, Mr. Templeton.”
To his credit, Ambrose looked confused for a moment, and then bowed in Suzanna’s direction. “Yes. I had intended to request this dance, but I will not usurp Mr. Templeton if he had a prior request.”
Giles bowed in the man’s direction and whisked Suzanna away before Mrs. Blake opened her mouth to speak. He clutched Suzanna’s hand and made his way through the throng to the dance area.
The music had just started as he swung Suzanna into his arms. “You have been quite the elusive woman tonight.”
Suzanna gave him a slight smile. “Mother can be a bit aggressive when it comes to making a match for me.”
“So that answers my question about her behavior.” He turned them in a quick maneuver. “Have you told her you already had an offer?”
Suzanna glanced away from him, suddenly very interested in Lady Muriel waltzing alongside them with Mr. Graves. “No.”
Giles dipped his head to see her face. “Why not?”
“It was not a proper offer. You simply stated that due to—circumstances—we should marry. You never proposed.”
“Ah. So, if I dropped to my knees right here on the dance floor, took your hand in mine, and begged for the honor of marrying you, that would be sufficient for you to allow me to approach your father?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her lips quirked, and then she laughed.
He smiled back. She looked absolutely adorable, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her right there on the dance floor. “Now that your parents are here in Town, I want to make this all very respectable and visit with your father in the morning, to make my intentions known.”
She shook her head vigorously “No. Don’t.” Her eyes grew wide, and she paled.
“Sweeting, what’s wrong?” He pulled her closer, loving the way her body gently brushed his.
“Where is my mother? Can you see her?”
Giles looked around the room, his eyes finally settling on Mrs. Blake. “Yes. She is watching us.”
Suzanna sighed. “Then we can’t take a walk outside.”
“We will stay within sight of the others. The patio is well lit.”
She groaned and looked down at their feet. Whatever was wrong, it appeared to have her tied into knots. “Tell me what’s troubling you, sweetheart.”
They continued their dance as he studied her, while she avoided his eyes. Finally, she raised her chin and looked directly at him. “I have told you from the start that I was interested only in marrying a man with a title.”
He pulled her a bit closer and bent so he could speak into her ear. “And I wagered you that you would fall in love with me. And marry me.”
She pushed back. “I must tell you that your pursuit will not end where you hope it will.”
“And why is that, Miss Blake? If you are going to attempt to tell me you have no interest in me, that I don’t affect you the way you affect me, I will commit the faux pas of calling you a liar.”
The bright flush that rose from the creamy skin above her décolletage and continued until her entire face was flooded, told him she was remembering their time in the folly. A rendezvous he would love to repeat, to show her how pleasurable their marriage bed could be.
“I wish I could tell you that was untrue, but the crux of the matter is, I am not the one who desires a title.” She hesitated and took deep breath. “My mother does.”
He studied her for a minute. “Your mother is already married.”
“This is not a joke, Giles.”
“Ah, you finally use my name, when you’re attempting to tell me I shall lose our wager.”
She nodded and bit her bottom lip. “Father will not permit any gentlemen to court me who doesn’t possess a title, because he will do nothing of which Mother disapproves.” She gazed at him, tears standing in her eyes. “So, you see, from the very first I knew you would not prevail, and that you would lose the wager.”
“Perhaps not.”
“You don’t understand. I told you—”
He held up his hand. “If you recall, Miss Blake, there were two parts to our wager. I also challenged you to fall in love with me.” He gazed into her tortured eyes. “Are you telling me I lost that wager, as well?”
Chapter Fourteen
Are you telling me I lost that wager, as well?
“It matters not. Mother wants a man with a title for me, and, like you, what Mother wants, Mother gets.”
Her answer to Giles’s question played repeatedly in her mind as she tossed and turned in her bed that night. He was determined, and so was her mother. He was confident, so was she. He never lost, neither did Mother. She felt as though she were being pulled apart like a piece of taffy.
Of course, she hadn’t been able to answer him because a yes, you lost the part of the wager that I would fall in love with you, would be a lie, and a no, you did not lose would have been a disaster. She’d admitted to herself during the house party what she felt for him. It was the reason she’d allowed him to make love to her.
Thankfully, the dance had ended shortly after he’d asked his question, and her mother was right at her elbow, whisking her away to eat supper with her and Lord Ambrose.
Father had taken to the card room the minute they’d entered the ballroom, and Mother had spent her time watching Suzanna like a hawk, and had subtly, but firmly, brushed off those gentlemen who’d approached her who were not suitable. No title.
Blast it all to hell!
She cringed at thinking those words, even if only in her mind, but she was tired of hearing about the benefits of marrying a lord. If Mother was so enamored of titles, she should have held out for one herself. It was exceedingly unfair of Mother to expect Suzanna to follow her dreams. Was she not entitled to her own?
Love had always been a fond wish for her marriage. Nothing appealed to her more than a man who was besotted with her. And she with him. And children who were the product of that love, not born as a duty to merely secure a title.
What had Mother found so horrible about being married to Father? It was apparent he adored his wife and allowed her free rein over his life and their daughter’s.
Mother had held her tongue on the return ride to Lord Montford’s home. However, once they’d arrived back and ascended the stairs, she glared at Suzanna and ordered her to attend her immediately. With a great deal of trepidation, Suzanna followed her mother down the corridor until they reached the room her parents had been assigned.
Father had elected to join Lord Montford in the drawing room for a brandy, and Lady Montford had retired to her bedchamber, casting Suzanna a sympathetic glance.
Mother didn’t waste any time. The minute the door was closed, she rounded on her and went on the attack. “Young lady, the reason I rose from my sick bed to travel all the way to London is because of the rumors that reached me about you and this Templeton fellow.”
It always amazed Suzanna how her mother seemed to know absolutely everything, even though she’d been buried in the country. “I have no idea what you mean, Mother. Mr. Templeton is merely a man I’ve met this Season, initially becaus
e he attended Patience’s wedding. He is a close friend of the duke, and that is how I became acquainted with him.”
Perhaps Giles’s highborn connections would sway her mother. However, as Mother pulled the feathers from her head with enough vengeance to rip her hair from its roots, she snarled, “Don’t play false with me. I heard the two of you were quite cozy at the house party you both attended recently.”
Suzanna held her breath, hoping one of the messages Mother had received did not include their foray into the folly or the disaster of her walk in the woods. But that was impossible, since there hadn’t been enough time between the end of the party and Mother’s arrival for her to receive that news via a letter. The talk of them at the house party must have been something Mother had learned at the Eversons’ ball this evening.
Had she been questioning people? A mortifying thought, that.
“I will allow no dallying with Mr. Templeton. Do I make myself clear?” The pins flew from her head as she let her hair down.
The little girl who had always done what Mother said rebelled. She was a woman grown, and she had the right to her own opinions. “Mother, I don’t understand this need to marry a man with a title. I would think you would want happiness for your daughter.”
Mother leaned in and pointed her finger at her. “You will find a great deal of happiness as a secure member of the ton. As a nobleman’s wife, all doors will be open to you.”
Holding her ground, Suzanna crossed her arms over her chest. Maybe it was being away from Mother this Season, but she did not want to capitulate to her mother’s wishes. Especially on this matter that would affect her entire life. “All doors are open to you, and you’re not a nobleman’s wife.”
Mother sniffed. “I have never been held to the same level of esteem as my sisters. They both married titles, and by the time Father got to me, he was merely anxious to see me off, and didn’t care if my husband had a title or no.”
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