The Betting Season (A Regency Season Book)

by Knight-Catania, Jerrica

  “My maid has a sister who works in the household next door to—”

  “Spare me the details about how you know where Lady Moira will be, but this venue will not do.”

  “It must. You promised.”

  Damn it. He had. Gideon scowled. Lydell would owe him for this for the rest of his miserable years. “Very well.”

  Moira rushed to the entrance of Hyde Park, Beatrice trailing behind her. Oh, she hoped Pippa had waited for her. Her departure had been delayed when Mother made Moira change clothing and insisted on her hair being rearranged. What did it matter? She was wearing a bonnet, which covered most of her head. Then her scarf was all wrong. Moira had adorned five different ones before her mother finally approved. All this fuss and bother over a simple stroll in the park. If a gentleman dismissed her on account of her scarf, then he wasn’t worth considering.

  Lady Philippa Casemore waited for Moira by the entry gate, her maid just a few feet away. “I am so sorry I am late,” Moira said as she linked arms with her friend and headed toward Rotten Row.

  “It’s no bother,” Pippa insisted.

  Moira cast a sidelong glance at her friend. Pippa looked rather pale this afternoon. “Are you feeling well?”

  “Better than this morning.”

  “Oh dear. Probably from too much fun at the Heathfields’ last evening.”

  Pippa only offered a weak smile. Perhaps it hadn’t been as enjoyable as Moira had imagined. She would find out soon enough, but first she needed to get her friend’s advice. “I have something to tell you, but you cannot tell anyone else.”

  Pippa leaned her head closer to Moira’s. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

  And thank heavens for it. The two had been so close the last few years at the Broadmoor Academy. Moira didn’t know what she’d have done without her dear friends, the only other souls who knew how desperately Moira needed to escape her mother. “I made an innocent comment to Alvina last evening that was somehow overheard. Now my name is in the White’s betting book. Mother is going to have an apoplexy when she learns of it.”

  Pippa’s eyes widened in surprise. She started to speak, but Moira cut her off, afraid of being censured by her level-headed friend.

  “I plan to make it work to my advantage, however.”

  “Make it work to your advantage? Oh, Moira, how could you possibly do that?”

  “My name is now known in a rather important gentleman’s club. Given Mother whisked me away from the ball last evening after only an hour, this may be my only chance to be known.”

  “Oh, Moira—”

  But Moira cut her off once more. “Granted, it wasn’t my plan to have all of society know I am willing to compromise a gentleman to get what I want, but at least now suitable candidates will seek me out, and I can choose the best Scot for the position.”

  Pippa stopped and Moira turned to face her friend. “You think it’s a horrible plan, I can tell. But, Pippa, you don’t understand what it’s like to live with my mother.”

  “It’s not that.” Pippa winced, and though it looked like she meant to say more, she only pursed her lips.

  “Then what is it?” Moira prodded.

  Pippa face fell even more. “Yours isn’t the only name in White’s betting book.”

  “It’s not?”

  A mirthless laugh escaped her friend. “Apparently I am to be bedded by Lord St. Austell before the Season is out.”

  The devilish rake her mother had warned her from? And Pippa? Moira didn’t try to hide her amusement. “I’m sure there are worse fates.”

  Pippa’s mouth fell open. “You know him?”

  Only by sight. “No, but mother pointed him out to me last night with dire warnings.”

  “What does he look like?”

  “Why, we just passed him. He was with Lord Heathfield.” Moira turned around to find the scoundrel in question. “He was right over…” But Pippa was gone, almost as though she’d vanished in thin air. “Pippa!” Moira called. Good heavens, where did she run off to? They were to have tea with Patience Findley and Georgianna Bexley-Smythe after their walk.

  “That’s her? Lady Moira?” Gideon asked.

  “The very one,” Jordan answered with an unrepentant grin.

  Gideon studied the young woman whom Lydell would probably marry. The obnoxious bonnet shaded most of her head, but a few ringlets escaped. Red, the shade of sunrise. And, he could well understand why she used the parasol to shade her face from the sun. Such a pale complexion could burn in a matter of moments. I wonder if she has freckles. I’ve always been partial to them. High cheek bones and a delicate nose were a fine match to the thin, arched eyebrows and full lips. Had she applied cosmetics, or were they naturally red?

  Lydell would be quite pleased indeed. A fortune and a lovely face. What more could a man wish for? However, he knew his friend well enough that her shape, what Gideon could determine in the current fashion, was not Lydell’s preference. He liked slight ladies, narrow hips and smaller breasts. Lady Moira possessed none of those attributes. He wouldn’t exactly describe her as buxom, but she was far from lacking.

  “Ah, here is our chance for an introduction.”

  Gideon tore his eyes away from the lady and looked to his friend.

  Lord and Lady Hearne approached Lady Moira. “As we are all friends, here is your chance and maybe you can avoid the blasted Davenports’ this evening.”

  Hearne and his wife reached Lady Moira a few moments ahead of Gideon, but he could overhear their conversation.

  “Weren’t you supposed to be with Lady Philippa this afternoon?” Hearne inquired, a slight edge to his tone. Of course the man would be more protective than usual, given his sister’s sudden notoriety.

  “She was just here. I turned my back for only a moment and she disappeared.”

  “Mother will not be happy if she finds out you were here unaccompanied.”

  “Beatrice is with me.” Lady Moira pointed to a young maid standing but a few feet away in deep conversation with another servant.

  “I can see that Beatrice is doing her job in keeping a keen eye on you.”

  “Oh Nyle, it has only been for a few moments. I survived unscathed, I assure you.”

  “Good afternoon, Lord and Lady Hearne,” Gideon greeted as he finally reached his destination.

  The three turned to look at him and Jordan.

  “Ainsely.” Hearne stuck his hand out and shook it. The earl was not so warm in his greeting of Gideon’s companion, however. “Mr. Trent.”

  Odd. The two were friends. Why the coldness from Hearne? Perhaps the earl took issue with the appreciative way Jordan was looking at his sister. Actually, Gideon didn’t like it one bit either, now that he thought about it.

  “Have you met my sister, Lady Moira Kirkwood?”

  “I have not had the honor.” Jordan stepped forward, grasped the lady’s gloved hand, and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Mr. Jordan Trent at your service.”

  A blush formed on her cheeks as she drew back her hand. Jordan did have a way of making young women fancy him.

  “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Gideon executed a slight bow to the lovely young woman. Her grey eyes studied him. While she didn’t blush as she had under Jordan’s scrutiny, slight crinkles appeared around her eyes and a smile came to her lips. And there was a light smattering of freckles across her nose. A lovely face, indeed.

  “This is Lord Ainsely, since he seems to have forgotten his own name for the moment.”

  Gideon couldn’t believe he hadn’t actually introduced himself, even though Hearne should have done that for him in the first place, and probably would have it Jordan hadn’t absconded with the lady’s hand before anyone could get another word in.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you both.” She dipped into a quick curtsey.

  “Will either of you be attending the Davenports’ ball this evening,” Lady Hearne asked, probably to make conversation since an uncomfortable silen
ce had ensued.

  Jordan frowned. “I have other plans.”

  It had been Gideon’s intention to forgo the affair as well, having now accomplished his goal in meeting with Lady Moira, but now… “I plan on being present.”

  Jordan and Hearne both looked at him as if he were mad. Perhaps he was. Why else would he agree to attend the Davenports’ when there was no longer a reason?

  Moira shifted from one foot to the other. She’d promised Pippa to watch the door for Lord Colebrooke, but having never seen the gentleman, how would she know him if he walked in? Instead, she trained her eyes for St. Austell, so she could point him out to Pippa, so her friend could avoid that gentleman in the future. If only she could have stayed longer at the Heathfield ball last evening. Perhaps she could have saved her friend much embarrassment.

  She quickly glanced about the room and to where her mother was speaking with other ladies. Moira maneuvered herself to the side of her friends, directly out of her mother’s line of vision. Perhaps if she wasn’t seen, she would be forgotten and allowed to enjoy this ball. Not that she held out any hope. Last night had been a crush, and the Davenports’ ballroom was barely half-filled; most of the guests were young ladies and their chaperones. Where were the gentlemen tonight? Too busy placing stupid bets in stupid books?

  She focused back on the door and waited. “Perhaps he attended another function.”

  Patience smiled sadly. “This is hardly the event of the year.”

  “Hopefully we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” Georgianna Bexley-Smythe added.

  Moira couldn’t agree more. Having listened to the names announced, not one sounded remotely Scottish.

  Patience tugged Pippa’s arm, pulling her closer into their group of four. “What did happen last night?”

  Pippa shook her head. “I don’t remember a thing. I don’t even remember arriving at the Heathfields’. I don’t remember encountering Mr. Potsdon. I don’t remember St. Austell.”

  “He is quite handsome,” Moira offered. “Pity he’s not a Scot.”

  “So you said earlier, but I can’t believe he could even hold a candle to Lord Colebrook.”

  Moira focused back on the doors as two gentlemen appeared. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to hear their names announced, but she’d met one of them in the park earlier. His eyes scanned the room slowly, stopping when they found her. He nudged his friend and nodded in her direction so slightly that Moira would have missed it had she not been paying so close attention. The gentleman accompanying him narrowed his eyes and peered at her. Who was he and why were the two so interested in her?

  She turned her back and tried to focus on the conversation occurring between her friends, but his eyes burned into her back. Not the stranger, but Lord Ainsely. Now there was a gentleman who could make a girl’s heartbeat increase. While his friend, Mr. Jordan Trent was not without his charms, it was Ainsely's deep brown eyes that caused her heart to hitch earlier today. Goodness, the man was so tall, and from the looks of him strong, unless he padded his clothing as so many gentlemen were rumored to do.

  “Lord Brody McTavish.”

  Moira perked up at the announcement and wheeled around to see a gentleman standing in the door, and her heart sank instantly. He was all of five foot two, and almost as round, with a balding head.

  “There is your Scot.” Georgie nudged her.

  The man couldn’t be younger than fifty years. “This may be more difficult than I thought.”

  Too bad Ainsley wasn’t Scottish. He would do perfectly. Moira sighed and let go of that dream as her brother appeared at her side. “Mother is asking for you.”

  A groan escaped Moira. “Do I really have to go? Can’t you just stand here with me? That will take care of propriety.”

  A smile pulled at Nyle’s lips. “That would be my preference as well, but she is demanding that both of us be at her side.”

  Moira turned to her friends. “Sorry, I must go.”

  She crossed the vast ballroom floor and took a place by her mother.

  “I hear arsenic works,” her mother stated out of nowhere.

  “For what?” Moira was almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “Hair. We need to do something about that dreadful color.”

  Moira’s hand went to the back of her head. She rather liked her hair as it was. She’d inherited it from her grandmother, Fiona MacLachlan. At least that was how the woman had been known before marrying Moira’s grandfather.

  “It won’t do and is probably the very reason you have not received a voucher yet.”

  “Voucher?”

  Her mother turned to her and huffed. “To Almack’s. What other voucher is there?”

  Moira shrugged and glanced toward Nyle. His shoulders shook with silent laughter.

  “Ah, there is Lady Aldridge. I’ll be right back.”

  Moira relaxed when her mother finally moved away.

  Nyle leaned in and whispered, “You do know the real reason you won’t be receiving a voucher, don’t you?”

  “Oh, hush. I hadn’t considered that ramification of the silly bet.”

  “There is nothing silly about your name being in the book at White’s.” he hissed before glancing around. “Does Mother know?”

  That was Moira’s biggest fear, and she didn’t know how harsh a reaction the woman may have. “Not yet.”

  Gideon stood beside Lydell, sipping a glass of wine. Lady Moira was directly across from him, dressed in a lovely lavender gown, a few shades lighter than the heather that dotted the landscape back home. Her hair glowed like a burst of sunlight beneath the candles. She was a lovely lady indeed. And soon she would be Lydell’s.

  A pain stabbed his gut. Why should it bother him? It wasn’t as if he even knew the chit. Her brains could be nothing but mush. While she may fill out the gown to his preferred specifications, she could easily bore him into madness. He would much rather have a plain, thin, interesting wife than a buxom, beautiful featherbrain for those weeks they could be trapped together at the estate.

  “She is rather pretty, I suppose,” Lydell muttered. “But she is more endowed than I prefer.”

  “Whereas her dowry is the perfect size,” Gideon reminded his friend quietly.

  “There is that.” Lydell heaved a sigh. “I suppose we should go over so you can make the introductions.”

  As much as he wished to speak with Lady Moira again, Gideon didn’t relish introducing her to Lydell so his friend could waltz away with her.

  He placed his glass on the empty tray as the waiter passed and stood his tallest. The two men took their time in walking the perimeter of the room instead of straight across. Gideon didn’t want to make his destination obvious, especially with Lydell by his side. By now every gentleman in the room probably knew about that blasted bet, and he didn’t want to draw any additional attention.

  They paused to speak with acquaintances, meet daughters, and sign dance cards as they went. Gideon hated this part of the evening because he could never remember who he was to dance with and when. Why couldn’t gentlemen have similar cards? It would make the whole evening less confusing and potentially less embarrassing.

  Eventually they arrived and stood before Lady Moira, Hearne, and their mother.

  “Ainsely, you met my sister earlier in the park today.”

  He bowed toward her. “You look lovely this evening, Lady Moira.”

  That same secret smile came to her lips. What he wouldn’t give to know what she was thinking about.

  “May I introduce my good friend, Lord Lydell?”

  Lady Moira’s eyes widened at the name. Surely, she didn’t know about the bet, or did she? Maybe Hearne had warned her.

  “Such an honor, Lord Lydell and Lord Ainsely.” the dowager Lady Hearne gushed. “I don’t remember that we have met previously.”

  Apparently the girl’s mother wasn’t aware of the wager, because Gideon was fairly certain she would not be particularly welcoming, especially to Lydell.<
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  “No, I don’t believe we have,” Lydell answered. “Had I known you had such a lovely daughter I would have rectified the matter much sooner.”

  “Oh, do go on.”

  Please, don’t.

  “Would you care for a turn about the room, Lady Moira?” Lydell offered his arm.

  “That would be lovely, thank you.”

  Hearne reached out and put a hand on Lydell’s shoulder. “Stay close.” The warning was at the edge of the man’s voice and in the narrowing of his eyes.

  “Yes, and don’t be gone long. The dancing will begin shortly,” the dowager countess called after them.

  Gideon watched the two stroll away, and Hearne leaned in. “If anything happens to my sister, I will hold you personally responsible.”

  Gideon turned away from Hearne, keeping an eye on the two as they traversed the ballroom. “He simply wanted an introduction. It is up to Lydell to woo her.”

  Lydell and Lady Moira stopped beside a long window.

  Gideon wasn’t the only one watching the two of them. In fact, several more interested eyes focused on the pair. An open door leading to the gardens below was but a few feet away. Would Lady Moira take Lydell outside and make both Mr. Fiske and the Marquess of Lydell richer for having done so?

  Moira stopped just short of the doors leading outside. She and Lord Lydell had dispensed with all pleasantries during their short partial circuit of the ballroom, but she would not take another step until she had answers.

  “It is a lovely evening outside.” Lydell nodded toward the door. “Would you care for a stroll in the gardens?”

  Moira studied him for a moment. “You approached me because of that bet, did you not?”

  The man flushed a bit. “We shouldn’t discuss such a subject so blatantly in polite company.”

  “I would have honesty and frankness, Lord Lydell.”