The Earl's Wager

by Rebecca Thomas

  “No, I…” She peered into his eyes and realized he was very serious. As though there was no discussion whatsoever, he pulled on his boots. “I’m not going to marry you.”

  He stood. “Georgia, of course we’ll marry. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “I don’t want you to marry me because it’s the right thing to do. I have plans to marry someone eventually so I can have access to my inheritance, but it isn’t you.”

  Though she had wanted to know a man’s body, this wasn’t how everything was supposed to play out. While she couldn’t quite imagine her life without Will in it, neither could she imagine a life with a husband who only wanted to marry her because he’d taken her virginity.

  “You’re mine now. I’ve ruined you.” His expression was unreadable. She’d seen him angry earlier in the evening, but this was something else entirely. “Don’t you see?”

  “My future husband doesn’t need to know I’m ruined. Not unless you intend to tell him. Besides, I hate that word. It makes no sense.”

  “What word?”

  “Ruined. I’m not ruined. I’m merely a woman who’s had sexual relations. It doesn’t make me ruined.”

  “In England, it’s the way we say things.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  He gave a curt nod. “It’s fine not to like it. And I can’t say I disagree with you. But regardless, men know things. They will know if you’re a virgin in the marriage bed or not.”

  “I don’t believe that. Not now that I understand the mechanics. Besides, maybe I’ll be honest and tell him. Regardless, it’s not for you to worry about.”

  He vehemently shook his head. “The mechanics?”

  “Well, yes.” Maybe she sounded unintelligent about the whole thing, but she didn’t have time to discuss it—she had to get the stain cleaned from her dress before it set in. She couldn’t have Eloise discovering it.

  “Thank you for making love to me, Will.” He had to understand there could be nothing else between them. It hurt her to say it, but it had to be said. “I appreciate the time you took being gentle with me, but I’m not marrying you. You can’t force me.”

  The muscles of his jaw flexed, his mouth set in a tediously straight line. “You might be unaware of some British customs, but not marrying me isn’t an option. You could be pregnant with my child.”

  She hadn’t thought of that. He was right on that count, but for now she’d take her chances. Maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly. “I must go to my room.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said flatly.

  “Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow,” she countered. “But don’t say anything to Oliver.”

  “As you wish, my lady.” He bowed and left the room.

  He’d never called her a lady until this moment.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Will had to make Georgia understand reason. Last night she’d been irrational when she said she wouldn’t marry him. Women said rash, inexplicable things that made no sense sometimes—he’d seen it plenty with his sister. He just needed to remember that.

  All would be well. She merely needed rest. By the time he’d returned to Black Pine Hall, then back to Autumn Ridge, he’d had barely any sleep at all. But his concerns were with Georgia—it wasn’t every day a woman’s virginity got taken by someone other than her husband. The new day would shed light on their arrangement.

  He paced across the parlor and back again. Any noise he heard caused him to look up, expecting to see her. He’d told the butler thirty minutes ago to advise her he was here, but still he waited.

  He’d made a grave mistake and shouldn’t have taken her maidenhead. Of course he knew that now, but at the time, he just couldn’t… Things had just gotten out of hand. He hadn’t been thinking. Granted, she wasn’t the most ideal bride, but he’d made a choice when he’d had sexual relations with her. Therefore, the course for his life had been set.

  There was no going back now.

  The door opened. Oliver walked in and nodded. “Grandleigh.”

  Will carefully examined his face for any sign that Georgia may have told him what had transpired between them last night. But the last thing she’d said was for him not to tell her cousin. What if her maid suspected, or the butler? They had been locked in the drawing room a long time. Good lord, he was becoming paranoid.

  If Oliver hauled off and slugged him, Will certainly wouldn’t blame him, and then his questions would be answered.

  “I assume the party went well?” Oliver inquired. “Any possible matches for Georgia?”

  Momentarily stunned by the question, Will wasn’t certain how to respond. Yes, she had a match—and it was him.

  How was he supposed to explain that to Oliver without telling him what he’d done? What was so wrong, so very wrong, but at the time he just…he just couldn’t… He was a cad. A complete and utter scoundrel of the worst kind. God would surely strike him down for his transgressions.

  “Will, is everything all right? It’s not like you to be so quiet.” Oliver approached him. “In fact, you don’t look well.”

  The man’s fists weren’t swinging at his head, so that was a good sign. “I’m fine.”

  “Georgia didn’t make a spectacle of herself, did she? I don’t see how, because—”

  “No, not at all. The party was a great success, I believe.” Not wanting this conversation to continue, Will strode to the door and glanced into the foyer; he needed to speak with Georgia. Desperately. “But where is she?”

  “Did you have plans for lessons this morning?”

  “No, we usually meet in the afternoons, but—”

  “The party must have gone well, since she had a caller this morning. Granted, he’s not the most ideal match in my opinion, but—”

  “She had a caller?” Will’s gut churned. A sick feeling overcame him. He stared at Oliver.

  “Well, yes. The Earl of Leighton. They’re out riding now.”

  Will gaped at him, his throat so dry he couldn’t even swallow.

  “That was my reaction as well. He’s not got the best reputation, but Georgia insisted it was just a short carriage ride to his estate. She wanted to see one of his racehorses.” Oliver strolled to the bay window. “I decided she can handle herself. Where there is one suitor, there will be more.”

  Will turned and looked out the window, hoping for a glimpse of the carriage—he must have just missed them. Rage seethed into his core, but he refused to let Oliver see how angry he was.

  “Are you surprised?” Oliver inquired. “Is there anything about last evening I should know? The countryside tenants are quick in spreading gossip. If there’s some kind of scandal brewing, I’ve not heard anything.”

  “No. There’s no scandal that I know of.” Will couldn’t make eye contact with Oliver. A change of subject might be his only option. “How’s Arabella?”

  “She’s resting, but I know she’d love a visitor. She must be tired of only talking to Millie and me.” Oliver gestured toward the staircase. “You should go see her. She’d be delighted.”

  Yes. Visiting his sister was the perfect distraction until Georgia returned. He made his way up the stairs, taking each step one at a time, getting more and more angry when he thought of her with Leighton.

  Once he arrived at his sister’s bedchamber door, he took a few minutes to collect himself. About to knock, he hesitated. He should ride after Georgia. But would that be the best way to handle things? Certainly he was too furious to face her just now, but being incensed in his sister’s presence wasn’t ideal either. She was supposed to be resting, not worrying about his agitated state.

  Surely, he was overthinking this. He knocked on her door before he could change his mind.

  “Come in,” she called.

  He entered Arabella’s bedchamber. A pillow was propped over her enlarged abdomen with a book on top. She immediately looked up.

  “Will! You don’t visit me often enough. I know you’ve been busy with Georgia, but still—I
want to see you more.”

  “I promise I’ll be better.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Nice to see you looking so well.”

  “You are only saying that to please me, but thank you for saying so.” She set the book aside. “I can tell you’re troubled. You have that look. With an extra crease between your brows.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. All is well.” Careful not to jostle her legs, he sat on the edge of the bed. “How is my niece or nephew doing?”

  “Still growing. Not much longer now. The doctor said she could come anytime.”

  “She?”

  “Yes. I just have a feeling she’s a girl.” Her face turned serious. “What do you think of naming her after Mother?”

  A lump formed in Will’s throat. “What does Oliver think?”

  “He says I can choose the name, as long as it isn’t Oliver. But I already know it’s a girl, so that won’t be an issue. Unless… Do you think I should name her Olive?”

  A smile tugged at his mouth. “I think if Oliver said no to Oliver, then he would say no to Olive as well.”

  Arabella smiled. “I suppose you’re right. Then”—she reached out to touch his forearm—“Margaret is all right with you?”

  He cleared his throat and nodded. “Of course. It’s a lovely name.”

  “I didn’t wish to make you sad. I want the name to bring you happiness, not sorrow.”

  “Any child of yours will bring me greater joy than I’m sure I can even imagine.”

  She clasped her hands together. “Tell me about the party last night. I can only imagine the excitement surrounding Georgia. She looked so lovely in that blue muslin dress. I’m envious and hopeful that I’ll be able to fit into my dresses again soon.”

  “Of course you will, and yes, she caught the eye of several eligible bachelors.” The words stuck in his throat, but he continued, “Her dance card was completely full.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me a bit,” she said wistfully. “They were probably lining up to speak with her, too. She’s so genuine. Speaks her mind. Georgia is quite special, don’t you agree?”

  The words were so direct and true. He swallowed hard. “Yes, yes, she is.”

  “I wish I could have been there. I wish Oliver would have gone as well, but he refuses to leave the house.” She scrutinized Will and extended her hand. “Are you certain everything is all right?”

  “I’m quite certain.” He didn’t hold her gaze. She knew him too well and would discern he was being less than honest.

  “I think I know why you’re upset. It’s because Georgia went for a ride with Lord Leighton, isn’t it?”

  He stood and clenched his hands at his sides, lest he hurl something across the room. “I can’t believe Marsdale allowed it.”

  “I told Oliver it would be fine. He’s got racehorses, you know. And he isn’t interested in getting married anyway.”

  “Why would he take her for a carriage ride if he wasn’t interested?” Will bit off angrily. “Leighton is a rake! For all we know, he’s abducted her.”

  “Will, you’re completely overreacting,” she said calmly. “I really do think it’s their mutual interest in racehorses. He has a horse he wants to show her.”

  “Showing her a horse?” Pacing back and forth at the end of her bed, he could very well have worn a trench in the carpet. “I don’t bloody well believe it.”

  “I’m sensing you might be jealous.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” He stomped across the room to the window.

  “I’m not sure that it is. Oliver told me how much time you’ve been spending with Georgia, and although she probably isn’t what you had in mind for a bride, sometimes the best thing for you is right under your nose.”

  “Perhaps.” Hoping for a glimpse of Georgia’s return, he stared out the window. “She’s stubborn. Far more stubborn than you ever were.”

  “Stubborn about what, exactly?”

  “About what’s best for her,” Will grumbled.

  “Well, yes, you certainly would know that better than she, and you’ve known her how long now? Less than a fortnight.”

  He spun around from his spot by the window and scowled at her. “You’re going to team up with her against me, are you?”

  “I didn’t know I was choosing teams. What is really going on?”

  “Nothing.” He crossed his arms. “Nothing’s going on. Precisely nothing.”

  “So nothing is going on, but what is she being stubborn about? And don’t tell me you know what’s good for her. I require a little more information.”

  “She needs to understand our ways. Sometimes you have to marry someone who isn’t of your choosing. It’s just the way things are done here. She needs to follow the rules of society.”

  “So in other words, she has to marry whomever you select for her?”

  “Exactly.”

  Arabella laughed. “Oh, my darling brother. That worked for me, but it’s not going to work for an American-born woman. They are different from you and me. The rules don’t apply to them in the same way we’re used to.”

  “Yes, well…” He stomped across the bedchamber. “She needs to follow the rules of our country. She’s living here, so she darn well better follow our rules, or else.”

  “Or else what, Will?” The twinkle in her eye was familiar. He’d seen it before, as if she knew something he did not, and he hated it.

  “Or else I’ll make her. I’ll haul her off to Gretna Green if I have to.”

  Arabella gaped. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m very serious.” He strode to the bedchamber doorway. “In fact, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  “Think of what? Hauling her to Scotland to marry whomever you tell her to? That’s not the way it works. At least not with Americans.”

  “We will see about that.” Will stood up straighter and realized he’d been too easy on Georgia. This wasn’t a matter of choice. She no longer had a choice—she could be carrying his child. “I shouldn’t have troubled you with this. You take care, and I look forward to meeting my niece or nephew very soon.”

  “Will, listen to me. If—”

  “I really must be going.” He left the room; he didn’t have time to spare. As it was, he’d given Leighton too much time with her. The minute Marsdale had told him she was with that scoundrel, he should have gone after her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Georgia enjoyed the Earl of Leighton’s company immensely. They both had a fondness for racing, but she was more interested in his father, who had been a widower for a year. And, according to Lady Penelope, there was a rumor that, even though he was ill, he might want to marry again. She had agreed to a carriage ride with Lord Leighton in the hopes of meeting the Duke of Ardurry.

  The bright sunshine streamed across the neighboring fields. The collapsible hood of Leighton’s barouche was pushed back, and the heat of the sun’s rays felt good on her face. It was a lovely day for a carriage ride, however, Georgia’s thoughts kept drifting to last night—and to Will. She needed the distraction of a ride in the countryside to take her mind off of him and his words: You’re mine now.

  As much as she wanted to believe they could be together, she was completely wrong for him. She would never elevate his status—in fact, they might ridicule him more for having her as a wife. No, she must stick with her original plan. And for that reason she hadn’t hesitated when she received the invitation from Lord Leighton. Yes, she was running. Delaying the inevitable discussion with Will was wrong.

  But at this moment, she didn’t care.

  Because of their argument, she’d slept little last night, but she was determined to follow the path she’d set for herself. Her goal was still the same, whether she’d had sexual relations with Will or not. If anything, she was more determined than ever, because as soon as she was married, Will would be free to choose the right woman for him. A woman with proper breeding, who wouldn’t purposely goad him by leaving
food on her face, or wear tight dresses, or step on his feet while dancing, or take delight in racehorses or besting him in cards.

  Someone who was completely opposite to her in every way. A lump formed in her throat, and she wondered if her distress would ever leave.

  “You seem distracted, my lady.” Lord Leighton held the reins of a fine set of matching bay geldings.

  “No, not at all.” She swallowed hard, trying to relieve the pressure in her throat. “I was merely admiring the view. Is it appropriate to ask how long your mother has been deceased?”

  “My mother has been gone since I was a young boy.”

  “I thought I heard it had only been a year.”

  “Yes,” he said, “since the death of my stepmother.”

  “I see. I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for. She was a nasty old battle ax.”

  Georgia couldn’t help but giggle, and she was grateful for the relief. Her laughter probably wasn’t genuine, but anything that took her mind off of Will was a good thing. “I apologize. I shouldn’t laugh, but the way you said ‘battle ax.’ I pictured an ax and… Oh, don’t mind me. I’ve never been able to be quiet when I should.”

  “But that’s what I find so interesting about you, Miss Duvall.”

  “What’s that? That I say whatever I’m thinking?”

  “Yes, I appreciate it,” he said. She couldn’t imagine that Will ever liked her speaking her mind. Often, he seemed shocked by it, but this man actually valued it.

  “If you appreciate that quality in me, then I’ll ask a more personal question. Is your father interested in marrying again?”

  “I should be offended.” He clicked the reins. “Most ladies I take on a carriage ride ask about my marriage intentions, but instead you’re asking about my father’s.”

  “Just because I asked if he wants to marry again doesn’t mean I want to marry him.”

  “Doesn’t it?” He quirked a brow. “Perhaps you aspire to be the next Duchess of Ardurry.”

  “I assure you, my lord, I do not have any such aspirations.”

  “But let’s be completely honest, Miss Duvall. You asked me about my father last night, and here we are the next day, and you’re asking me about him again.”