The Earl's Wager

by Rebecca Thomas

  For a woman once completely set on what she wanted to accomplish, Georgia wasn’t at all pleased with her plan. The next day, she still felt uncertain about what to do.

  Will had changed everything.

  And while she wanted to acquiesce and agree to their union, his words about duty and her possible pregnancy, and how women like her should be pleased to marry a titled gentleman like him—all of it only infuriated her and made her more determined than ever not to be with him.

  Ever since she had arrived in England, she’d planned to marry an older gentleman, though she certainly didn’t think she’d be lucky enough to find someone who lived so close to Oliver and Arabella.

  So, instead of dwelling on Will and her predicament, she’d sent a letter asking which day would be best to ride Perseus over to Danby Hall, and the Duke of Ardurry responded by asking her to visit the following day.

  She wondered again why Oliver hadn’t mentioned the Leighton estate, but it really didn’t matter—she’d discovered them and didn’t have time to waste. She needed to be married so Will would move on and find himself a proper bride of his own. However, she would have to make sure she wasn’t indeed pregnant first—no matter how unconventional her goal to be an independent woman in charge of her own funds, she would accept a marriage to Will should she be carrying his child.

  She’d summoned one of the grooms to ride with her the next morning. It was a sunny day, perfect for a run across the countryside. When she rode, with the wind blowing through her hair, she felt as if she was home again, like nothing had changed. She could pretend, if only for a little while, that she was as free.

  Perry, a groom who worked extensively with Harland and the racehorses, rode with her. “Where are we going, my lady?”

  “To Danby Hall,” she replied. “The duke invited me for a visit.”

  “It’s quite a long way to the Danby estate,” Perry said. “Won’t Lord Marsdale be concerned if we’re not back right away?”

  “We’ll just have to hurry along then. Shall we gallop?” she asked as she leaned into Perseus’s neck.

  “Very well, my lady,” Perry called out from behind her.

  “I’ve asked you to call me Georgia, or Miss Duvall if it pleases you, but I’m not a lady.”

  “Very well, Miss Duvall,” Perry called from an even greater distance behind her.

  She’d made certain the ribbons of her bonnet were tied tight, but it still loosened as they galloped across the hard-packed earth. The wind whipped across her face, and she’d never known a more joyous experience than riding, but as soon as she had those thoughts, Will’s face appeared in her mind.

  Georgia had experienced intimate joy with him that she truly never could have imagined. If she married a man her age, bearing children and sharing a bed would be part of being a wife.

  The experience with Will filled her with wanton desire and caused her insides to quiver with need, but she couldn’t allow making love with a man to set the course for the rest of her decisions in life. Could she?

  Except if she were pregnant. Then everything in her life would be decided.

  Luckily, her courses were quite regular, and she should know within the next day or two if she was pregnant. In the meantime, she would move forward with her plans to pursue the Duke of Ardurry. Oliver had balked at her interest in Sir Richard, but he couldn’t deny a duke, no matter his age.

  When Georgia rode toward the stables at Danby Hall, she expected to meet the duke, but instead she was met by his son, the earl. “Good morning, Miss Duvall. How nice of you to come for a visit.”

  “I’m here to show your father how he might consider Perseus a good addition to his breeding stock.” Perseus pranced beneath her. “Perhaps just one mare or two could be bred with Perseus next spring.”

  Lord Leighton gave her a curious gaze, one that made her uncomfortable, but she ignored it. He grasped Perseus’s reins. “Let me help you dismount.”

  “I can do that.” Perry rode up beside them and slid off his gelding.

  “Allow me,” Leighton said and handed Perseus’s reins to Perry before reaching up to guide Georgia’s descent to the ground. “My father is expecting you.” He turned to Perry. “If you’ll take the horses to my groom, he’ll show you which stalls are available.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Perry departed with both horses.

  “And where is your father?” Georgia asked. “I expect he’ll want to see Perseus.”

  “He’s in the parlor, but he’s not feeling up to leaving the house today.”

  “I see,” Georgia said. “Maybe a visit from me should be delayed for another day?”

  “Oh, no,” Leighton said smoothly. “I believe he’s looking forward to talking with you. Besides, I want to see what you’re up to.”

  They reached the front doors, and the butler let them in. “The duke will see you in the parlor, my lady.”

  Georgia stopped outside the parlor door while the butler announced her arrival. She hissed under her breath to Leighton, “I’m not up to anything other than showing Perseus to your father. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  “All this time, I thought you were coming to see me.” Leighton put his hand to his heart. “You wound me, Miss Duvall.”

  When he smiled, his crinkled eyes held a mischievous glint in them, and even though her interest centered around his father, the earl’s charms didn’t go completely unnoticed.

  She entered the parlor, and unfortunately, Leighton followed her. The duke’s color was pale. “When I sent you the invitation, I’m afraid I was feeling much better than I am now,” he said. “My apologies for not seeing your stallion myself, but I trust my son will give me his honest opinion about whether we should incorporate some of Marsdale’s stock into our own.”

  “I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well, Your Grace.” She purposely didn’t sit down.

  “Yes, well, that’s what happens when you’re my age.” He waved his hand in the air. “Sit down and stay for a moment. I’d love to hear about your home in America. I’ve always wanted to go, but what with all my responsibilities here, I’ve never been able to manage it. And now, it will likely never happen.”

  If the duke was interested in going to America, then why shouldn’t he? They could marry and immediately set sail. The idea was thrilling, but at the same time, Will entered her thoughts. The idea of never seeing him again stung, and she felt more confused than ever.

  “Maybe you’ll be feeling well enough to go soon,” she suggested.

  “It’s doubtful, but do tell me about it, will you?”

  “Of course I will, but what are your responsibilities here that meant you couldn’t go? You have your son to run your estate, do you not?” She gestured to Leighton.

  “I have him, plus three other sons, but I’m probably not up for a journey.”

  “You have three other sons as well?” she asked, genuinely interested. “I had no idea.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now, so tell me about where you lived in America.”

  Georgia proceeded to tell him all about the farm where she was raised in Virginia. She also told him about her promise to her father to marry a British gentleman and live in England. None of it made any sense to her, but, for some reason, telling the tale to this man lightened her burden. Then she talked about racing and her love of riding, and how she’d had so many freedoms that weren’t afforded her here.

  When the duke looked as though he’d grown tired, Georgia said, “I must return to Autumn Ridge now, but send me an invitation again. I’ll return right away.”

  “That would be delightful, Miss Duvall. I’m so glad you met my son at the party.”

  “I am as well, Your Grace.” She curtsied. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you again soon.”

  “My son will show you out.”

  Outside near the stables, Perry gathered the horses. While she waited with Leighton, he said, “My father seems quite taken with you.”

  “Thank yo
u, my lord. He’s a delightful man.”

  “He’s not visited with any eligible young ladies for that length of time since my stepmother died.”

  Georgia nodded, wondering if there was a point to his comment.

  “We might make a new stepmother of you yet,” he said. “Especially with your talk of America. If you convinced him to make the journey, he’d likely not make it and you’d be a dowager duchess in no time.”

  Vigorously, she shook her head. “Why do you say such spiteful things?”

  “Why are you interested in my father?”

  “He’s a delightful man. He appreciates my heritage, which I can’t say for most of the Englishmen I’ve met. He doesn’t scoff at my accent.” Or say she needed a voice coach.

  “I doubt anything can be done about your accent, but it’s interesting in an odd sort of way.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “I have a proposition for you Miss Duvall.”

  The tone of his voice sounded so serious. “I’m listening.”

  “Hear me out, if you will.”

  “Of course.”

  “I believe you want to marry my father because he’ll die soon.”

  She started to interrupt him, to deny his accusation, but as soon as her mouth opened, he said, “You promised to hear me out.”

  She nodded. “And so I did.”

  “My proposal is that we become business partners. We will incorporate your stallion into our breeding stock, but we will also marry.” He lifted his hand, anticipating her interruption. She remained quiet.

  “I only require an heir. After one is produced, then you’ve no other ties to me other than being a business associate. No need to be in my bed. You’ll have access to all your own funds. I’ll have my solicitor draft a contract. It will all be based on business.”

  She was stunned beyond words. Isn’t this exactly what she wanted? To have her own funds, have her own racing stables, and moreover, to be a true partner in a business.

  “I-I hardly know what to say.”

  “Take some time to think about it. My offer doesn’t have a time limit. I require an heir. I sense you require your freedom. I can give you what you want, if you’ll also give me what I want.”

  She swallowed hard. “I have some questions.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because I like you. I think we’ll get on fine, and you’ve an eye for horseflesh.”

  “But there are any number of eligible British women available, and even if I do know quite a bit about horses, my status as an American woman wouldn’t elevate your status amongst the ton—in fact, they might even shun you for it.”

  “I couldn’t care less what the ton thinks,” he countered.

  “So you agree with me that they might shun you because you’ve married an American?”

  “No. I certainly don’t think they’d shun me or my family, but even if they did—I don’t honestly care. Why would you believe that?”

  She looked away from him, staring absently across the pastures. “I’ve just heard it said that the ton can be cruel if they don’t like something a member of your family has done.”

  “I think you might be overanalyzing the ton and their power, Miss Duvall.” He placed his hand on her upper arm. She noticed immediately that she didn’t experience that same bubbly feeling in her stomach as when Will touched her. Very gently, he turned her toward him. “I’m proposing a business arrangement, nothing more.”

  “All right. I still can’t understand completely why you’d choose me, but nevertheless, I have one more question.” Lifting her gaze, she watched him to see how he would react to her next question. “Will you still take me as your wife if I’m not a virgin?”

  He narrowed his eyes, his gaze shrewd, menacing almost, and at the same time completely unreadable. “Yes.”

  She nodded. “I shall consider your offer then.”

  Perry approached them with the horses, and Leighton directed her to the mounting block. “I look forward to our next visit, Miss Duvall.”

  “I look forward to it as well, my lord.” She climbed on Perseus’s back and gathered the reins in her gloved hands. “Good day to you.”

  “And good day to you, as well.”

  Georgia rode to Autumn Ridge with so many thoughts swirling in her mind that her head literally hurt. The Earl of Leighton’s offer was too perfect—it was everything she wanted. She’d have her own funds, and she’d even have her own child. Oliver and Arabella would live nearby. It was everything she could have dreamed a few weeks ago, but now everything was different.

  Now, there was Will to consider.

  She placed her hand on her abdomen.

  Unless the decision had been removed from her hands.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Will was beside himself with worry mixed with anger. He walked through his outside gardens to the back entrance of the stables and entered beneath the archways that led to the harness room. The smell of hay and leather only reminded him of his encounter with Georgia at the Autumn Ridge stable. After everything they’d shared, how could she deny him? How could she refuse to marry him after the intimacies between them?

  He’d visited Autumn Ridge several times in hopes of speaking with her, but she’d refused to see him, claiming she was ill. Fate had tipped his hand. Of course he’d prefer a biddable English bride, but with Georgia claiming illness, she must be carrying his child.

  The scenario kept replaying in his head over and over. She was ruined. She had to marry him. That was how things were done in England. She’d been so defiant as she said, I’m different than most women. Yes, that certainly went without saying. He kept hearing her final words to him: I’ll agree to marriage only if I’ve conceived.

  So this is what his future had come to. He had no idea how easily women conceived, but his sister was pregnant within weeks of her marriage. If that was any indication of how fertile his family was, he’d best start planning the wedding.

  He wasn’t used to having his future dictated to him. Not by a woman, not by anyone. He’d spent time in Ireland, managing his estates, making them profitable again, and had been living his life quite well until Miss Georgia Duvall rode into it wearing a jockey uniform.

  In fact, he wasn’t going to wait for Georgia to decide whether she had conceived; he was going to dictate his fate. And hers. He told his butler to have a horse readied for him.

  On the road to Autumn Ridge, he looked up at the darkening sky. If he’d paid better attention, he would have taken a carriage, but that took longer to hook up, and he had no time to waste. He took a shortcut across a field, which required jumping over several hedgerows, reminding him of his childhood and racing across these fields with Arabella. Damn if she didn’t always beat him. However, the happiness on her face was well worth losing the race.

  Georgia had worn a similar smile when she’d beaten him at piquet. He looked forward to many more card games with her, and he didn’t care if he lost every game they’d play, as long as he didn’t lose her.

  Within minutes, the sky turned a darker gray. He was over halfway to Autumn Ridge, so there was no point in turning back. Besides, he had things to discuss with Georgia, and this time he would not be refused.

  …

  Georgia sat in the corner of the stall with Perseus. She stared at him eating his hay, watching every muscle move, every swish of his tail, every twitch of his ear. She had bonded best with him since her arrival to England, so she thought it only fitting to sit with him and tell him her woes. She could speak with Arabella about many things, but not this. Not the fact that her courses had returned.

  The gloom that surrounded her only multiplied when Harland canceled their training run because of the darkening sky.

  Logically, there was no reason to feel grief. In fact, she should feel celebratory, because she was no longer tied to the Earl of Grandleigh—he couldn’t make her marry him now.

  And maybe that was the
problem.

  Maybe a small part of her wanted to marry him. A part so small she hadn’t even recognized or acknowledged it.

  She stood and leaned against Perseus, stroking his warm black coat and untangling the knots in his mane. There was no commonsense reason she should feel saddened, but she couldn’t deny the wretched feeling of knowing her future wouldn’t include Will. Since she’d refused to see him, she’d realized just how much she missed seeing him every day. She’d enjoyed their lessons, relished goading him, and still wanted to wrinkle his shirt, untie his cravat, and mess up his hair.

  She wanted him to want her.

  But that would never happen. As she wasn’t pregnant, there would be no reason for him to marry her, except for his honor, and she could never marry a man simply because she was a duty—an obligation. It would be a shadow hovering over their entire lives, and she’d have none of it.

  Now she must turn her attention to Leighton and his offer of marriage. He said there was no time limit on his offer, but she had to decide, and soon, before Oliver began to pressure her. It was so strange how she’d only thought of him as Lord Leighton, when, in fact, if she was going to marry him, she should consider calling him Lucas.

  But she couldn’t imagine him that way, even if she was going to be his wife. Granted, it was only a business agreement, but still…she would need to consider that they would be sharing a bed.

  The air blowing in the stable’s front doors was cool. Yes, it would probably rain, but it could easily pass as well. And no one needed to know she’d left for a quick ride, except perhaps Perry. Or maybe, if she was lucky, she could depart without anyone knowing.

  In the tack room, she got a saddle and bridle and returned to Perseus’s stall. She was nearly done fastening the girth when Perry spotted her. “Miss Duvall, Harland said no training runs today.”

  “Yes, I know,” Georgia said. “I’m going for a short ride around the estate, not a run.”

  “But I’m not sure Mr. Harland would approve. He likes to be nearby when you’re riding.”

  “Harland doesn’t need to know,” Georgia said. She rechecked the tightness of the girth and put the bridle on Perseus. There was nothing wrong with going for a quick ride.