A Desperate Wager (3 page)

Nate had never been more pleased to see the gates of Hyde Park. Once they had cleared the main approach to the park, it took only a short time to arrive back in Brook Street. He jumped out of the carriage and hurried round to the pavement where his coachman was standing awaiting instruction. Lady Sarah had shuffled forward in her seat.

“
If I put my arms around your neck and you move backwards, my feet will clear the carriage and you can sweep them up. Do not worry, I cannot feel anything in them.”

He frowned. No. That was ungainly. He did not like the sound of that at all.

“Bellamy,” he said quietly to the coachman, “if I stand on the step and lift Lady Sarah into my arms, will you keep me steady and help me back onto the pavement?”

“
Of course, Your Grace.”

“
But you could fall,” Lady Sarah gasped.

“
My dear lady, it is more than Bellamy’s life is worth to let me fall. Is that not true, Bellamy?” The servant nodded solemnly and if the man had not been his father’s coachman since Nate had been in leading strings, he doubted he would have seen the twinkle in the older man’s eye.

“
Oh but, that is…oh!”

Rather than waste time arguing with the chit, it was time to just take action. He stood on the step, feeling B
ellamy’s hands on his back, ready to push forward if Nate fell back.

“
Got her.”

“
Step back slowly… slightly farther back… that’s it. Another four inches… Gotcha…” He swayed back a little as his foot had flattened on the ground but true to his word, Bellamy steadied him. Then Nate had his other foot on the ground and Lady Sarah was clutched tightly to him.

She breathed slowly as if she had been holding her breath while they alighted from the carriage. He studied the phaeton for a moment.

“I am sure it can be adapted,” he muttered to no one in particular.

“
Or you could get a barouche, Your Grace,” said Bellamy quietly.

“
Yes… perhaps. We shall discuss it later, Bellamy. Take the carriage home. I shall walk. Please inform the butler I shall be home for dinner. I am sure he will convey that information to Her Grace.”

“
Very well, Your Grace.”

“
Her Grace?” asked Lady Sarah, her eyebrow raised.

“
My mother.”

She nodded slowly.
“Of course. I am sorry.”

“
It is perfectly all right. Come, we shall go to the drawing room.”

“
I am sorry, Your Grace, but since you are already carrying me, would you mind awfully taking me to my bedchamber. I am so very tired. I do not get out much, you see, and the fresh air…”

She tried and failed to smother a yawn.

“Your ladyship, it is quite improper…”

“
So is wagering for my hand in marriage while you are drunk, but that did not stop you,” she sniped.

What in heaven’s name was he getting himself into? Well he had fashioned his own leg-shackle when they had met Miss Trotter, but it had been worth it to see the look on her face.

“Where is your bedchamber?”

“
Second door on the right.”

“
Which floor?”

“
This one. Climbing stairs is…”

“
Oh right, sorry.”

The butler had hurried past him and was opening the door into what looked like a library. But there were no books, just shelves, a bed
, a table with a washbasin and pitcher and a strange-looking seat which he realised too late was some form of privy-type thing.

“
Beside the bed,” she instructed. “Just place me on my feet and I can sit down myself.” He did as she asked, not sure about letting her go. When he did, she flopped onto the bed and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

He moved to his knees, ready to propose
, but she chose that moment to unbutton her high-necked spencer. As she removed it, she revealed the almost indecent neckline of her gown. He sat, mesmerised by her freckled bosom as she tugged off her gloves.

“
Oh Your Grace, you are on your knees I see.”

“
Ah yes.” He whipped off his own gloves and tossed them on the bed. Then he took one of her hands in his. It was warm and soft. She bit the side of her bottom lip. His eyes flicked down to her bosom, to her slender waist, to her legs. Did it really matter if they did not work particularly well? “Lady Sarah, it would be a great honour to me if you would consent to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

“
Should you not ask my father first?”

Could she not just have said yes and got this whole charade over with?

He fished in his pocket and removed the note he had found in his waistcoat that morning. She accepted it and read it.

“
It seems pretty clear that I have his blessing.”

She nodded.
“Then yes. I shall marry you.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least, all things being equal, he should never have to do that again.
He had never thought much about marriage or proposing until now, but it did go against the grain that he had just proposed to someone whom he had known for less than a full afternoon.

“
Thank you.” He lifted her hand and pressed his lips gently to her skin. He heard a sharp intake of breath then a slow exhalation. When he looked up, her cheeks were pink and she was growing flustered. She had never been kissed. He was marrying a girl who had never had those gorgeous lips pressed against another man’s mouth. No tongue but her own had even been inside her mouth. The thought thrilled him and he knew not why.

“
May I call you Nathaniel now?”

“
Only my mother calls me Nathaniel. My friends call me Nate.”

“
I am not your friend. I shall be your wife, therefore I shall call you Nathaniel.”

“
Then for our entire married life I will feel as if you are scolding me.”

“
I suspect I will be, Nathaniel.”

“
May I call you Sarah?”

“
Yes.”

“
Freckles?”

“
No.” A stab of jealousy hit him. She allowed Eversley to call her Freckles, why not her intended?

“
In that case, Freckles, would you like to try your first kiss?” She glanced at the open door before returning her wide gaze to his. “It is open and it is perfectly proper for me to kiss my wife-to-be. The worst that can happen is that we would be forced to marry.”

Suddenly she smiled beatifically at him. Was she pleased that her scheme had worked or was this anticipation of her first kiss
? His breeches were getting tighter with his own eagerness. Still on his knees, he moved until his hip brushed the bed. He was lower down than she, which was slightly awkward for a first kiss.

She pursed her lips and closed her eyes
, and he chuckled softly until the hurt expression in her newly reopened eyes made him bite his lip.

“
Open your mouth just slightly and relax.”

She did
, and he gently placed his lips on hers. Moving then firmly, teaching her what to do. It seemed as if suddenly she understood and her lips started moving too.

When he ran his tongue along her lower lip, he groaned as the blunt tip of her tongue darted out, questing and eager.
This kiss was different to all the others he had experienced—perhaps because of her innocence and inexperience. It was more intense than those in his past. She was drawing him deeper under her spell with each tentative motion of her tongue. His tongue was embarking on its own quest, and he was aware of his hardness pressing against her thigh.

Pull away. This is meant to be a chaste kiss. Pull away.

His hands were around her, moving up and down her back as she held to his shoulders for dear life. Her lack of inhibitions was like a drug. If he had not known better, he would have judged her to have been well and truly kissed before, and on more than one occasion. When she moaned and pressed herself against him, he had to pull away. It was either that or get up, lock her bedchamber door and deflower her there and then.

With every morsel of self-control he possessed
, he removed himself from her embrace, delighted when her lips followed him for a moment, puckered and desperate for more. They were swollen and redder and …

He stood quickly, covering the placket of his breeches with his hand. His blood seemed to be boiling and suddenly marrying Lady Sarah Steele did not seem such a daunting prospect.

“I will put a notice in the newspaper tomorrow and I think we should aim for three weeks. Time for the banns to be read, for you to get a gown and for me to arrange the paperwork.” He needed to get away from her. Being in her bedchamber was not at all appropriate, and his reaction to her had taken him aback.

“
That sounds acceptable,” she said quietly. She did not seem herself. Was she upset? He leaned over and picked up his gloves.

“
I am sorry for getting carried away. It was just…”

“
Oh no. I enjoyed it. But I wondered if I did something wrong.”

“
Wrong? No. It was…” He could hardly say what he really thought—erotic, exciting and wonderful. “Very nice. I just think we should get to know each other better first.”

“
You think I am too forward?”

“
Not at all. Everything you did was perfect.” Too perfect.

“
I thought it would last longer. The kiss. I read a novel once and they kissed for a very long time.”

“
I see. Well sometimes kisses do last longer. Despite the door being open, it is still a little unorthodox.”

“
In the novel, their tongues did battle.”

“
Battle? Did ours not do battle?”

“
No, it was more like… exploring.”

He smiled to himself. Not only was she difficult, inquisitive, annoying, out-spoken and sometimes rude, she was funny, charming, delightfully innocent and sweet. How the hell was he going to make her pay for trapping him into marriage when she was so… her. He bent down and placed a light kiss on her nose.

“Worry not, Freckles, our tongues will most definitely do battle…and soon.” He turned quickly and left the room just as a sigh escaped her. Damn her. Damn the situation and damn her father. He needed a brandy.

“My Lord, I apologise for disturbing you, but I wondered if I might have a word.”

The austere dining room at White’s was a quiet hub of activity. Many single gentlemen were finishing off their evening meals, discussing the day’s events in the House of Lords or the latest news from the continent. Nate had been surprised to see the Earl of
Brackingham sitting in the corner, drinking brandy. It had been the man’s coughing fit that had drawn his attention.

“
Of course,” Brackingham answered, gesturing to the seat opposite. “Brandy?” Nate would give his right ear for a brandy but not with his soon-to-be-father-in-law. He pushed back the desire. He could wait a few minutes.

“
I fear if I get drunk in your presence again, Brackingham, you would fleece me out of my unentailed estate.”

“
I have no intention of fleecing you out of anything, Your Grace.”

“
Please, call me Kirkbourne… Or Nate, if you so wish. We are to be family.”

“
Kirkbourne, I would apologise for that wager, young man, but I am afraid I am too old and too ill to beg your forgiveness. I do not regret doing it.”

“
If I may be so bold, My Lord. I understand why you did it, but I do not understand why you picked me.”

The older man sat back on the leather seat, rubbing his chin and clearly contemplating his future son-in-law.

“The apothecary told me in December that I do not have long left. He believes if I am lucky, I shall see the summer. And so, when I have been well enough to attend, I have sat in the House of Lords and observed—observed all the young bucks like you. Who is a good enough man? To whom can I entrust the happiness and care of my Sarah? Soon you will have children, Kirkbourne, and then you will understand.”

“
Understand why you thought a rake and a drunk was an appropriate husband for your crippled daughter?”

“
She is only crippled in the legs, Kirkbourne. Her mind works perfectly well.”

“
That is obvious, My Lord. Again I ask, why me, when I was so weak you were able to ply me with brandy and cheat me at cards?” Brackingham lifted an eyebrow at this accusation, then took a long draught of his brandy.

“
You accuse me of cheating, yet you have not called me out. I see no glove. Nor am I facing you down the barrel of your pistol at dawn in Hyde Park.”

“
Neither do you call me out for falsely accusing you, My Lord.”

“
If I admitted to cheating, would you slap a glove in my face?”

“
No.”

“
Would you withdraw your offer to marry my daughter?”

“
No.”

“
May I ask why not?”

Nate frowned, studying the old man as he considered the question. He’d had the feeling that
Brackingham had cheated and yet still he was going through with the wedding. Even now when the earl had all but admitted it. Why?

Because Sarah was crippled? Because he admired her? Because he had to marry eventually and he did not subscribe to modern notions of love matches? This was just an arranged marriage of a different kind. Had she not fallen off a horse, she would have most likely been a much sought after young lady.

“Your daughter is still a good match. She assures me she can carry children. I have plenty of money, therefore her day to day extra care will not be an issue.”

The earl nodded slowly.

“As I said, I watched all the young bucks in the House of Lords, deciding who would be the best suitor for my Sarah. You are a good man, Kirkbourne, despite your fondness for brandy. You care for your tenants, for the poor, for the less fortunate. I think your attempts at voting reform are a fool’s errand, not because I think you are in error, but because the peerage has no interest in reforming who has the right to vote.”

“
You think I am a fool?”

“
No. I said you are on a fool’s errand, not that you are a fool. You are ahead of your time. One day reform will happen, but not now. Mayhap women shall one day vote but not in your lifetime and most certainly not in mine. Your ideals are admirable, but they are not popular.”

“
You may be right. But it is still worth persevering.”

“
Indeed. Now do you understand why I chose you?”

Nate had to be honest. He was none the wiser. He wished he understood.

“No, sir. I do not. I am a drunk, a rake and many would suggest I am a wastrel.”

The earl chuckled.
“You are a good man. You are not really a rake. I know of no innocents that you have debauched, and I assume you have no trail of bastards dotted around your estates.”

“
No, My Lord. I plan to be faithful to your daughter.”

“
I would like that, though I know fidelity is not particularly common among aristocratic marriages. I know there is a reason you drink too much, but you will take good care of my daughter and you have the capacity to love her eventually. Maybe her capacity for love will show you that the bottom of a brandy decanter is not the answer to your problems.”

“
I do not believe in romantic love, My Lord. And I beg your pardon but you know nothing of my reasons for drinking heavily.” Of course the old earl knew why he drank. Everyone knew about the curricle race and the fact that Crosby had died while racing him. Everyone knew that Nate had been more adept with the ribbons than his friend. And everyone knew that Nate was as responsible for Crosby’s death as if he had shot the man through the heart in a duel.

A smile crept across the face of the old earl as his eyes took on a faraway look.

“I knew nothing of romantic love either… until I met Sarah’s mother. Open your heart and mind, and it shall happen. It is my greatest hope for my daughter. Now if you will excuse me, Sarah will be worrying about me.”

Nate rose as
Brackingham pulled himself to his feet with the aid of a walking cane, nodded to Nate and hobbled off in the direction of the dining room door. He turned just before opening the large oak door.

“
You have two good lives to lead now, Your Grace. Not only do you have your own life, but you owe it to Crosby to make good with the life you have.”

The duke watched the door for a few minutes after the old man had left. Suddenly he felt as if he not only had the care of Lady Sarah Steele on his shoulders but the hopes and dreams of her father. And Christ
, but he needed a very large brandy.