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Authors: Rebecca Thomas

Tags: #earl, #Wager, #hoyden, #Regency, #Bet, #jockey, #race, #horse, #Romance, #love, #Marriage Mart, #Victorian, #tutor

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BOOK: The Earl's Wager
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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.”

“I’m just making polite conversation.”

“I think it’s more than that.” He frowned. “I think you are very ambitious. And you aren’t British, so I tend to be a little skeptical of you.”

“My mother was British,” she countered.

“I’m curious about you, so I’ll play along and answer your questions. Yes, my father will likely marry again. He’s only fifty-five, but he drinks heavily, so chances are he will not live much longer. Then again, he may well live for another twenty years. Are you certain, Miss Duvall, that you’d want to bind yourself to a man thirty years your senior all because you want to be a duchess?”

“I don’t care about being a duchess,” she admitted. “I’m being completely honest. I promise.”

Surprise etched across his handsome features. “I’m a pretty good reader of people, and I think I might believe you.”

“Thank you for that.”

“We aren’t so different, you and I.”

“I’m sure you’re going to explain what you mean, my lord.”

“You want something. And if it isn’t being the next Duchess of Ardurry, then logically it must be because you want to be my countess, but…” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s that either.”

Georgia laughed. “Why don’t you simply believe that I like you, I don’t think you’re the scoundrel everyone says you are, and I wanted a carriage ride this morning?”

“I’m not sure I believe any of that, Miss Duvall.”

“I truly wanted to get away from Autumn Ridge for a while today.” She made a crossing motion over her heart. “It is absolutely the truth.” And by taking a carriage ride with Lord Leighton, she was only delaying the confrontation that was sure to come with Will.

They pulled into a circular driveway in front of a country estate owned by the Price family. The beauty of Danby Hall took her breath away. The building was made of warm yellow stone. Flower gardens surrounded the estate on both sides, and ivy wound its way up the east side of the stones. Elm trees shaded the driveway, and horses grazed in the distance. They probably had close to one hundred acres.

If she did manage to catch the attention of the Duke of Ardurry, it certainly wouldn’t be a hardship living in such a grand country home.

“You wanted to see my breeding stock, so I’ll take you to the stables.”

“That sounds wonderful. You have a beautiful estate. I’m surprised Oliver hasn’t mentioned you or your father. We’re practically neighbors.”

“You’ve been introduced to many people since arriving in England,” he said. “I’m sure you would have met us eventually.”

But for whatever reason, Georgia wasn’t sure about that. Oliver hadn’t wanted to let her accompany Lord Leighton this morning, but he hadn’t been able to come up with a plausible excuse to deny her request. She was sure his hesitation had to do with more than the lord’s reputation.

When they approached the back side of Danby Hall, a tall man with mannerisms similar to Lord Leighton’s emerged from the stables. Despite his protruding belly, and his once dark hair graying along the edges, the way he walked told her he was the duke. That she was considering marriage to someone so much older suddenly became real. And after the intimacies she had shared with Will, marrying anyone other than him was hard to imagine.

A pang of regret enveloped her soul.

“There’s my father now,” Lord Leighton said. “I’ll introduce you.” After parking the carriage, he escorted her toward the stables, but with each step toward the duke, she became more uncertain of her future.

“Father, I’d like to introduce you to our new neighbor, Miss Georgia Duvall,” Lord Leighton said.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.” Georgia made the appropriate curtsy and complimented him on the fine estate grounds, just like Will had taught her. Closer inspection of the duke showed he didn’t have good color to his skin, but that could’ve been from too many hours spent in the sun, or heat exhaustion. However, he could also be ill, like Penelope suspected.

“You’re the American woman who’s an excellent rider, so I’m told,” the duke said.

“My reputation precedes me.” She blushed appropriately. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“When women, British or American, help train quality racehorses, the word spreads.”

“I’m grateful my cousin, Lord Marsdale, allows me to partake in some aspect of the training. I did the same in Virginia, before my father passed on.”

“Marsdale has an excellent program and fine horses,” the duke said, “but if he’d use some of my breeding stock, he’d have an even better program.”

It became obvious then why Oliver had failed to mention the Danby estate and their horses—because they were in competition with each other.

The duke went on to add, “I have more warmbloods in my bloodlines—a heavier, thicker stock capable of carrying heavy loads over long distances.”

“You have primarily carriage horses, then?” Georgia asked.

The duke coughed. “No, not at all. I have quality hunters and jumpers. My horses have stamina and strength for the fox hunt, along with speed and agility for racing.”

Georgia nodded. Clearly, the Danby estate didn’t specialize in one particular horse quality like Autumn Ridge. Regardless, Georgia could converse with people about horses all day long.

In fact, it had been entirely too long since she’d ridden Perseus, and she made a mental note to do that soon. But it was getting late, and she didn’t want Oliver worrying about her. “Perhaps I can ride over later in the week. You can see one of Oliver’s finest stallions.”

“You’re riding stallions?” the duke asked.

Georgia caught a smirk etched across Leighton’s face.

“Well, yes,” she said with determination. “In fact, I’ll ride Perseus. You can see for yourself.”

“Don’t you ride a mare?” the duke inquired.

“Oliver allows me to ride any one of his horses, but Perseus is the one I consider mine.” She gave what she hoped was a genuine smile. “You’ll see.”

“Fine, fine,” the duke remarked. “You ride a stallion over here, and I’ll have a look.”

“I shall do that,” she replied. “But for now, I think I’d best get back. I don’t want my cousin worrying needlessly over my return.”

“Come back whenever you’d like,” the duke said. “I’m not surprised Marsdale has kept you all to himself.”

Lord Leighton extended his arm to escort her back to the carriage. Georgia didn’t understand his comment about Oliver keeping her to himself, but it didn’t matter. She’d have one of the grooms ride over with her when she returned to assess the possibility of a match with the Duke of Ardurry. In fact, she would do all she could to win the man over so Will would be free to marry a woman of high station.

The
ton
could be cruel. Will’s words replayed in her mind once more:
I can’t be shunned again—not like before
. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes when he’d said it. She could never be party to that, and that’s what he would have if he married her.

Although she had lingering doubts, she would stick with her plan—she must. It was the best possible thing she could do for Will.


Will paced back and forth past the parlor window, waiting for Georgia’s return. When he left his sister’s room he’d convinced himself he’d leave and announce to Leighton and Georgia that she was to marry him and no one else. But once he’d had time to calm himself, he realized a high hand with Georgia wasn’t the appropriate way to manage her.

Deep breaths.

He would find another way to make her see reason—it was the right thing to do. She must know she couldn’t marry a scoundrel like Leighton because she could be carrying Will’s child.

When he saw the carriage, he willed himself to stay indoors and not immediately confront them. And he reminded himself to handle her gently, despite his desire to whisk her away to Scotland. Bound and gagged, if necessary.

He huffed out a breath. It wasn’t like him to be so infuriated—he was a British gentleman, after all, not some rogue American sea captain. He fisted his hands at his sides and watched Georgia smile gaily at Leighton and then wave as he drove his rig from the house and down the driveway.

Will strode away from the window and back again. Surely he could wait for her to come inside, not chase after her like an obsessed rodent foraging for food before winter. He refused to go after Georgia’s crumbs.

She’d have him, and she’d be happy for it.

But when he approached the window again, she was hurrying away from the house toward the stables. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d spotted his horse and was making a run for it to avoid him.

“Confound it,” Will hissed to no one but himself. He donned his waistcoat and marched after her.

Inside the stable, he found her in a stall with Perseus—the black racing stallion that was soon to be his. Blast. He’d lost focus on the real prize. Although, after seeing them together, he realized he’d be content to have both of them under his roof and legally bound as his property. After all, that would mean he would have helped Georgia make a match he was certain Oliver would approve of… As long as Oliver didn’t realize Will had compromised his ward and pressured her into marriage.

“Georgia,” he called to her. “I was under the impression we’d speak this morning about our future plans.”

“You said tomorrow. You never said what time,” she said, then rubbed the horse’s nose.

“Nonetheless, we’ve plans to make,” he said, raising a brow. He was determined to keep himself calm and handle things gently but firmly.

“What kind of plans?” Not only did she refuse to meet his gaze, she moved to petting the horse’s shoulder.

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