The Earl's Wager (16 page)

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.

But she’d manipulated Perry at the racing track, and she doubted he’d be fooled again. “If you feel the need to tell him, will you at least wait until I’m gone?” She led Perseus outside to the mounting block. “I promise I won’t be long. An hour at the very most.”

“Miss Duvall, I don’t know about this,” Perry said nervously.

She put a foot in the stirrup and swung her leg onto the horse’s back. “All right then, I’ll only be gone a half hour. I promise.”

Perry glanced at her wearily as the horse pranced beneath her. “A half hour. If you aren’t back by then, I’m coming after you.”

“Thank you. I won’t disappoint you.” With a squeeze of her legs, she urged Perseus down the graveled driveway. She quickly took a side path through a wooded lot, and just beyond were rolling hills with open fields.

After she crested a hill that put her out of sight of Autumn Ridge, she let Perseus go. The wind pelted her and blurred her vision, but she didn’t care. She loved the feel of the moist air against her face and Perseus’s powerful body beneath her.

Just as it began to drizzle, she slowed him to a trot. Raindrops hit her, but the moisture of tears sprang from her eyes as well.

Will had only wanted her for the child she possibly carried, the child that never was. How would it feel if he really wanted to marry her because he loved her and because he wanted her for
her
?

Most certainly, he’d tell her she couldn’t ride across the fields astride or on a stallion. He’d insist she stay inside and do embroidery or write correspondence.

She had to be on her own, be independent, so she could do what she loved.

And Lord Leighton had offered her exactly what she wanted. Why, then, were her thoughts only of Will? She’d been so hell-bent on being independent and accessing her funds in the most efficient manner, maybe she’d lost sight of what was truly important. She swore she heard Will calling her name, but she kept riding, urging Perseus on.

Then she heard her name again.

She pulled back on the reins and looked over her shoulder. She hadn’t been imagining Will’s voice, he had been calling after her.

“Georgia! Stop.”

She stopped Perseus completely and turned him around. The rain shower picked up its pace.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Will asked as he pulled up alongside her, their horses side by side.

“I’m riding,” Georgia said. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You can’t be riding astride. You could fall and kill yourself. It’s not safe. And you have our child to consider.”

So that is where his concerns lay. Not with her, but with the child that didn’t exist. The rain fell hard between them, like a shadowy wall. She only had to say the words, and the wall would be erected higher. No sense in waiting. “There is no child.”

Will’s horse pranced beneath him. He pulled back on the reins and swung him around in a circle, his expression hard. The lines across his face were flat. She looked for relief in his eyes but didn’t see it.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Quite certain.”

“Regardless, we will marry.” Crisp certainty sounded in his voice.

“Why?” she asked, even though she knew what he’d say. But maybe deep inside she hoped for something else, something besides the expected.

“Because you’re mine. You became mine the night of the party.”

“You don’t own me.” She shuddered in defiance and sorrow, because there could be no future with him—she wouldn’t be with someone who thought of her only as property. She sighed. Besides, eventually he’d grow to resent her when the
ton
looked down upon him for marrying an American with improper manners. “You never will.”

“Georgia, I know it doesn’t make sense, but maybe this is how it’s meant to be. We get on well most of the time. You like to play cards, as do I. You will be a great advisor in improving my stable. We will be a good team. I’m certain of it. You will be a good helpmate for me.”

Unable to look at him, she looked at Perseus instead. A team? He’d never said anything like that before, and she desperately wanted to believe him. But what she wanted didn’t matter. He didn’t see the full ramifications of marriage to an American. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

She lifted her chin and forced herself to say the words. “I’ve made a match for myself, and it isn’t with you.”

His expression turned as desperate as she felt. “I’m speaking with Oliver. I’m on my way to see him now, and I’m telling him the truth. You’ve been compromised, and we’re to marry.”

“We are not going to marry,” she ground out. The rain fell hard between them. As she drew in a breath, a catch of pain settled between her ribs. “The Earl of Leighton has asked for my hand.”

“Apparently I’ve done my job then,” he blurted. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve taught you so well that you’re to become a countess, but not my countess.”

She nodded. The ache inside her settled deeper in her bones. “Yes.”

“Come then.” He swung his horse in the direction of Autumn Ridge. “Let us tell Marsdale the good news.”

“I agree. If I’m gone much longer Perry will come looking for me.” They trotted beside each other back to Autumn Ridge in complete silence, except for the sound of the rain.

A profound sadness saturated her soul.

Chapter Seventeen

Georgia changed out of her wet clothes and went to the drawing room, where Will and Oliver were waiting for her. The hearth was warm, and she immediately stood beside it, trying to remove the chill from her limbs.

Oliver spoke first. “Grandleigh tells me you have news to share.”

“It isn’t news yet, but the Earl of Leighton has asked for my hand. He’s awaiting my decision, then I’m sure he’ll speak with you.”

Oliver wiped a hand across his brow. “This has all happened so fast.”

She couldn’t read Will’s expression. He wasn’t making eye contact with her, but he joined Oliver near the window. She had expected him to tell Oliver that she was no longer a virgin—that she couldn’t marry Leighton.

“I guess this makes our wager complete.” Will turned to Oliver. A band of color formed on his cheeks.

“Yes, I guess it does.” Oliver stared absently out the window, as though his thoughts were far away, in an entirely different place.

“I’d like to think I lent a small hand in helping her secure a match. And to an earl with well over a hundred acres and several other properties. I’m sure Georgia will be quite happy.”

“You don’t need to talk about me as though I’m not standing right here,” Georgia demanded. “And what wager?”

Oliver uncrossed his arms. “If Will tutored and helped secure a match for you, I agreed to give him a racehorse in exchange. I wanted to teach you myself, but Arabella required my attention. I couldn’t take the time.” He turned his eyes to Will. “I am grateful for your assistance. The clothes you had designed for her are quite becoming. It doesn’t surprise me that she was a success at the party.”

Georgia’s heart thumped harder. She stared at Oliver with a mixture of dread and trepidation before asking, “Which horse did you wager?”

“The black one,” Oliver said with a glance between her and Will. “The one you were riding when you met Grandleigh.”

She ground her teeth together so hard she realized they might break. “No. Not him. You can’t wager him. He’s mine.”

“I assure you,” Oliver said, “he’s not yours. He’s owned by me.” He looked to Will. “I’ll have transfer of ownership papers drawn up tomorrow.”

Will gave a curt nod.

“No,” she squeaked. Tears pricked her eyes. She couldn’t let this end without a fight.

“It’s done,” Oliver said with finality.

“How could you wager him away?” she asked. “He’s the horse I’ve ridden the most. The one I’ve trained. I told Harland of his potential. He’s a great racehorse because of me.”

Oliver approached her and narrowed his gaze. “Georgia, it’s the agreement we’ve made.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she said sadly. “Why didn’t you use me in the wager, too? Give me to the highest bidder?”

“Grandleigh isn’t paying or bidding on him. He is a friend who helped me.” Oliver threw up his arms. “He helped
you
. You claim to have Leighton wanting your hand in marriage. Any woman would be thrilled at the notion.”

The tears that pricked her eyes threatened to spill over. She wouldn’t let them see her more upset than she already was. Anger was a better way to channel her frustration. “All right then. So be it.” She strode toward the drawing room’s exit, away from the warmth of the hearth, away from the despair that choked the very beat of her heart. “I have no say in the matter. After all, Perseus isn’t mine, as you pointed out. He’s just part of a wager to be bartered. As am I.”

The butler entered the room as Georgia fled. “My lord,” he said hurriedly.

“Yes, is something the matter?” Oliver asked.

“It’s the countess, my lord. She’s asking for you, and she’s asked Millie to fetch the midwife.”

…

Drinking port while waiting for news of the baby, Will sat in the library with Oliver.

Oliver was beside himself with worry, and Will tried to reassure him. “She’ll be fine. The baby will be healthy. Bella will be a wonderful mother, and all will be well.” He lifted his glass to his lips. “You’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right.” Oliver said, “I just…I just love her so much. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” He ran a hand over his cheek. “I know it sounds ludicrous. We only married in December. It hasn’t even been a year yet. How can my feelings be so profound and deep in such a short amount of time? If you’d told me last year when you proposed the arrangement that I would love her so deeply, I would have said you were mad.”

“Yes, well…” Will swirled the amber liquid in his glass before swallowing what remained. “You can’t put a time limit or explanations on love, can you?”

“That’s a rather profound thing for you to say,” Oliver mused.

“I was so concerned about appearances. I wanted members the
ton
to look at me the way they look at you.” Will went to the sideboard and poured himself another glass of port. “I wanted their respect, but after all the debts my father incurred, they only looked at me with mockery.” He laughed bitterly. “And to think I was considering an unfitting American wife. Then I’d really give them something to ridicule me about, wouldn’t I?”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Oliver asked incredulously. “That you want to marry Georgia?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Will lifted his glass and downed another glassful, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “But she turned me down. I tutored her and schooled her in being so appropriate that she’s acquired another earl, an earl better than me. An earl with more respectability, more land, and more money. What’s that saying about the pupil becoming better than the teacher? I guess in my case, it certainly fits.”

Oliver stared at him blankly.

“Don’t look so surprised.” Will leaned crookedly into a wingback chair. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with her. But I have, nonetheless. You speak of the short amount of time it took for you to love my sister. Look at me! I beat your record, and the woman I love doesn’t love me back. She’s promised to another.”

Will set his glass on the sideboard and uncorked another bottle of port. “My sister loves you with every breath in her, and isn’t that what it’s all about?” He poured the last of the liquid from the bottle, grasped his glass, and pointed it toward Oliver. “To you, my brother-in-law, to not caring about appearances and what the
ton
thinks, to you and my sister and true love. And to my niece or nephew. You have life’s finest treasures.”

Oliver stood. He placed his hands on the dark, walnut desk with gilded corners.

Suddenly, Georgia burst into the room. “The baby is here.”

Oliver gripped the edge of the desk. “Is Arabella… Is she all right?”

“Yes.” Georgia smiled. “She’s fine. Both she and the baby are fine. They’re asking for you.”

After stumbling out of the library, Oliver bolted up the stairs.

“Be careful,” Georgia called out. Then she looked at Will. “He’ll fall running that fast.”

“Do I have a niece?” Will asked.

“Yes,” Georgia said. “How did you know?”

“Bella told me she knew it was a girl. She’s going to name her after our mother, Margaret.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” Georgia settled into the yellow-silk sofa adjacent to him. “Listen, Will, I’m sorry. I feel as if I’ve let you down, and I never meant to.”

“No, no, don’t apologize.” He waved his glass in the air. “I expected you to follow the rules of decorum, that I… Well, that are set up by our society. But I can see that you want to choose your own path. I won’t stop you. You’re like a horse running wild. I would never want to change that about you, Georgia.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Of course not. I’ve had too much to drink. I’ve said too much to my brother-in-law. I’ll probably say more things I’ll regret by the end of the night, but I want you to be happy, Georgia. I want that for you. And if marrying Leighton is what will make you happy, then that’s what I want for you, too.”

“Thank you for not saying anything to Oliver…about us.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I realize you could have told him, and he’d insist we marry. I respect you for giving me a choice.”

He set his empty glass on the end table. “You respect me? How ironic.”

“I don’t understand,” she replied.

“It doesn’t matter.” He stood and gestured for her to move in front of him. “Let’s go see my niece.”