The St Nicholas' Day Wager (2 page)

BOOK: The St Nicholas' Day Wager
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Chapter Three

 

“Please, Mr Brown, the tenants’ roofs need fixed. Water is leaking in and the draughts make it impossible for some to keep a fire lit. I can pay you in the spring once the new lambs have been sold at market.” Lady Gabriella’s voice drifted down the large hallway and Nick stopped, tapping his riding crop against his boot as he listened to his childhood friend’s plea.

“Lady Gabriella, you know I would fix them if I could but… I have mouths to feed too, my lady. Thatching is my only source of income and I need paid and so do my men. I am sorry, your ladyship, but there is nothing I can do if you do not have the funds to pay me.”

“What about jewellery. I only have a few necklaces owned by my mama, but I could give you them.” There was a pause and Nick moved nearer to the open door. He could see Gabriella’s visitor. He was young, maybe thirty years old, sturdily built and wearing clothes that set him apart as a manual labourer.

“Perhaps you could sell them in London, my lady, and then pay me in money. I have no use for jewels and who would buy them out here in the country?”

Gabriella sighed. Nick‘s heart went out to her. She’d probably known this fellow for years and this would be a very uncomfortable conversation.

“Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind?” Her defeat was evident in her voice and it hurt him to hear it. It seemed that Thornwich had left his sister to manage the estate, which did not come as a huge surprise to Nick.

He tapped lightly on the door but did not wait for permission and simply entered. She looked up at him, surprise evident on her features. He smiled, hoping to set her at ease. But her surprise turned into an unwelcoming scowl.

“Mr Brown, how much money do you need to fix the roofs of the tenants’ houses?”

“Most of the houses need some kind of repair, my lord, and I have men to pay. I do not work alone.”

“How much?”

“Really? This is too much,” butted in Lady Gabriella, but Nick raised a hand and surprisingly she stopped speaking. Gabriella had never been one to keep her mouth shut when she had something to say. Even as a child she’d been precocious, regularly getting in trouble with her nanny for being far too forthcoming for a young lady.

“Fifty pounds.”

“Fifty?”

“Aye, like I said, most roofs need something done.”

Nick pulled his money purse out of the pocket of his coat. “Thirty pounds now and the rest when you have finished.”

“Seems fair,” said the thatcher. Nick watched him as he accepted the money. The man’s expression didn’t change. His eyes did not light up with greed. This was a fair wage for fair work and both men knew it—and so did Gabriella. Out of the corner of his eye, he could practically see the steam coming from the blonde woman’s ears. She was enraged by him but good manners prevented her from saying anything.

“I expect good work for my money, Brown. If I hear you’ve cheated Lady Gabriella…”

“I promise, my lord, you will not find fault in my work.” The man pocketed his money, bowed to both Gabriella and Nick and hurried out of the room.

Gabriella waited until the man was walking back up the private road to the village before she rounded on Nick.

“Of all the high-handed, boorish, rude, obnoxious…”

Again Nick raised his hand and good breeding prevented her from saying more. He turned and closed the door.

“I think we need some privacy,” he said simply.

“Open the door at once, you brute. It is not proper for you and me to be alone together.”

“Hush, my lady. Please do not give yourself a fit of the vapours. I plan to marry you anyway.”

Gabriella clasped a hand over her cleavage, grabbing hold of the desk to steady herself. Her face was ashen and her mouth gaped before she gathered her wits enough to stutter out a couple of words.

“You do?”

“I do,” he said firmly. He had wanted to woo her and convince her to marry him when he had first set out on this wager, but he had a feeling that Gabriella would prefer honesty. And he was going to be brutally honest.

“And do I have a choice?” Her lips were set in a thin line and her brow was furrowed, her gaze rather ferocious for a young lady of good breeding. Two spots of dark colour on her cheeks showed her displeasure at the turn of events.

“Not really. You see, there is a wager in the betting book at White’s Gentlemen’s Club which says that I will not be married to you by Christmas. The wager was made by the Earl of Thornwich.” Gabriella’s mouth had dropped open in shock. “I wagered that I would be married to you by Christmas. And there is ten thousand pounds resting on the outcome of it.”

“Pardon!” Her voice had risen almost to a screech and she looked around as if hoping for some other escape from the study. But of course, there was none. “Joseph does not have ten thousand pounds. What do you think that discussion with the thatcher was about?”

“No, it appears that he does not.”

“Why would you do that? Why would you wager someone else’s life in such a cavalier manner? I understand that women are naught but property but…” her voice trailed off, hurt and bewilderment now evident in her expression. He felt like a cad.

“I was foxed. I know it is no excuse. I did not think that Thornwich would actually go through with it. And then I realised the joke was on you as much as on me. He was setting us both up to fail. It may not mean much to you, Lady Gabriella, but honour demanded that I accept the bet once the challenge was issued. Had I tried to weasel out of it, well…gentlemen can be cruel. And I would not have been the one to whom their cruelty nor to whom the wagging tongues of the Beau Monde would have been directed. ”

“So you agreed to this wager to protect me?” Gabriella pushed at a curl of hair that had come free from the severe knot of her coiffure. “I do not believe you, my lord. You are as selfish and cruel as is my brother.” She made a move towards the door but he blocked her way.

“Please, Gabby, wait! Listen to me. I thought about this last night. I considered whether I should just seduce you and claim a love match or if I should tell you the truth. I chose the truth because I believe you deserve to know. Friendship and love can grow. We come from a society that expects arranged marriages. From what little I have seen of you today and yesterday, I have the utmost respect for you and you are quite lovely. I see no reason for a marriage not to work. Please, let us try.”

“My lord, I have not given you leave to make free with my given name, let alone a pet name none but my dearest friends use.”

“We used to be friends,” he persisted. He would not feel bad for calling her by the name she used to insist that he use.

“Not anymore. I am no longer a child of twelve, Lord Eastden.”

His gaze swept up her slender body, over the perfectly respectable lavender muslin day gown until it rested on her bosom. He had accepted his fate and it was not an unpleasant one. Ever since he had agreed the wager, his mind had shifted to the inevitability of bedding Gabriella. And he was eager to do so—when the time was right. His mouth was dry and he licked his lips as he imagined peeling the dress off, untying her stays and weighing those perfect globes in his hands.

“No, Lady Gabriella, you are most definitely not a child anymore.”

****

No one had ever looked at Gabriella like that before. Nicholas—Lord Eastden looked like a cat readying itself to pounce on a mouse. His gaze seemed transfixed on her breasts and it made her feel uncomfortable and yet… it also made her feel beautiful and wanted. She shook her head. What a ridiculous idea. She was ugly. He had said so himself.

He dragged his gaze back up to her face and for a moment she dared to believe that he had changed his mind. There was no look of revulsion or disdain in his features. His eyes were hooded and again he licked his lips. That pink tongue sent her insides fluttering like birds.

“You know it makes sense, Gabby. You need a husband, I need a wife. Then when Thornwich admits to being unable to pay his end of the wager, we can force him to take on a man of business to run the estates, under the threat of me calling in his debt.”

“He does not need a man of business. I run the estate perfectly well.”

“I have just been out riding and I agree, you are doing a marvellous job, but Thornwich remains in control and makes stupid wagers with money you need to improve the lives of your tenants and estate workers. You are powerless to stop him from wasting money.”

“I…” She was confused and tired and unsettled by the goings on over the past day. He spoke sense but she was not ready to relinquish control yet. “I shall pay you back as soon as we have sold this year’s lambs.”

“And what of next year, Gabby? What of the year after? Even if I lose and have to give your brother ten thousand pounds, how much of that do you think you shall see for repairs and other estate matters?”

Gabriella sighed. He was correct, of course. But marrying him was a rather drastic step.

What he had said before made sense. Perhaps love and devotion could grow. He was certainly a very attractive man.

“I am not sure,” she said weakly, knowing she must gain some time to consider the matter properly. Of course, she’d had no other offers—ever—and he was a respectable gentleman with a good title and money. She would be a fool to turn him down. He moved close to her…even closer than if they were waltzing in Almack’s, and she was forced to raise her eyes to meet his dark brown gaze. Her heart seemed to miss a beat as he moved his mouth tantalisingly close to hers.

“If I need to seduce you, Lady Gabriella, I am up to the task.”

“You would force yourself upon me?” she said, aghast. He chuckled and placed his hand under her chin.

“No, my love. I have never yet had to force a woman into my bed. I am not about to start now. When you come to my bed, you shall come willingly…oh so willingly, Gabby.” He touched his nose to hers and she thought she may get her first kiss. Her heart felt like it was thudding right out of her chest and she had the urge to press her body closer to his. She wanted to feel those taut muscles against her softer curves.

But then he straightened, backed towards the door, turned the knob and bowed.

“Think about it, my lady,” he said before he turned and walked out.

Gabriella allowed her bottom to rest fully on the desk as she drew in a long, slow breath. She didn’t know what to think. Once upon a time, Nick had been the centre of her world. They had been the best of friends, slaying dragons, sailing the seven seas, exploring the new world and sometimes even playing house when Gabriella whined enough and Nick was in the mood to cave in to her demands. And then he had hurt her and she’d not seen him again, bar a few glimpses at balls during her fruitless London Seasons.

Now here he was with a proposal of marriage and a devastating smile that caused her stomach to knot and her breath to hitch. Oh dear, she was just so confused.

****

Nick lay in bed, tossing and turning and running over in his mind how to convince Gabriella to marry him. He could not help but think she had been tempted by his bold, honest proposition. Gabriella had always been a sensible chit and she was getting on in years. She appeared to have no other marriage prospects and his proposal did make financial sense. But she was a female and despite some of them claiming to be practical and pragmatic, he suspected most ladies wanted romance too.

He turned onto his side, pulling the blankets over his shoulders. His mind filled with imaginings of Gabriella lying on a pillow, her hair splayed out over it, her lips swollen from his kisses and the skin on her chest and breasts scraped by his day beard. He tried to push the thoughts away. It wouldn’t do for him to have to tamp down his frustrations again and he was growing hard again at the thought of her.

She had taunted him all evening with her low-cut neckline, the long eyelashes she had batted whenever he caught her gaze and the arse which teased and tempted as she walked.

They had not discussed their earlier conversation at all during the day or during dinner and the ensuing game of cards but Nick knew she was considering it. But how to push her to the next stage? She was an innocent, so seducing her would have to be done carefully so as not to frighten her.

He flung himself onto his back. This was no good. He couldn’t get her out of his mind and sleep was not going to happen at this rate. He needed a plan and in order to formulate one, he needed some exercise. He threw the covers off, marched over to the chair and hauled on the breeches he had worn the day before. It was a full moon outside. The perfect weather for a middle of the night walk.

****

Gabriella sat on the large seat at her bedroom window, watching a fox sniff the frozen ground in search of food. The poor thing would find nothing to eat around the old manor house. The weather had been crisp and cold for days now and they ground was rock hard.

The fox raised its head, listened for a moment and then fled. Gabriella lifted her eyebrow, wondering what could have frightened the creature. A figure appeared in the silvery light of moon, hunched up against the cold, but unmistakeably Viscount Eastden. Unfortunately, his greatcoat covered up his lean, muscular form, but she still had memories of him striding into her office, his breeches stretched over his thighs, showing off every muscle and sinew and causing her to blush and feel altogether too warm.

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