The Wicked Wager (3 page)

“Here, have a brandy.”

“Thank you, sir, I think I will.”

The two sipped in silence for a while until
a huge smile lit the earl’s face.

“Burns, old chap, you are brilliant! That’s
it! I know exactly what to do. If you were a maid, I would have kissed you.”

“Thank you, sir, but please recall I am a
man and not a maid,” replied the stoic valet.

“And, Burns, next time your wife buys an
extra fish, allow me to pay for it.”

“Very good, sir.”

Emma was pacing the length of the morning
room. Her mother hid a smile.

“This is just a lover’s quarrel. You will
have many such in the coming months. Don’t scowl, my dear. It makes you look
ghastly.”

She scowled harder. The earl had captured
her heart the first time he had spoken to her. Like every other female during
the season, she too had appreciated the earl’s good looks.

His face was chiselled bones and angles,
and his blonde hair looked temptingly soft. His best features were his
cornflower blue eyes that sparkled with mischief at all times.

He had been a rake, leaving more hearts
broken than any other man during the season. He enjoyed speaking his mind,
particularly unsettling those of the starched variety. His very nature had
appealed to her, which was so like her own.

Yet all through that first dance he had
treated her as if she were infested with fleas. His coldness had hurt more than
anyone else’s indifference.

When he had proposed, she had been the
happiest girl in England.

She stopped pacing and abruptly sat down.
He would be here soon, and she could not have him find her in any other state
than composed … but her thoughts soon flew back to him, her forehead scrunching
up in worry. No matter how much she tried, she could not compose herself and
banish him from her mind.

She reflected on his faults
—
his arrogance and his
possessiveness. She could handle the possessiveness. After living with her
three elder brothers, the earl was relatively tame. The arrogance was what
bothered her. She was a thinking being. She could not blindly believe that her
fiancé had no faults. No man was perfect, and it was unfair of Richard to
expect her to believe otherwise.

Admittedly she had gone on about the duke
deliberately to annoy him. Some imp inside her had pushed her to do so. Perhaps
it was the frustration of waiting and the fear of something going wrong to stop
the wedding.

There was yet another thing which Emma had kept
from the earl; she would be leaving for the duke’s residence in a week, and her
return was indefinite.

It could be months before they saw each
other again. At a time when their courtship was still so new, to give the
relationship a break was troubling her. What if he fell in love with someone
else? They still had so much to learn about each other, and every moment
together was precious. Insecure and unhappy, she picked up the sewing.

A glance at the clock showed he was late
for his usual morning call. She worriedly stabbed the cloth, wondering if she
had gone too far by arguing with him the last time they had met. She had just
finished stitching a leaf when the butler announced the earl’s arrival.

Emma forced herself to stay seated when all
she wanted to do was leap up and run to the door.

The earl entered the room and jovially
greeted them. Emma searched his face and apart from a few tired lines around
his mouth found him in an amiable mood.

She could tell he was dying to speak to her
alone, and sure enough he asked her mother’s permission to allow them to take a
stroll in the park.

Emma leaped up and headed towards the door
before her mother could give her consent. She ran and fetched her parasol,
calling for her abigail.

Bessie had been with her for years, and she
was the perfect chaperone. She turned deaf and blind around the couple,
discreetly falling back at the right time.

Thankfully she had donned a pretty yellow
walking dress that morning, and apart from briefly waiting for her maid to join
her, nothing else delayed her.

They leisurely set out, enjoying the last
few days of sunshine before autumn set in. Summer was over and the season at an
end, yet not a cloud dotted the sky.

She stared out at the great expanse,
marvelling at the blue that matched her fiancé’s eyes.

“Forgive me, I was out of temper the last
time we met.”

“It was nothing,” replied Emma.

The earl had expected an apology in return.
Women were difficult to understand, and he wisely did not push the issue. He
was pleased to have her in a good mood instead of sulking like most other women
would have been. He was in no humour to cajole. Instead, his head was brimming
full of plans that he wanted to share.

“When do you leave for the duke’s estate?”

Emma turned to face him, looking anxious as
she replied, “In a week, and I am not sure how long I will have to stay on to
convince him. It could be a month or more. My parents have decided to stay on
in London instead of leaving for our country home. They want to be prepared in
case the duke agrees to a shorter engagement, and London has the best of
shops.”

“Excellent!” The earl rubbed his hands
together in relish.

Emma stopped walking and planted her hands
on her hips, “Do you have a mistress tucked away that I should know about?”

“Eh?”

“The prospect of not seeing me, possibly
for months, seems to give you immense pleasure, My Lord.”

“Oh, Em, you do not understand, I have a
plan. Oh, yes, a most excellent plan.”

Emma stared at the earl. He looked like a
little boy who had something awfully naughty up his sleeve. She waited in
silence for an explanation. She would hear it, and then decide if she should,
in fact, be offended.

“You told me that the duke is the cleverest
man you have ever met, that he can know a man’s mettle within a minute of
meeting him, and that no one can deceive him. Am I right?”

“Yes,” she said slowly, wondering where
this was going.

“I want to prove to you that anyone can be
fooled, including the great duke. Not only has he forced us to wait, but you
are going off to his estates to convince him. I have no idea how many months we
will be apart, and our courtship is still in its nascent stages. I cannot bear
to have you parted from me fo r any length of time.”

Emma listened in silence, pleased that the
earl thought exactly as she did. She agreed with him wholeheartedly, except
about fooling the duke.

That statement made her feel uneasy.

“So what is your plan?” she asked
hesitatingly, not sure if she wanted to know.

“All this morning I have been investigating
and it seems the duke needs a head gardener rather desperately. You, my dear,
will forge your father’s handwriting and write to the duke. You are to write
that a man with the greenest thumb in all of England needs to find an adequate
position, and would the duke be willing to hire him.”

Emma gaped at him. He could not possibly
intend to do what she thought he was intending. Could he?

“I have studied botany, so I know a little
about plants. I will pretend to be a head gardener, and I wager your wonderful
duke will be none the wiser.”

“You are mad. You will be caught in a day.”

“I will not be caught, I assure you. We
will have more time to spend together, and you will learn to trust your husband
and his skills better,” he finished triumphantly.

“Your plan has so many holes that I do not
know where to start.”

“It does not. Name one.”

“What if your plan does work and we marry,
how are you to explain posing as his gardener?”

“The duke does not have time to deal with
gardeners. I may see him briefly during his walks. Other than that, he will
never know who I am. A person sees what he means to see. If he sees a man
dressed as a gardener, then he will look no further. Dukes have no time to
waste on the lower class.”

“He never forgets a face. You do not know
him. This plan will never work … the housekeeper does most of the hiring, but
you can charm her. She has a soft spot for good looking men. The duke is
another matter … this is the most ridiculous plan I have ever heard.”

“Think of our trysts in the garden. The
secret meetings would create the perfect scene for courting. The stolen kisses
and the scent of danger …”he whispered.

Emma coloured up, “If we are caught?”

“That’s the genius of the plan, Em. If we
are caught, all will be known, and the result would be that I would have to
marry you as soon as possible in case I had compromised you. And that is
exactly
what we both want,” he finished gleefully.

She grinned in return. Her fiancé had a
devil of a sense of humour. His plan sounded more and more probable.

“What do I win if you lose the wager?”

“If the duke discovers me within a month
then you, my dear, have permission to follow the duke’s advice on any matter,
while my own words can be overlooked. I will concede defeat and thereafter
agree your duke is far cleverer than I am. I shall be humbled, what more could
you want?”

“And if you win?”

“If I last a month without being
discovered, I shall compromise you and make sure you let your family know so
that we are married with a special license as soon as possible.”

“You are evil you know?”

“I know,” he said cheerfully.

“Wait … what if the duke wrote to my father
about the gardener, thanking him and such?”

“Mention to the duke that of late your father
has become absent minded due to the stress of planning the impending wedding,
and your mother is driving him demented. If your father does reply saying he
never sent any gardener, then the duke can chalk it down to stress. I will also
be accompanying you on your journey, so the duke has no reason to doubt the
fact that I have been sent by your father, since you will vouch for me.”

“You have an answer for everything.”

The earl smiled and pulled her into an
alcove.

“So you will write the letter?”

“Yes, this sounds like too much fun to
disagree.”

“That’s my brave, Em,”he said, before
bending to kiss her.

Emma was convinced she had lost her mind.
What in the world had possessed her to agree to the earl’s plan? He had been
standing too close to her, and his talk of kisses and trysts had addled her
brain.

How could she have thought, even for a
moment, that having the earl disguise himself as the duke’s gardener would be
fun? What in the world were they thinking?

She sat on her bed staring at the letter
she had just written to the duke. She had to admit that her forgery was pretty
convincing.

She was used to corresponding with her
father’s associates when he was busy, and copying his handwriting had seemed
fun a few years ago. Practice had improved her skills, and she had even written
to the duke at times when her father wished it. The duke had never been able to
tell the difference.

She was not worried about being found out.
The letter would not pose an issue, rather it was the earl that worried her.

If he had thought her brothers were bad,
then the duke was ten times worse. He was extremely fond of her and had always
treated her like another daughter.

However, his fondness translated to running
her life as well as his daughter’s. He could be most generous, but in return,
he expected complete obedience. It was a marvel he had agreed to the wedding at
all.

Sighing she set the letter aside. She
wondered if she should post it or hand it over when she met him. Giving it to
him personally seemed the safer option. The post was unreliable, and hopefully
this way he would not feel obligated to reply to her father.

She shivered in her shift as she snuggled
into bed. It would take a while to get warm as Bessie had forgotten the hot
bricks tonight.

The earl thought this was all a game. He
seemed to overlook the fact that he would have to sleep in the servant quarters
and deal with people not of his class.

Did he even know what a head gardener’s
duty entailed? Would he even last a week? She did not think so, and however
much she wanted him close to her, his leaving as soon as possible was for the
best.

If her uncle discovered the deceit, then
there would be hell to pay. The duke would not blame her parents for her folly,
but he could make life exceedingly difficult for them nonetheless.

What could she do she thought biting her
lip. Dissuading the earl was impossible. The only thing she could do was wait
and see how things played out.

***