A Wager Worth Making (Arrangements, Book 7)

by Rebecca Connolly

  There had been a series of lovers that followed, no pattern or structure associated with any of them, no true affection to be found. He’d learned to accept it, and to do so with his now token stoicism and silence, which had infuriated Celia. She had thrived upon contention and emotions, and his indifference provoked her.

  Thus had begun her torment of him. Parading about London and encouraging everyone with eyes to see, laughing and mocking him at every turn. Reminding him of how he had failed her, failed his family, how he was worth nothing without her… And the bitterest part was that it was true, and she knew it. She knew his insecurities and could twist them against him with such skilled manipulation that he could not deflect it.

  They had lived apart, sharing a house for the public, but keeping their lives distinct and separate. He lost track of her numerous lovers, and had stopped caring. She, however, did everything in her power to provoke him, to stir any sort of response. Toying with his friends, severing relationships that he’d held for years, keeping him from trusting anyone but a very select few, and even those he kept at a distance. He had reconciled with his Riverton relations during that time, but he had never let Celia become aware of the relationship, knowing what damage she could inflict upon them all if she knew.

  Knowing he was doomed to a life out of his control, knowing he had failed his family, knowing he would never be the credit to his heritage that he’d once hoped, he had settled into a routine of detachment, in heart and behavior and expression. Where his wife had been vibrant and vivacious and the envy of all, he had been spiritless and reclusive and unaffected. He was the one people scorned in their marriage, not she.

  He never minded, so long as no one knew the truth of the matter.

  He was powerless against his wife.

  He could say nothing against her, for she was his wife and he needed her association to remain beneficial. And part of him vainly hoped that one day they might reconcile, not to be in love and happy and blissful, but to be companionable, at the very least. Perhaps one day to have a family. But Celia wanted nothing but money and attention, and as she had that of her own merit and only needed marriage to free her from comment, she was perfectly satisfied.

  Then things had changed. She had become more cutting, more cruel, and more spiteful. She had been more bitter in her vitriol against him, painting him to be a villain instead of a laughingstock. And such was her sway that she began to be believed. She was rarely at home, leading him to assume that she was carrying on with less discretion to further her claims of his brutality and to embarrass him further.

  The day had followed that she had left in a carriage, destination unknown, and only made it ten miles outside of London before a wheel axle had snapped, sending the carriage crashing off course and into trees. She had been tossed about, and had been killed instantly in the crash, her body broken and half exposed in the wreckage.

  Lucas had carried her home himself in the dead of night, sending word for her family, who had known exactly who and what their daughter was, and they had come for her, begging him to let her memory remain as it had been rather than exposing her and ruining them all. He had agreed, of course. It would have done no good to try to discredit her.

  They’d buried her in London rather than on family estates, as London was all that she had ever cared about. It was the last request they could fulfill for her. He owed her nothing at all, but that was something he could concede to. She would not be honored with his family plot, and her family wanted no painful reminders of her. It was for the best.

  Lucas spoke until his voice ran out, and Gemma remained steadfast in her hold on him. He felt a tear or two splash onto his skin, but other than that, there had been no response.

  “I wish I’d had the strength of character to refute her estimation of me,” he murmured hoarsely with the last of his energy, “but she was a skilled architect in manipulation. Just enough truth to make it cut, and just enough fabrication to make one wonder.”

  “And you’ve wondered all this time,” Gemma finally whispered, her lips at his shoulder.

  He nodded slowly. “The years have only given them further root, and with the family life I’d enjoyed in my youth, I was used to believing the worst of myself. And then the rumors of Society started after the funeral, as we had all behaved so quietly. I think the outcry started from a lack of opportunity to mourn and a lack of investigation, though one had been done, of course. Discreetly. It made no difference. The Lattimers left London and did not return, and I remained longer than I should have, silent and going on as I had before.”

  “But you went into mourning,” she reminded him.

  He snorted. “I went to Thornacre. For two years, I rarely left. I never mourned a day in my life, but I let the world think so. Celia may have died in the crash, but her effects remained. Still do.”

  Gemma’s arms tightened around him and he let himself feel her embrace more fully, leaning against her. “You listen to me, Lucas Sinclair,” Gemma hissed, her voice a bit choked, but strong. “You are not a failure. To your family or to anyone else. You are the best man that I have ever known, and have far more strength of character and honor than I believed possible in anyone. I will tell you a hundred times a day that I love you, but until you believe me and not her, it will do you no good. Let her go, Lucas. She is dead, and so should her hold on you be.”

  “Help me, Gemma,” he pleaded softly. “Help me let her go. I can’t do it alone.”

  “Let me love you, darling,” she soothed, tugging him back and moving to lie down. “Hold onto me, and let me love you.”

  “Yes,” he rasped, turning and crawling on the bed over to her. “Don’t give up on me, Gemma.”

  She shook her head as she cupped his face. “Never. Do you hear me? Never!”

  He leaned down and kissed her tenderly, feeling as though his heart could break and fly all at once. “I love you,” he managed to say somehow, fast losing control on his emotions.

  She smiled and pulled him down to her. “I love you.”

  The words lit up his heart, and he kissed his wife again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Life went on, regardless of the reprieve they would wish for. Gemma could have spent days in Lucas’s arms, secluded in their house, forgetting the entire world, but it was not possible.

  Lucas, for one, had business that had to be tended to out of the city, and he could not be put off, especially as he was determined to be back for Miranda Ascott’s musical evening and give Gemma the proper attention and due as befits the man who desperately loved her.

  She had rolled her eyes a little, trying to assure him it was no matter if he attended Miranda’s or not, particularly as Miranda had approached Gemma and asked if it would be possible for her husband to not attend her event, as the attention would distract from everyone else. She suspected Miranda meant that it would distract from her desire to impress as hostess, but she could hardly say such things.

  Gemma did say, however, that she was not about to prevent her husband from attending anything in Society, particularly when Gemma would be performing, and if Miranda found that disagreeable, she could find another person to play the violin in her stead.

  Miranda knew full well that there was no other woman in London at this time who could do as well as Gemma, and she would be foolish to try.

  Lucas found that as delightful as Gemma had, and vowed even more fervently to attend, just to give Miranda something to set her nerves askew.

  He would only be gone two days, but it felt as though he was leaving for longer as he lingered, kissing her again and again and murmuring his love.

  “You’ll never get anywhere if you don’t leave,” Gemma murmured with a laugh.

  He chuckled and kissed her again. “Trying to be rid of me, are you?”

  She gripped the back of his neck tightly and touched her nose to his. “I am trying to get you to come back to me, you dolt.”

  He nuzzled her tenderly, nipped at her chin, then k
issed her. “Right, as my lady commands. Two days. Then never again.”

  She grinned. “You cannot promise to never leave me again.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  He would brook no argument, and left without proper resolution of his ridiculous claims.

  Gemma had amused herself for several hours with various tasks, unable to keep the silly smile from her face. She knew that there was more to her husband’s past and emotions than one night of confessions. It would take time and considerable patience, but at least he was sharing with her. At least he had told her the truth, and told her of his love and fidelity. She could stand by his side and wait as long as he needed her to, so long as she had that.

  Amidst all of that came the realization, with some certain calculations and unusual symptoms, that life would most certainly be changing for them in a few months’ time. If she had known this only yesterday, it might have brought worry and fear, but after the events and confessions of the night before, she was only filled with joy and anticipation, wondering what Lucas would say, how he would look, when she told him there would be a child.

  With giddiness in her step, she sent a quick note to Bennett, asking for a meeting in their usual park location. She must let him know the truth about Lucas’s reticence and the joy they had found! How delighted he would be! He had been so concerned for them, and for Lucas especially, that she could not wait to inform him that all was changed.

  His response was swift and affirmative, and she rushed out with Hattie as chaperone, per usual, and they arrived first. Gemma tapped her foot impatiently as she waited, wanting to laugh and dance and sing loudly so everyone might know her join and delight. Hattie knew nothing of the situation, but Gemma’s antics amused her, and she repeatedly shook her head, laughing softly.

  She supposed servants were not to laugh at their employers, but this was a special circumstance, and she was not about to tell her to stop when she was laughing at herself.

  “You, my dear Lady Blackmoor, are making the sun envious with all of your glowing,” crowed the now familiar voice.

  She turned, already grinning, and watched Bennett approach, impeccably dressed and looking like the very picture of one might imagine a handsome young man to be. He drew gasps and stares from several ladies, but his eyes were on her, and his smile a bit more of a smirk.

  “You may tease all you like, sir, but I will not apologize for my joy,” she said, smiling up at him.

  He looped her arm through his and began to stroll, nodding politely at Hattie, who followed them. “Well, tell me so at once, dear woman, so I may join you in your felicity.”

  Gemma clamped down on her lip with a silent giggle. “Lucas loves me.”

  Bennett gave her a surprised look, smiling. “Does he now? I am glad to hear it. What of his odd behavior? Of his first wife?”

  She shook her head. “He was tormented by her, she was not at all what people thought. But you must keep that a secret, Bennett, and it makes no difference now. He loves me and only me! I’m not second to Celia or anyone else!”

  A musical laugh erupted from her and she threw her head back, beaming in delight. “We were so worried for nothing. My husband might be a man of mystery and reserve, but still waters run deep. I should have known, I feel so silly for ever thinking otherwise.”

  Bennett was silent beside her, and his tread remained steady, but she sensed a change in him and glanced up at his suddenly stoic features.

  “Bennett?”

  He glanced behind them, then gripped her arm in a vice-like hold. “Keep smiling, my dear. You are about to elope with your lover.”

  Gemma reared back in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

  Something sharp was suddenly jabbed in her side and she glanced down to see a sterling pistol, no doubt rarely used, tucked against her, completely obscured from anyone else’s view.

  “Make any move to escape or give the smallest sign of distress,” he hissed, his voice positively venomous, “and I will shoot you here and now. And wouldn’t that be something for your husband to come home to?”

  “H-how do you know my husband is not at home?” she stammered, her mind whirling. “He is at home, he is waiting for me.”

  He gave her a sardonic look. “If your reunion was as histrionic as your expression says, there is no possible way he would let you come out and meet me, servant or no. And your servant in question is worthless. She is distracted by ducks at the moment, making this far too easy. I thought I was going to have to strike her or bribe her at least, but this is perfect. She is simply not mindful, and that is so much better.”

  The pistol nudged against her more tightly and she clamped down on her lip hard. “What are you doing? Why are you doing this?”

  He snorted, somehow still smiling jovially. “I am making your husband’s life hell, as he has made mine. Have you not wondered why he has been so strange since your wedding? That was me. I could not have him be happy, not after what he did to Celia, and what that did to me. I have been seeking revenge for years, and you were the perfect opportunity. To drive him mad and drive his wife away at the same time would be the sweetest vindication. Your insecurities and his fears were too easy to play upon. And now you would ruin months of work with your ridiculous resolution?” He shook his head fiercely. “No, that I cannot allow. We will drive a stake into the coffin of your husband’s happiness in this final blow.”

  “And that is?” she asked in a very small voice, her heart quivering within her as her feet mindlessly moved by his command.

  He grinned too easily, looking adoring but for the coldness in his eyes. “We are eloping, my dear, and your maid will verify that we were seen rushing off together in a waiting carriage, and she knows of our regular meetings, how familiar we have become… Even your idiot husband has seen our closeness. His envy and suspicion reek on his very person. He doesn’t trust you, how can he? He’s never been able to sustain a woman’s affections, and I… Well, I had the greatest love of the century because of his ineptitude. She is forever lost to me because of him, and you shall now be forever lost to him.”

  “He’ll come after me,” Gemma snapped, even as her breath hitched on her words. “He loves me. He will not stand for this.”

  Bennett sneered a little and dragged her along. “You think that, Gemma. You go right ahead and think your husband will not wonder if he has been mistaken in you, that he has failed yet another marriage, and that he is not worth the effort of a woman’s affections.”

  A whimper rose in the back of her throat and her eyes burned with unshed tears. She couldn’t say that she could refute his claims, for she knew of Lucas’s doubts and fears, his own insecurities. Their love was so new, for all its depth and passion, and it would be too easy to think himself mistaken in her, if he chose.

  Did he believe her enough to know the truth? Did he trust her enough to know she would never leave him?

  The evidence would be against them, and it would be too believable, given his past.

  She had been so cruelly deceived, but he had been shockingly abused. Bennett had been tormenting him somehow over these months, intentionally dividing them for sport and vengeance. He could not know Bennett’s true nature, nor his past, any more than she had, or he would never have permitted her to meet him. They had both failed to see the danger before them.

  Would he see it now?

  “I told you to smile, woman,” he growled, somehow still looking handsome. “Don’t make me wound you.”

  “I don’t care,” she shot back, struggling as much as she dared and preparing a quite startling volume of scream.

  “You will very much care when your misbehavior will force me to injure your husband.”

  That silenced her forthcoming scream and removed all energy in her limbs. Resistance fled and she looked up at him with wide eyes. “You wouldn’t…”

  He raised a brow. “After all this, you think I make idle threats? I would love nothing more than to run your husband through repeatedly. I
t has been hell to not take advantage of fencing with him all these years.”

  The venom in his voice left no question, and Gemma let herself go with him willingly, fear for her husband and their newfound happiness reigning supreme.

  What would happen to her?

  And more importantly, what would happen to Lucas when it did?

  Early the following morning, Lucas arrived back to his home, exhausted from riding hard and working a back-breaking amount of hours the day before, but he was determined to return to Gemma’s side as soon as possible, and his drive had been inhuman. Yet now he was home, and relieved to be so.

  He tugged at his cravat and coat as he made his way up to the bedchamber, smiling to himself as he imagined the delight of waking her, knowing it would take an age of time, but more than willing to do so, and quite creatively. The distance between them had been too much, and he was determined to make up for lost time.

  And when he had regained some sense of himself, he would tell her of Gent’s discovery of Celia. The information had come to him shortly before his departure back to London, and it changed much for him.

  Celia had taken a lover, but more than that, she had sustained one for quite some time. Her heart had been apparently decided to behave as such, and she considered herself to be in love. Her fleeing in the carriage the night she died had been an attempt to elope with her lover and leave Lucas for good.

  It explained her increased resentment of him, the coldness that had been without reason, the sudden cruel streak that had been harsh even for her… Celia had been in love and her marriage had gotten in the way of that.

  For some reason, that seemed to satisfy him. He felt no relief in her finding love, no pity for the state in which she had found herself, no guilt for the way things had turned out. He only felt tension ebb away now that understanding had been found.