The Earl's Winning Wager

by Jen Geigle Johnson

  “I, for one, am thrilled to even be listening to this conversation.” Lucy smiled. “Who would have thought even four months ago our June would be conversing about the merits of giving attention to one earl over another?”

  “True.” Kate leaned back against the headboard on June’s bed. “And they are both as handsome as any man.”

  “Charity, is your concern his affection is not truly engaged—that he is toying with me?”

  “My concern is you will be hurt. What do we know of his family, his obligations elsewhere? I’ve heard his mother is choosy with regard to him.”

  June frowned. “Lord Smallwood said something similar.” She allowed Charity’s concern to wash over her. “You are wise to warn me. But I see no harm in allowing his attentions. How will either of us know anything about the other if we don’t move forward at least somewhat?”

  Charity shook her head. “Must we all marry? I might be perfectly happy here in the castle, and I thought you might be planning the same.”

  She moved to sit by her next-youngest sister. “Ah, Charity. I had not thought any attention would be given me. I’d thought we would need to focus on the most likely of us all—you younger sisters—but now that opportunities present themselves, I should like to explore them. I don’t aspire to be lonely.”

  “You wouldn’t be. We’d be together. Why do any of us grow up? Do we not have all we need right here on this bed?”

  The girls smiled at each other, and when June held out her arms, they crowded in together in one large hug.

  “I shan’t ever lose a single one of you.” June squeezed harder. “No matter what.”

  They talked and giggled and shared stories long into the night, until they had all fallen asleep in various degrees of discomfort on June’s bed. But she lay awake for many hours yet. Had she found a match in Lord Morley? Was he truly as interested as he seemed? Only time would tell, she supposed. It was a great evidence he’d invited her to the theater. She smiled in the darkness. The theater. She’d longed to go for many years, and one of the gowns most recently gifted by the Duchess of Sussex would be perfect for the outing.

  The deep royal blue of the velvet material almost shimmered, it was so fine. She was lucky to be close to the same size as the tall and slender Duchess of Sussex. Her long white gloves shone against the deep blue, and she wore her hair piled high on her head.

  Amelia had lent her the use of her lady’s maid, and as June skipped down the stairs, she had not felt more excited in a very, very long time.

  “Slow. Walk slowly so we can admire you.” Amelia’s mellow voice made June smile.

  She looked up and stopped short. “Oh! I didn’t know you were all here.” The duke and duchess stood side by side, and Lord Morley stood at the base of the stairs. He reached out his hand.

  And then June took her time. She stepped with the grace and elegance her governess had taught her. She remembered her own mother in gowns of similar finery. “Thank you, Mother,” she whispered. Perhaps she heard. June liked to think so.

  The image of Lord Morley standing and waiting for her brought much of her life in a beautiful, complete circle, and she began to see him as a part of it all. One foot moved in front of the other until she reached out to take his hand.

  He cradled it in his own, then bowed deeply. “Miss Standish.” His respect—almost reverence—touched her. He placed his lips to the back of her glove, and the impression left tingles racing up her arm. Then he tucked her hand at his side on his arm. He nodded to the others. “Shall we be off?”

  June smiled. “I’m looking forward to this. I’ve never been.”

  “Then I am pleased we can share in your experience.” Amelia looked radiant.

  June didn’t mention her condition, but she was beginning to see evidence the duchess was with child, and she hoped all was well with her.

  At Lord Morley’s nod, the footman opened the door to the ducal carriage and then Morley entered and sat at her side. Again the four of them were in a carriage together, and she felt a surprising comfort and familiarity. Of all the people she’d met, she liked these three most.

  “Shall we amuse the ladies with tales of our youth?” The duke’s eyes gleamed wickedly.

  “I think they would be most amused with your tales.”

  “True. And someone must be the foil against your noble nature.”

  “Has Lord Morley always been noble?” June asked without thought, wanting more than anything to know more of Morley.

  The duke considered his best friend for many moments, and then he nodded. “I believe so, yes.”

  “Now, that just cannot be true, by virtue of my humanity. No young tyke is noble.” Morley’s face colored, and June was even more charmed.

  “I beg to differ, perhaps, as I very much believe that you were.” The duke leaned back on his carriage seat with his arm around his wife, clearly enjoying the attention. “You’ll have to imagine with me. Young Morley over there and myself.”

  “Was he always Morley?”

  “Well, now, he wasn’t. Too true. Not to the others. But to me, he’s been Morley.”

  “And I called him ‘duke.’” Lord Morley laughed. “It was our way of making light of the responsibilities that would befall us.”

  “Too true. To be fair, you called me Gerald a fair amount. Still do.”

  “To be fair, I do. Perhaps when ‘Duke’ seems out of reach.”

  “Always keeping me on my toes.”

  “Just when my own life has been disrupted by your games.”

  June cringed. Was he complaining of his responsibility for her and her sisters?

  But he lifted her hand. “In some cases your interference has not disrupted my life—with regard to the lovely Miss Standish, for example. But in other cases, you have caused mischief, like the time you convinced me to stand up to our maths instructor at Eton.”

  “That was not only me.” Gerald held up his hands, his smile belying any real remorse.

  “But you are the only person I would have done such a thing for.”

  “I was failing. If someone didn’t ask for a reprieve on our marks, I would have had to retake the whole class.”

  “Hmm. And I got the ruler for it.”

  “I was sorry for that.” Gerald did look sorrowful as he shook his head. “But didn’t I stay by your side the night through while it stung?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “And wasn’t that the most noble of all things to do?”

  June laughed. “It was certainly giving of you.”

  Amelia shook her head. “Morley stood up for me to the other members of the ton when no one else knew who I was.”

  Lord Morley nodded. “And that was easy to do, as deserving as you are and as unworthy as they can sometimes be.”

  “Well, I thank you for it now.”

  They pulled in front of the theater.

  Morley peered out their carriage window. “It has just opened and promises to be stunning. The New-Road Theater.”

  June sucked in a breath. “Already I’m quite amazed.” The structure rose up to great heights in front of them.

  A footman opened the door, and as June stood on the arm of an earl, accompanied by a duke and duchess, she felt what it might be like to move in their circles.

  Everyone looked their way. The most glittering and fashionable of the day had an eye for their arrival, and June felt acutely observed. But she smiled. Lord Morley kept her close as they walked through a large gathering of people in front of the theater. As soon as they stepped inside, the noise decreased, for which June was grateful. The building was lined with red—the carpeting, the walls, the ceilings, the curtains on the outside of boxes.

  Gerald led them to a stairwell. Many looked as though they might want to talk to the duke or the earl or Amelia, but June’s group kept walking. When at last they stepped inside a curtained box of six chairs, Lord Morley grinned.

  “And now to watch the performance.”

  Sh
e sat beside him on the front row of their box. The duke sat at his other side and Amelia far down at the other end. The boxes across from theirs were filling. The women’s dresses were beautiful. Some sparkled in the light. Their hair was done up on their heads, some to the greater heights she remembered on her mother when she was younger.

  She leaned forward to look down. “Oh!” The bottom floor of the theater was filled with all manner of people, some fancily dressed, others not. But all seemed to ignite the house with energy.

  Her eyes were drawn more often than not to Lord Morley beside her. His cravat was crisp and white, and she’d never given it much thought before, but she found the effect against his jawline enticing. She embarrassed herself into realizing she was imagining just how it would feel to run her hand along his face, at his jaw.

  Lord Morley lifted his chin, obviously noting her attention. “It’s called the Mathematical.” He turned his head this way and that.

  She tried to pretend it was the tie all along that held her attention. “How do you tie it?”

  “Oh, my valet fashions it.”

  “You discussing your knot?” The duke laughed. “Amelia and I tried to tie one once. And let us just say it is good the experts take care of such things for us.”

  June laughed. The duke was a dear and so perfectly married to Amelia.

  June felt eyes on her from outside their soft comfort. She looked across the way again and saw the cause: Lady Annabelle. She was laughing and smiling with the people in her box, but her eyes were set squarely on June and Lord Morley.

  What was her interest there? She’d have to consider her later. Now was not the time to give Lady Annabelle one ounce more attention than June cared to give her.

  Lord Morley moved his chair closer. “I heard if you watch the side of the stage, you will see a surprise entrance.”

  “Oh?” Her eyes trained on the spot. “Thank you.”

  “Tell me, Miss Standish—tell me of your parents.”

  Surprised, she nodded. “I miss them terribly.”

  “I imagine so. I miss my father.” His face dropped, his lines more prominent.

  Her heart went out to him so, without thinking, she placed a hand on his arm. “It is harder than I realized it would be to lose a parent, two parents. They were wonderful people. Father was the third son and happily cared for a parish of lovely people in the west of England.”

  “Ah. No wonder.” His eyes sparkled at her in the darkness.

  “No wonder what?”

  “Your family is so full of goodness. You have been taught well.”

  “Hmm. We have, yes. Father’s favorite sermons were straight out of Psalms. And I do believe I enjoyed those best.”

  “And your mother? Who looks like her most?”

  June smiled. “I think Charity, with her red hair. But we all have a certain quality about us that is much like our mother. An air, more like.”

  “Interesting. I am certain she was beautiful.”

  June’s heart skipped. Did he think her beautiful too? “She was. She practiced what Papa used to preach, as they say. Every Sunday we were about sharing and giving and loving. We visited more often than we sat.” June laughed, remembering. “Which was fine with me. I didn’t much like sitting.”

  “I feel like I know them better now. Thank you.”

  “And your parents? Are you more like your father or mother?”

  “My father, most definitely.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “He died too young. He was much older than my mother, but I feel his loss every day. He had more years to give, certainly. But he was suddenly taken ill, and I arrived only in time to say goodbye to his last few breaths.”

  “How terribly sad.”

  “Yes, it was. And we move on, for that is the way. I became an earl, and my mother became…worried.”

  “Oh? And why is she worried?”

  “For her son,” Gerald interrupted with a laugh. “She worries night and day about Morley here. And for no good reason. Does he look like he needs to be worried over?”

  June laughed along. “Well, no. Unless one needs to worry he has taken it upon himself to marry off five women.”

  “That is something to worry about, to be sure.” Lord Morley stretched against his cravat. “But things are looking up. We shall find suitors for each one of you lovely Standish sisters. Lords, even. Shall we find lords for the Sisters of Sussex?”

  “Lucy would thank you.”

  “Lucy. That woman will marry a duke.”

  “Which one?” The duke huffed. “I don’t know a single young duke.”

  “But the young Lord Fenwick.” Lord Morley smiled. “He’ll be a duke one day.”

  June couldn’t help but feel disappointed he’d grouped her in conversation as one to be married off. Her earlier concerns he only viewed her as an obligation to fulfill resurfaced.

  But Lord Morley lifted her hand. “I find my responsibility to help you in this regard most odious.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and she tried to pull her hand away. She began to stand. “Believe me, it is not my intent to be a burden—”

  “No, please. I tease, or I mean to flatter.” Lord Morley ran a hand through his hair, muffing it in all directions, looking so undeniably vulnerable she paused before what would have been a swift pace to the back of their box.

  “I don’t wish to be worried over,” June said. “I wish for matches for my sisters and none else. I will spend my days happily in the castle alone.”

  “But is that what you truly wish? To be alone?”

  “Of course not, but I don’t wish to be a trouble, that is for certain.”

  “I wish to explain—please. What I meant was forcing myself to allow you to meet the men of the ton, to give them chances to woo you, watching them fawn over you and perhaps steal you from me—” He cleared his throat. “I find that odious.”

  Her breath caught. “Oh. I see.” Her smile spread.

  Before she could respond, the theater candles started to dim, and the curtains closed.

  She was still as far as ever from understanding Lord Morley’s intentions. But he’d convinced her of this much: she’d caught his eye. And she knew she wished to stay right where she was.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After the theater, Lord Morley dropped Miss Standish off at her home with the promise they and all the sisters could walk the South Downs. The white cliffs promised to be some of the most beautiful sights in all of Brighton. A group of them was going out for a walk, and the sisters had talked of it.

  The ball was just a week away. Had he asked for two sets with Miss Standish? He couldn’t remember. He’d thought of it often enough he could have forgotten to actually petition for the sets.

  She entered her home on Amelia’s arm. The two had kept up a constant dialogue about the actors, the parts they played, and what was to be loved or despised in each. Then the duke sent the carriage on to take Morley back to his inn. He was mighty tired of his separate accommodations, but he just did not feel comfortable sleeping in the castle. Now that Amelia and Gerald arrived, he could move in, but no one had asked him to.

  As he climbed down from his carriage, the evening air felt chill. The Steine was active with people taking night strolls. The Royal Pavilion looked lit and full of magic; its bulbous round towers with spindles seemed otherworldly. The inn seemed dark and lonely. Instead of entering, he headed out on the great walkway which circled along the stores and in front of the Royal Pavilion. The sound of the waves crashed behind him. He picked up his pace to fight the chill.

  As he made his way along the Steine toward the water, he nodded pleasantly to people he passed and considered Brighton as a whole. It was lovely, and it was an excellent place for the sisters to become married. If Brighton was any larger, he would not be able to keep track of each sister. As it was, he was certain to lose one or the other of them, especially when his attention stayed focused almost solely on June.

 
; June. The more time he spent with her, the more he became convinced they could be happy together, that she was uniquely suited to him. What had Amelia told him once? People had soul mates. He wasn’t so certain she was correct about soul mates, but he hadn’t met any other woman yet with whom he wanted to spend more time than June.

  He stood facing the water under the night sky. A large moon had risen off the horizon and cast a shadowy path of light along the black water. Voices approached along the rocky beach, and Morley was about to turn and make his way back up the Steine when he recognized Annabelle’s voice—and a man’s.

  “Come, Lady Annabelle. We may never be alone like this again.”

  “Precisely my hope. Now as I’ve said, I wish to be back up on the Steine. It is not appropriate for you or me to be down here walking out of sight, alone.”

  “But it could be diverting, much more so.” A man’s voice, silky, too smooth carried to him.

  “I said I’m leaving.” Annabelle’s voice was firm, but a hint of fear started Morley heading in their direction.

  “Not if I say you don’t.”

  “Let go of my arm.”

  Morley picked up his pace to a run. Very shortly he came upon Lady Annabelle and a man he didn’t know.

  “Just the lady I’ve been looking for. How fortunate I should happen upon you right in my hour of need.”

  “Yes, thank you.” She stepped closer to him, the trembling of her hands visible, and then turned back to the man, whose hair was a mess, his cravat disheveled. Morley couldn’t place him. Had he met him before?

  “Thank you for our walk. I shall finish the rest with Lord Morley.”

  The man grumbled, “Good evening, Lord Morley.” He bowed. “Creeves.”

  Morley dipped his head slightly. Then he placed a hand over Lady Annabelle’s on his arm.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, he turned. “Are you well?”

  “I hardly know.” She stared straight ahead and by the expression on her face, seemed almost unaffected. But, for a moment, before she hid it, her lip quivered.

  “Who was that man?”