The Earl's Winning Wager

by Jen Geigle Johnson

  “I think I would.” The Duchess of York stood, which encouraged the Duchess of Sussex to do the same.

  Morley led his mother from the room. All the sisters followed. And June would just as soon have stayed in the front parlor to meet any of the other callers, but she saw Lord Smallwood once again lingering in the front area of the home, so she followed the group on their tour.

  Chapter Twenty

  Morley wanted nothing more than to have just a moment with Miss Standish alone. He had immediately thought wrong of her. The sight of Smallwood in a private conversation with Miss Standish had set his blood to boiling.

  But as soon as he’d stood near her for but a brief moment, as soon as he’d seen the gracious manner in which she’d responded to his mother, he knew he’d overreacted. But he couldn’t behave in a normal fashion with his disapproving mother on his arm. Her pinched face and murmuring comments put a damper on everything.

  Mother’s hand gripped his arm. “Why are all of these people here?”

  “They are friends of the Standishes, Mother. I told you a tour had been planned.”

  “I cannot fathom so much interest in an impoverished family.”

  “They are distant relatives of the royal house.” He adjusted his cravat, wanting his mother to understand. “And they have dowries now, and the castle of Northumber. They are in much higher demand than you would think.”

  “Very distant. And living at the mercy of others—your mercy.”

  “That’s not the way I choose to see it.”

  “Everyone who has eyes will see it that way.”

  “But what would be wrong for any of these good men to marry a woman of the royal house, no matter how different, who has a dowry, was raised in a gentle life, and has excellent connections?”

  His mother looked away. “If you mean by ‘connections’ the duchesses who compete about the charity they give, I hardly call those ‘connections.’”

  “They are more highly connected than I.” He led her further away so no one would overhear. “And I am interested in their affairs. I wish them success. Miss Standish especially is important to me.”

  His mother stiffened. “Well, I see nothing wrong with you helping them to marry. They will more quickly be out of your house. Miss Standish is a pretty enough girl. She will find a good man, though likely no one of the nobility, who could marry much better.”

  “You’re not seeing clearly. She’s magnificent—”

  Lady Annabelle joined them in that moment. “I didn’t know Lady Morley had come. It is so good to see you.” Lady Annabelle curtsied, and his mother reached for her hands. “It is good to see you too, my dear. I was just telling my Morley here about the merits of marrying well.”

  Lady Annabelle’s eyebrow rose. “Were you? And I missed it? I think I should find such a conversation very entertaining.”

  Lady Morley nodded. “You, for example. You’re such a lovely girl.”

  “Oh, you speak too highly of me.” She linked arms on his mother’s other side. “I’m not much different from anyone else.”

  They caught up to the rest of the group, and Morley caught bits of a conversation between the Duchess of Sussex and Miss Standish.

  “A luncheon will be just the thing,” the Duchess of Sussex was saying. “If you wish it, I shall let your cook know the specific instructions now.”

  “I think that is a wonderful idea. And not to worry about talking to Cook. I shall do so. I know what has been purchased recently, at any rate.”

  “Very good, dear.” The duchess looked impressed, and Morley’s heart grew in pride.

  Then Gerald and Amelia joined them.

  His mother frowned. “And now we are to be set upon by that shopkeeper girl.”

  “Mother, she is the Duchess of Granbury.”

  “But some of us won’t forget her birth. Or the scandal of her parents.”

  “And why hang onto something so trivial and unrelated to your own life and happiness?” Morley was just about ready to leave his mother alone and let her fend for herself.

  He would have raised a hand in greeting and moved to converse with his best friend, but for his concern about his mother’s vitriolic tongue. And then there was the situation with each of the sisters. Who was watching each of them and their interactions?

  June returned at that moment and clapped her hands. “Might I say a word?”

  Everyone quieted.

  “We would love for you all to follow me into the dining hall for a bit of luncheon. We know it isn’t always done, but you are all here and are so good to come for a tour of our home. And we would love to offer a bit of something.”

  From the general increase in noise, the idea seemed to be received with favor. They moved to the room just outside the dining hall.

  Gerald bowed to the Duchess of York, Amelia at his side. “Might I have the honor of escorting Your Grace?”

  She dipped your head. “And might I wish the two of you every happiness? From Frederick as well.”

  He bowed, and Amelia said, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Lord Smallwood bowed to the Duchess of Sussex. Morley’s eyes rose in surprise, and his gaze met Miss Standish’s. He stepped in her direction, but his mother tugged on his arm.

  “We should be next,” she said.

  “Yes, and I am going to escort Miss Standish.”

  “You will do nothing of the kind. What will people think?”

  “Hopefully they will think accurately that I admire her.”

  Lady Annabelle hid a smile with her hand, but her eyes flashed, and Morley couldn’t tell what emotion played across her face. Then he realized he’d be leaving her without an escort were he to offer his arm to Miss Standish.

  Instead he dipped his head. “Forgive me. I didn’t want the hostess left alone, but in so doing, I would be neglecting my duty here.”

  “So dutiful.” Lady Annabelle’s victorious smile scratched at a tender place inside. When she came to his other side and latched onto his arm, he fought against a strong desire to peel her away.

  Miss Standish followed with Lord Weatherby, and the man had already engaged her in pleasant enough conversation that she was laughing.

  Gerald took the head of the table with Amelia on his right. Morley sat at the other end with his mother on his left. He pulled out a chair on his right. “Miss Standish?”

  She lifted her eyebrows, and then Morley almost cheered when the slight pink dusting of her cheeks told him she was pleased. Perhaps she’d forgiven his less-than-warm greeting when he arrived. Lady Annabelle sat at his mother’s side and then Smallwood at her side. He could have hugged Charity for sitting at Miss Standish’s other side.

  The luncheon was expertly presented. Servants delivered a simple fare but in a most pleasing manner. The Duchess of York was beside herself in praise.

  “I commend your idea to have such a luncheon. And the sandwiches are as fine as any I’ve had. Well done, Miss Standish. I knew I bestowed my friendship on a most worthy woman.”

  “Thank you.”

  “The sandwiches are somewhat stale in reality. I would think you could do better with the Morley estate staff.” His mother sipped her wine. “But for a woman who has never had such a responsibility on her shoulders before, I agree. The luncheon is nice.”

  Through smiling teeth, Miss Standish whispered, “Was that a compliment?”

  He murmured in Miss Standish’s direction, “That’s as complimentary as she gets.”

  “Thank you, Lady Morley. Thank you, Your Grace.”

  The group chatted for the rest of the luncheon. Morley only partly listened to anything except June until the guests finished and began to depart.

  When his mother was finally ready to leave—she insisted they outstay both duchesses—he helped her step up into the carriage, closed the door, and turned back to Miss Standish, who stood on the front stoop to bid them goodbye.

  He stepped as close as he dared, lifting her hand to his mouth. Then he
pled with her, “You were wonderful. Lunch was amazing. I couldn’t be more pleased. My mother…she…are you well?”

  Her eyes held as much insecurity as to make him want to encircle her with his arms and kiss away every worry, but instead he waited.

  “I think I am well. Your mother…” She sighed.

  “Don’t let her worry you. I’m Lord Morley.”

  “Of course I’ll worry what your mother thinks of me.”

  “You will? Does it matter to you?”

  She looked down, her lovely lashes lining her cheeks. “It matters a great deal.”

  And that sweet response would have to sustain him, to sate his urge to pull her into his arms again and kiss her senseless. “Will I see you at the ball?”

  “First set and supper.”

  “And every other moment?”

  “Every moment it would be proper…”

  “So I must share you with others?”

  “You must, but I wish it weren’t so.” Her cheeks colored pink again.

  “Until tomorrow, then. I shall leave before I forget myself in front of my mother and give her something real to pinch her lips in disapproval over.”

  She gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I wouldn’t—yet. But there might come a day.” He winked, then dipped his head and stepped away.

  As he climbed into the carriage, his mother shook her head. “Someone has to save you from making a fool of yourself.”

  “If I am making a fool of myself, I happily do so. No saving necessary, Mother.”

  She said nothing more, but he knew he hadn’t heard the last on the topic.

  Miss Standish stood at the front door to their marvelous castle until his carriage turned the corner.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  June stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for her sisters. She’d never felt so beautiful in a dress. To wear something specifically and perfectly fitted to her was a luxury she’d never been afforded until now.

  The duke and duchess entered the main foyer area. Amelia hurried to her. “You look lovely.”

  “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much for these gowns. I had no idea it would look like this. I feel like”—she tried to blink away moisture from her eyes—“I feel like”—she spun—“I feel beautiful.”

  “And you are. Inside that giving and lovely heart as well as outside.” Amelia embraced her. “We shall be here, awaiting the stories of your successes.”

  “I could never thank you enough for all you’ve done for my family.”

  “Think nothing of it. Thank your uncle’s cousin, who passed away and gave the properties to me.” His Grace chuckled.

  Energetic chatter alerted them to the arrival of each of the other Standish sisters. Lucy descended first, then Charity, followed by Kate. Of them all, Kate’s dress seemed to reflect light, it was so stunning.

  She approached, out of breath. “This is the most amazing night of my life.” Charity wore green, and it suited her better than any other color. Lucy was in maroon, and June’s dress was blue. They’d all opted against the debutante white. It wasn’t their Season. They were simply attending a ball they’d been invited to.

  Grace descended last. Her pink dress was a modified ball gown. It better suited a younger girl. But she still looked beautiful and every bit as appealing as the other sisters.

  “Are we certain you should come, sweet?” June looked to Amelia.

  “I am certain I should come.” Her lip started to protrude, but she pulled it back in. “I will be careful. I will dance with no one but Lord Morley and will stay in sight at all times.”

  “Well, that sounds just fine.” She looked around at them all. “Are we ready? I think my sisters will be the loveliest women at the prince’s ball.”

  Charity linked arms. “Shall we?”

  “We shall.” June turned to the front door. The clinking noise of a carriage, the stomping of horse hooves, waited outside. She turned back to the duke. “Thank you for the use of your carriage.”

  “You are quite welcome. To all of it. Though I do think Morley was a bit disappointed not to be fortunate enough to lend the use of his.”

  “But then we’d have to ride with his mother.” Charity made such a face, and June found it so diverting she could not scold her.

  The footman handed them up one at a time. With their gowns, the fit was more snug than last time in the carriage together, but June couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across her face. “I wish I could paint us all like this, so I might remember this moment forever.”

  Charity squeezed her hand. “I think you are the closest of all of us to finding true happiness.”

  “Do you think I’ve found love?”

  “Do you?”

  “I think so. I am truly very happy, sisters. I wish the same for you.”

  “I hear there might be many others at this ball, people from Town and friends of Prince George.” Lucy’s eyes lit with hope.

  “And those we are to avoid. If possible, we shall avoid an introduction to any of Prinny’s set.” June studied their faces. They seemed as excited as she. “But most of all, let us enjoy ourselves. And Grace—”

  “Yes, I know. I mustn’t dance with anyone but our Morley.”

  June smiled at the mention of his name. Morley. Was he to be her Morley? She clasped her hands together because she didn’t know what else to do with them or the energy that coursed through her. “To think, we are at last included in a ball.” Her feet tapped under her skirts.

  They stopped in front of the Royal Pavilion, and even though June had seen it many times from a distance, the entrance alone was far more grand than she had suspected. The bulbous structure with the spindles rose up all around her. The front double doors, gilded, gold, and brilliant, were opened, and the royal servants, in red livery, lined the entrance.

  As soon as they stepped inside, the later-afternoon, early-evening light shone in through the stained glass ceiling to give everything an ethereal pink glow. The walls were lit by hanging lanterns, and the stands were wrapped in dragons, snakes, and leaves. Bamboo seemed to grow from the walls. Soldiers from the orient guarded as statues on either side.

  The sisters were speechless until at last Charity murmured, “I didn’t know Prince George had such beautiful taste.”

  “Frederick Crace is his chief decorator, but I hear the prince had particular requests.” Lucy’s eyes were wide.

  The corridor was long and wide, and June walked slowly. Though she wished to arrive at the banquet and looked forward to the ball, the corridor alone gifted her with much to view, much to appreciate.

  “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” Grace clasped her hands together.

  They followed the line of people ahead of them through the palace, taking in every space, each room more elaborate than the next. June peeked into what was described as the music room and paused in the doorway. Dragons, in what looked like gold, intertwined along the top walls. The deep, rich reds and golds and warm yellows combined to draw the eye in every direction.

  Charity tugged at her arm. “Perhaps we can come see more later?”

  “I do hope we can, for these sights must be seen,” June said in a hushed voice.

  Eventually they were led toward what must be the ballroom, for the sound of the Master of Ceremonies calling out the names of the guests carried over to them.

  When they reached the entrance, June pointed out their names on his list. He announced, “Miss June Standish, Miss Charity, Miss Kate, Miss Lucy, and Miss Grace.”

  Some in the room paused to turn in their direction.

  June looked out over the swirling dresses, the colors, the lovely blue-colored walls, the statues of dragons, the tall replicas of Chinese palaces, and she smiled. And then her gaze connected with Lord Morley’s, and she didn’t see anything or anyone else. He approached from the center of the room, making his way around and through the clusters of people.

  Music began as the instruments were
tuned, and June knew they would be calling the first set soon.

  Loud laughter startled her, and a group of boisterous lords surrounding one overdressed and overweight man walked by.

  “Prince George,” Lucy whispered.

  June nodded, grateful not to claim an acquaintance with him or his friends.

  Lord Morley bowed at her front and reached for her hand. “I believe we have this first set.”

  She curtsied low. “Yes, we do.” She turned to Charity. “Would you find a place for Grace to sit and care for each other?”

  But several other of the lords they’d entertained at the house yesterday bowed over her sisters’ hands, and she knew they would soon be out on the floor dancing. She searched the room, and then her eyes stopped on the Duchess of Sussex.

  “Do you suppose?”

  Lord Morley followed her gaze and then nodded. “I’m sure she would be happy to assist.”

  And he was correct. Her Grace patted the chair at her side and introduced Grace to all the older ladies who sat near.

  Then Morley led June out onto the floor. He smiled and saw only her. When he bowed, his eyes searched her own. When she tiptoed around him, the air between them drew her closer. The longer they approached and then backed away, almost touching but not quite, grasping hands but only for a moment, the more she wanted to slip her hand in his and run off somewhere so they could be alone. She wanted his eyes only on her, his arms around her, and, she was embarrassed to admit, his lips once again caressing hers. She hardly dared think such things, but the desire came unbidden. When she passed him next, her cheeks heated, and he winked. She gasped once she’d passed him. Could he read her thoughts?

  But when their dance ended, she wished it would begin again, for Lord Morley dropped her off with the duchess and went in search of Charity, who he’d secured a set with next. Before he left, he’d pressed his lips to her fingers. “The supper sets and a very long dinner in between will be ours.”