The Wagered Heart: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix)

by Rhonda Woodward

  After a final adjustment to her small-brimmed bonnet, she took a deep breath and left the room.

  As she made her way downstairs toward the main salon, Julia decided that it was for the best that Clive had taken Caro off to make calls and visit his mother. If Caro had stayed, Julia feared that she might say something indiscreet in front of the duke.

  As a child, Caro had always been cautious and, because of her mother’s tutelage, had a keen regard for the dictates of Society and was excessively attentive to all the proprieties.

  Even this morning Caro had not been shy about cautioning Julia to behave prudently. Realizing that Caro was truly anxious about the duke, Julia had done her best to assure her cousin that her behavior would be all that was correct. Caro’s expression showed her skepticism, but she had said nothing further on the matter.

  For his part, Clive was no end pleased that the Duke of Kelbourne was calling on his guest. “Ho, ho, Cousin Julia, it is certainly a feather in your cap to have the duke pay you such marked attention.”

  Julia had affixed a smile to her lips. Oh, yes, I’m so flattered that a proclaimed rakehell has shown me such condescension. “I shall see you both at dinner,” she had called to them as they left.

  Upon entering the salon, she swiftly took in the room. Would it be better to stand in front of the window or be seated on the settee next to the vase of irises? The window, she decided, hurrying across the room, fearing the duke would be announced before she could position herself to the best advantage.

  With her back to the door, she twisted this way and that until she felt satisfied that she was in the proper pose. She wanted the duke, upon entering, to see her gazing out the window, which overlooked the back garden, in an artless manner. This way, he would be met by the left side of her profile. When they had conspired together on Tuesday, Mariah assured her that her left side was her most attractive.

  Despite the intense pounding of her heart, Julia felt a welcome sense of confidence. Her time with Mariah had put her at ease, and with her friend’s support, Julia knew without shame that she would relish the revenge she now believed she was capable of exacting from the insufferable duke. It was, she reminded herself, only what he deserved.

  The door opened, followed by the butler’s sonorous announcement. “His Grace, the Duke of Kelbourne.”

  Instantly forgetting to take her time, she turned her head to see the duke filling the doorway. His disturbingly perceptive eyes instantly locked on hers.

  For all her careful planning, she was not prepared for the unabashed air of masculinity that suddenly filled the room.

  Lud, but he was attractive, she thought, so distracted that she forgot to present her profile.

  Crossing the room, he doffed his hat before taking her hand in a brief salute. “Miss Allard, I thought the day was bright, but your beauty outshines the sun. And punctual as well? What other unexpected delights shall I discover as I come to know you?”

  This was it, she thought, giving him her best smile. Just what she hoped for, a perfect opening to try one of the mildly provocative double entendres she had practiced on Mariah. His tone was so smooth, so laced with languid amusement that she fairly itched with the desire to take that overly confident expression off his face.

  “Ah…thank you, Your Grace. May I offer you a refreshment, or would you rather not keep your horses standing?” She froze at hearing her own words. Horses? Am I actually speaking of horses?

  “Thank you but no, Miss Allard. If you would not mind departing now, my cattle have been restless this afternoon.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” Of course? She almost rolled her eyes at her missish behavior as she moved past him to the door. To her complete dismay, all the witty comments she had practiced seemed to have vanished from her brain.

  Once outside, she saw a pair of chestnut Thoroughbreds prancing impatiently, the boy at their heads seemed to be having a difficult time controlling the magnificent animals. To her surprise, they where hitched to a phaeton with bright red wheel spokes. She had not seen such an elegant vehicle since her brief stay in London—and never one with red spokes.

  Julia halted next to the vehicle. She had never had the occasion to ride in a high-perch phaeton, and wondered how one climbed up with any poise.

  Smoothly, the duke stepped next to her and, with a firm hand on her elbow, helped her up onto the conveyance. Walking around to the other side, he stepped up with ease.

  Settling next to Julia, he picked up the ribbons before tossing a coin to the delighted boy.

  With a quick flick of the reins, they shot forward. Smiling, Julia put a hand up to steady her bonnet. It was a novelty to be so high above the road.

  Despite the dismal failure of her initial attempt at beguilement, she decided to give it another try. “What a wonderful conveyance this is, Your Grace. I feel as if we are flying. Is it terribly difficult to handle?” She batted her eyelashes at him, careful to heed Mariah’s warning not to overdo it lest she appear as if she had a speck in her eye.

  He shot her a grin. “Not to worry, I have not tipped it over yet.”

  Unable to hold his gaze, she made a show of looking at the passing scenery. It was a glorious day, with strips of vivid blue sky between the rows of townhouses as the duke expertly tooled the phaeton through the narrow, cobblestone streets.

  “My, you certainly handle the ribbons well.” If outright flirting seemed beyond her ken, then mayhap fawning interest would suffice.

  For her efforts, he tossed her a look that was rife with amusement. “Thank you. I thought it would be pleasant to drive to the Orange Grove.”

  “Oh, how lovely.” Zounds, I sound like the veriest loon.

  Desperation grew as she fruitlessly tried to think of something else to say that would further her cause. How did one go about being fascinating and alluring? she pondered, biting her lip.

  When she and Mariah had discussed how Julia would behave with the duke, it had seemed so simple. Somehow, they had gotten it wrong. This was certainly going to be more difficult than Julia had imagined. Everything she said made her feel like a vapid ninny.

  They turned onto a wider lane, and she realized that what she had not anticipated was the effect his presence seemed to have on her senses. Something about the knowing, slightly amused gleam in his eyes almost choked the practiced words of flirtation in her throat.

  But she was not ready to give up just yet. She was not going to throw away this unexpected chance to make him pay for that kiss.

  For the moment, she would refrain from saying anything else that sounded silly. Being the niece of a soldier had taught her something about strategy. When she met Mariah for tea later, they would have to reassess her methods.

  “What sorts of things do you enjoy doing in Chippenham?”

  She paused, using the fact that he was making another turn to consider her reply. It certainly would not help her appear fascinating or alluring to tell him of the pleasure she took in teaching children to read and write, or how she helped in the planning of the annual church bazaar.

  “Oh, we have a merry time of it at home. Parties and picnics and amusements of all sorts. May I ask where you reside, Your Grace?” This was not the most creative thing to say, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that she was very new to this flirting business.

  “My family home is in Kent.”

  “I have not had the pleasure of visiting that part of the country, though I understand it is beautiful.”

  “It may be said that I am partial, but I think the Vale of Kelbourne is the most beautiful place in all of England.”

  The note of sincerity in his deep voice was unmistakable, and caused Julia to glance at him in surprise. His open emotion regarding his home did not mesh with her conviction that he was a shallow libertine.

  She could think of nothing to say in reply. For all her careful practicing with Mariah and her determination to win the duke’s affection by whatever means she had at her disposal, Julia f
ound herself frustratingly mute as she sat next to the duke.

  Settling back against the butter-soft leather squabs, she berated herself for her sudden loss of confidence.

  For his part, the duke seemed to find nothing amiss in her behavior, and he continued to make polite conversation.

  After he steered the phaeton around a Bath chair, they entered the picturesque Pulteney Bridge.

  A veil of unreality settled over Julia. For a full year her anger and resentment of this arrogant man had colored her life—to the point that he had no longer seemed real. But here he was, flesh and blood and effortlessly charming.

  In the cool light of day, and without Mariah to join in her fantasy of revenge, Julia began to feel her plan of affixing the duke’s regard was ill planned at best. Not that she intended to give up—it was inconceivable to set aside a year’s worth of anger just because she was suddenly unsure how to go on.

  Besides, there was something so assessing, so aware in the warm chestnut gaze he directed at her, she now was sure that he would instantly see through her efforts if she did not have a care.

  Glancing again to the duke, she noticed for the first time something unyielding and implacable in the strength of his features. There was a stubbornness to his square chin and a sharp intelligence in his gaze that she had not previously taken into account.

  Their brief encounter last year had given her the false impression that he was a dissipated libertine. Since she’d come to Bath, it was exceedingly clear that there was nothing dissipated about the Duke of Kelbourne. He was vital, handsome, and completely at ease with himself.

  Because of the information Caro had passed on about his mistress—the mistress who had named the ruby he had given her after him—Julia began to feel that her feeble attempts at capturing his attention were laughable in comparison. She should have considered the fact that he lived in a sophisticated world far removed from her own.

  Until she came up with a better plan, she felt unaccountably relieved to cease this inane lash-batting and simpering.

  “May I ask how you are enjoying your time in Bath, Your Grace?” Now that she had settled her mind, she suddenly found her tongue.

  Before answering, he cast his whip with such precision that the tip barely flicked his cattle’s haunches.

  “It is a fine town with much to admire, and I own I am fascinated by the excavation of the ancient Roman artifacts.”

  Smiling to herself at this diplomatic statement, Julia was struck by what he had left unsaid.

  “But what of amusements and culture? Surely Bath pales against the bright allure of London?” The culture of gaming, she thought cynically.

  “It is certainly not as lively as London, and a decent card game is scarce, but for all that, I’m finding my stay in Bath diverting.”

  At his mention of gambling her brow arched up. She could not let this comment pass. “Being well aware of your fondness for wagering, I am astonished that you would not find the poor gaming here reason enough to seek more exciting pastures.”

  Apparently, her blatant reference to his reason for kissing her last year startled the duke considerably; his horses actually lost their rhythm for a few strides. He cocked a brow in her direction and did not hide his surprised amusement. “My dear Miss Allard, you are a deep one. Here I thought, by unspoken agreement, those few moments on Bolton Street would not be brought up between us.”

  “You mistake me, sir. I was only referring to your love of gaming.”

  “And the only reason you have any knowledge of my so-called love of gaming is because I told you the ridiculous reason I stopped you that day.”

  She gave him a breezy nod. “Yes, that is true. And I am glad that you did. I was much relieved to know that you were fulfilling the terms of a wager. You see, for a year I assumed that you must have escaped your keeper.”

  The duke’s deep laugh set the gooseflesh rising on her skin. “So, you prefer that the man who accosted you be a profligate gamester instead of just harebrained?”

  “Would not you?” She found herself smiling back at him. At least he had the grace to call himself a profligate gamester.

  They reached the Orange Grove, and as they pulled to a stop, Julia noticed a number of fashionably dressed people strolling among the perfectly aligned rows of trees.

  A boy darted forward, kicking up gravel, asking the “gov’ner” if he wanted his horses held.

  “Aye, lad, they should be spent enough for you to handle.” The duke tossed the boy the ribbons and leapt agilely from the conveyance and then came around to assist Julia.

  As she stood, she caught sight of the beautiful view of the ancient edifice of Bath Abbey, its majestic gothic spires rising high above the town.

  Suddenly, Julia was pleased to be out-of-doors, even if it was in the company of the duke. Oddly, he did not seem so much like an enemy today as he solicitously helped her from the phaeton.

  Once she reached the ground, he did not let go of her hand. Instead, he pulled it through the crook of his elbow as he led her to the walking path.

  “Well, Miss Allard, now that you are assured I am not a half-wit, I propose that we walk in the sunshine and continue to get to know one another.”

  Something in the lazy confidence of his manner set her back up. “For people who shall be acquainted a short time, I am of the opinion that it is much better—and more interesting—to remain a mystery to each other.”

  His left brow arched. “Indeed? How singular. Why?”

  “I have found that the occasional dance or walk in a park is quite enough between mere acquaintances. Often, any more than that causes the parties involved to grow bored with the inadequate glimpses of character that are revealed in so short a time together.”

  They walked a number of yards before he replied. “This opinion intrigues me. You do not believe that it is possible for some people to gain a true knowledge of each other in a short span of time?”

  “Not for a deep or lasting friendship, Your Grace.”

  “Hmmm. So, you propose that we stroll along and discuss the weather?”

  “That sounds perfectly agreeable.” To her surprise, she quite enjoyed teasing him in this dry manner.

  “Sounds deadly dull if you ask me.”

  “Compared to high-stakes gaming, I am sure it does. But some of us may have had enough excitement, and a quiet walk may be an adequate form of entertainment.”

  Slowing his gait, he looked down at her, a speculative light entering his eyes. “Ah, I have the measure of you now. Making veiled references to having too much excitement maintains the air of mystery you just alluded to. Well done, Miss Allard.”

  “How vexing of you to read something into my words I did not intend.” She smiled softly to soften the rebuke.

  “I beg forgiveness. I believe I have been vexing enough to you.” He grinned and gave her a slight bow. “So, has not the weather been uncommon kind to us of late?”

  Glancing up at the tease in his voice, she met the warm humor in his brown gaze. Drat the man, what did he truly know of how he vexed her?

  “Yoo-hoo! Kel dear, over here!”

  The duke stopped at hearing his name, and Julia turned to see two women and a young man approaching. The older woman waved a parasol; the younger lady was very pretty, with light brown hair, dark blue eyes, and a slim elegant carriage. Julia had to stop herself from staring at the gentleman, for she had never seen such a vibrant fop. His lime, yellow, and red-striped waistcoat was the most vivid thing she had witnessed since coming to Bath.

  Turning to the gentleman, Julia was a little startled to note that he was staring directly at her with the oddest expression. An inexplicable feeling of dread spread over her in a barely concealed shiver.

  The three were upon the duke and Julia in an instant. The older woman spoke first. “Kel, why did you not tell me you would be here? Oh, it matters not. You will never guess whom I have found. Of course you can guess, silly me, for they are right in front of you.
Look! Lady Davinia and Lord Mattonly have come to Bath! Is it not delightful?” On this breathless note, the lady gestured to the younger people next to her before turning curious eyes to Julia. “Kel, you may present this young lady.”

  Julia did not know what to make of this vivacious, attractive little woman, who reminded her of Mariah’s frisky little terrier.

  “Maman, I would like to present Miss Allard.” The duke turned to Julia. “This is my mother, the Duchess of Kelbourne, and our very good friends, Lady Davinia Harwich and Lord Mattonly.”

  Julia curtsied, but before she could voice a greeting, the duchess was off again. “Miss Allard? I do not believe we have met. Tell me, how do you know my son?”

  “We were introduced by mutual friends, Maman.” The duke put in smoothly before Julia could respond.

  Lord Mattonly frowned at this statement, his eyes still on Julia. “What? Here in Bath? I say, Miss Allard, did we not meet in London last year? ‘Pon my word, you do look familiar to me.”

  Julia opened her mouth to disagree, when a sudden memory of four men following the duke across Bolton Street, before he kissed her last year, flashed into mind. She felt her cheeks growing hot as her mind grasped the fact that Lord Mattonly had been one of those men.

  Chapter Thirteen

  J ulia’s arrested expression and flushed cheeks caught the duke’s attention. Frowning, he shifted his gaze back to Mattonly.

  He realized it would not take long for Matt to recognize Julia as the young woman Kel had kissed in London. It would not do to have his wagered kiss brought up at this wholly inappropriate time. For now, until he could gain a moment of privacy with Matt to tell him to put a stopper in it, he would have to take the situation in hand.

  Stepping smoothly into the breach of silence, he sent Julia what he hoped was a reassuring smile and said, “Yes, I believe you were in London last Season, were you not, Miss Allard? Quite possible you and old Matt met at some crush or other.”

  “Yes, I was in London for a short time last year.” Shaken that the duke’s friend could so easily expose her in front of the duchess and Lady Davinia, her resentment flared anew at the injustice of it all. For even though she was a complete innocent in the matter, she would be the only one to pay for the duke’s lark.