The Wagered Heart: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix)

by Rhonda Woodward

Without uttering a word, Julia walked the length of the table to the French doors. Wincing at a flash of lightning, she opened the door and stepped into the storm-swept garden.

  Chapter Twenty

  W ithin seconds of stepping into the garden, Julia was soaked. Squinting into the driving rain, she looked around for a place to shelter.

  Instantly, she recalled the folly in the far corner of the garden. It was built in the style of a miniature Roman ruin, with four columns and an open work lattice roof with trailing vines. Gathering handfuls of her sodden gown, she lifted it enough so that she could run across the lawn with ease.

  By the time she reached the folly, her slippers were oozing with mud and her gown clung to her in heavy wet folds.

  Leaning against one of the stone pillars, she looked up at the vine-covered lattice that acted as the roof. It afforded little protection from the downpour, but she did not care. Staying one more second in the salon was an intolerable thought.

  Pushing away from the pillar, she wrapped her arms around her waist and moved to the bench. Sitting down on the cold stone, she looked back toward the townhouse. The draperies were open on the long windows on either side of the French doors. The light spilling from the windows and the full moon glowing through the rolling clouds, kept her haven from being enveloped in darkness.

  Good heavens! What had she just done? Raising her cold wet fingers to her cheeks, she could not prevent a horrified laugh. What a shocking mess she had left Caro to deal with.

  Leaving was better than staying to endure more of the duke’s friends’ cutting comments, she thought angrily.

  However, there was no escaping the truth that this was truly a dreadful situation. It was bad enough to have people whispering about her in Chippenham—at least no one had known exactly what had occurred in London. But now…she shook her head in despair.

  “Now what?” she said aloud, lowering her hands to her lap.

  “You took the words out of my mouth.”

  At the sound of his deep voice, Julia jumped up to stare at the duke in utter shock. Even the thunder suspended its fury for a moment.

  The rain had plastered down his hair, and his cravat hung in damp folds. The brooding concern so obviously etched on his face gave her a moment’s pause.

  “Julia, please allow me to apologize for my friend’s crass behavior. I know this must be embarrassing…”

  “Embarrassing? Do you think I care?” she said, well aware of the ring of false bravado in her tone. The look of surprised confusion on his face gave her a brief flicker of satisfaction. “I am beyond being embarrassed by what you did that day in London, Your Grace.” She pushed a wet strand of hair off her cheek with a quick, angry gesture.

  He moved away from the pillar and took a stride closer. “I can understand your anger…”

  Her harsh laugh coincided with a flash of lightning. The patter of raindrops grew louder on the stone floor.

  “I am all astonishment at how understanding you are. It is rather amusing really—just when I decided to quit this game, your boorish friends arrive,” she said with a bemused shake of her head before continuing. “Please spare me your understanding.”

  He stood before her in silence. Another crack of thunder illuminated the garden, and for a split second, his frowning, chiseled features were revealed in stark detail.

  “You decided to quit this game,” he repeated, his voice had the beginnings of a slight edge. “So the truth is finally beginning to surface. I confess you have held my interest with your so-called game. It has been amusing to guess what you will do next—one day you seem as if you wish to challenge me to fisticuffs, the next you are willingly in my arms.”

  “Oh, that? Heavens, that was just a lark. You know all about larks, don’t you, Your Grace?”

  Her breath caught as she strained to see his face. Finally the words were out, and she hoped they had drawn blood.

  Clenching her rain-damp hands to her sides, she waited for his reaction. Watching him closely, she saw his eyes narrow slightly as he shifted his weight so that his legs were braced shoulder width apart.

  “So that’s the way of it. You have been playing a very cool game. I am curious as to what happened to change your mind since our regrettably innocent kiss at Sydney Gardens. Or did you just lose your nerve?”

  Julia took note of the sarcastic emphasis he had put on the words “regrettably innocent.” With a searing flash, her ire rose anew. “No, just my interest.”

  Her anger was even more piercing because his words rang true. She had lost her nerve, but not the way he meant. With a clarity that shamed her, she realized that her courage to exact revenge failed her because she had been foolish enough to become attracted to him.

  As the rain continued to beat down upon them through the inadequate lattice roof, she realized that she did not feel the least bit of satisfaction at having lashed out at him.

  Gazing up at his face in the clouded moonlight, she saw the barely concealed anger beneath his polished surface. “Congratulations, Julia. I would never have wagered that a green girl from the likes of Chippenham could have bested me in this kind of game.” His amused drawl was in stark contrast to the cold look in his eyes.

  A deep chill settled in her heart as well as her body. Staring up at him, she was aware that she felt more defeated than triumphant.

  “You are truly amazing. Your arrogance is so all encompassing that you cannot see what your actions have wrought. Foolish of me to expect more from an unmitigated rakehell.” Anger and disappointment joined the chill in her heart.

  His next step brought him within inches of her, but Julia held her ground.

  “What of you? Do you think nothing has come of your actions?”

  “Of course. I should have stayed well clear of you. If I had, I would not be the object of scandalous speculation at this moment.”

  His broad shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug. “You put too much store in the power of gossip. The opinion of a few inconsequentials in Bath matters little.”

  “How very easy for you to say. You set the rules in your world. In mine, I must follow the dictates of Society or suffer the consequences.”

  “Indeed? Have you been following these dictates while you have been in Bath?”

  At his smooth perceptive tone, she looked away. She was glad for the relative darkness, for she felt the heat of a blush coming to her cheeks.

  “No,” she finally admitted reluctantly.

  “Is it not more fun this way?”

  Her gaze flew back up to his face at the gentle amusement that now laced his voice. Blast him! She would rather have died at that moment than to admit that he was right. Even if her behavior had not been so very shocking, she had found it exhilarating to flout propriety. And he knew it.

  “I am sure it is fun for you, but not for those you leave in your wake.” Sparing a second, she wondered why she felt sad instead of angry.

  Rivulets of icy water ran down her neck and between her shoulder blades. Now the thunder and lightning flashed and cracked almost simultaneously as unseen black clouds virtually obliterated the moon glow.

  The dim light from the dining room windows revealed him only in a shadowed outline. His nearness was causing very strange things to happen to her breathing. Why had he followed her? Why did he not go away? The feeling of being on the verge of losing control gripped her in a tangle of confusion.

  “Our acquaintance has been amusing while it has lasted, Miss Allard. But I would hate for it to end with your opinion of me ruined.” The sarcasm dripped from his words.

  As he stepped closer, a tingling physical response shot through her body.

  He was going to kiss her again, she realized instantly. As his arms went around her rain-soaked body, she did not resist. She was only aware of the same feeling that had come over her as she had stood alone with him in the alcove at Sydney Gardens. Breathless at his nearness, she allowed her body to remain pliant as he lowered his face to hers.

&n
bsp; The cool rain joined their warm lips in a sensual melding as almost unconsciously she pressed her body against his. Her resentment and confusion joined with this new, nameless emotion. Why did she want to kiss him when she also felt like slapping him? These hazy thoughts faded into a swirl of passionate sensations as his arms tightened around her.

  Almost before it began, the searing ardor of his kiss was cut short as he released her and stepped away.

  She could barely make out his features as she swayed before him, feeling suddenly bereft and bewildered.

  He spoke, but it took her a moment to comprehend his harshly whispered words.

  “I may be a rakehell, but you, my dear Julia, are a hypocrite.”

  And then he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “L ud, Julia, I wish you could have seen the look on the faces of Caro’s guests! If I had not been so worried about you, I would have laughed.” At Julia’s pained expression, Mariah hastened to add, “How terribly mean of me. Of course it’s not a laughing matter.”

  “Not to worry, I have somehow managed to find the humor in the situation,” Julia said in a flat voice.

  Lying on the damask-covered chaise in the sitting room adjacent to Caro’s bedroom, Julia continued to sip her tea. She had not touched the little sandwiches on the tiered tray, nor had she eaten very much since Caro’s ill-fated party two nights ago.

  Seeing Caro and Mariah, seated across from her on a pretty settee exchanging a look of concern, Julia tried to rally her usual good spirits. Her efforts met with little success.

  “I must say, Mariah, your mama was ever so helpful after Julia made her precipitous exit,” Caro stated.

  “I was quite surprised myself,” Mariah replied, reaching for another watercress sandwich. “After the duke followed Julia from the room, everyone just stood there, dumbstruck. Suddenly, Mama spoke up and asked Lord Haverstone if he had any news of London and Princess Charlotte’s impending nuptials. She spoke in a perfectly normal tone, and I wondered how on earth she managed it.”

  Julia smiled faintly as Mariah continued her observations.

  “It was rather astounding to watch you sweep out of the room, Julia. Everyone was completely confused, because no one else had heard what Lord Haverstone said. I do give you much credit for holding your chin high and not rushing. Then the duke said something to his friends before going out as well. But Mama kept chattering away in a perfectly droll manner until the butler announced dinner.”

  Nodding, Caro set her cup and saucer down. “I was so grateful to have those few moments to gain my composure. Dinner was quite odd. Everyone began to chatter, but no one referred to Julia or the duke—not even his friends.”

  “I am so sorry, Caro, I hope you can forgive me. I know how much the party meant to you,” Julia said. The shadows beneath her gray eyes were evidence of the stress she felt.

  “My dear Julia, I believe I would have done the same thing. Besides, everyone had a marvelous time. People love to have something to gossip about firsthand.”

  At that moment there was a knock at the door. Caro’s lady’s maid entered and handed her mistress a folded piece of paper.

  After perusing the note, Caro rose with a look of chagrin. “Excuse me for a few moments, I must have a word with Cook.”

  After the door closed, Julia gazed at her friend, feeling inexplicably and utterly sad.

  “I find myself in an impossible situation,” Julia told Mariah quietly.

  “Sadly, I must agree with you. I confess that I am shocked that the duke is still in Bath. I saw him driving with his sister yesterday. His friends—how shockingly arrogant they are—swagger around town looking bored and superior. Why don’t they go to London or Brighton? They are as out of place here as a monkey in church.”

  Despite the pain throbbing in her heart, Julia laughed at her friend’s analogy.

  “Only you could make such a comment at a time like this. I do wish I could just go home. But I have no hope of it, for with Uncle John feeling better, he and Aunt Beryl have decided to resume their trip to Bath.”

  “I thought you missed them.”

  “I do! But I want to go home—not have them come here! The last thing I wish to do is try to explain to them what has occurred since coming here. It is going to be unbearable because Aunt Beryl says she shall not be content until she has danced. So we are all to go to the Upper Rooms on Thursday.”

  “I would not be too concerned. The duke has not made an appearance at the Upper Rooms since coming to town.”

  “I am not really concerned about the duke. All the people who were at Caro’s party cause me to shake in my slippers. This is dreadful. My aunt and uncle have been nothing but loving and supportive. I know how the gossip about me hurt them. It will be so much worse now that there is something solid for people to gossip about.”

  “Yes, it is all quite shocking. But your aunt and uncle will understand.” Mariah’s tone was soothing and kind.

  “You will just have to follow my mama’s example and behave as if nothing has happened,” Mariah advised. “With your cool pale beauty, you have always had the enviable ability to appear unruffled. I will be at the assembly ball with you, as will Caro and Lord Farren.”

  Julia groaned aloud. “Goodness knows what Caro told Clive. He has been polite, but I have the feeling that he does not know what to think of me anymore. The ramifications of that kiss seem as if they will follow me forever.” In so many ways, she added to herself. “I will get through these next few days, and then I shall go home. I must get away, I must try to forget everything that has occurred.”

  Leaning back against the cushions, she turned her gaze to the window that faced the back garden. The early afternoon sun shone brilliantly on the stone folly, and Julia recalled how she had stayed there in the rain after the duke had left her. “I may be a rakehell, but you, my dear Julia, are a hypocrite.” The harshly spoken words still reverberated through her being.

  With an attempt to push away the heartsick pain, she turned to her friend, and with false brightness said, “What are you going to wear to the Upper Rooms?”

  Upon returning to the townhouse after a bruising ride in the open country beyond the limits of Bath, Kel was met in the foyer by his grandmother’s stoic butler.

  “Their Graces desire your presence in the drawing room, Your Grace.” The hesitation in the old servant’s voice was no doubt due to Kel’s black expression.

  Brows raised in surprise, he handed the man his hat, gloves, and crop before striding to the room where his relatives were waiting. They were seated facing the doorway in obvious anticipation of his arrival.

  After making a passable leg, he moved to the fireplace where he leaned a forearm on the marble mantel.

  “It must be something serious if the two of you are sitting here in perfect harmony waiting for me. And where is my sister? I am surprised that she is not here as reinforcement,” he stated, his deep voice laced with amusement.

  “Emmaline, for some reason, wanted no part of this and has gone shopping. Millicent and I are in accord because of our concern for you,” his grandmother stated firmly. “Please be seated, Wenlock.”

  His mother gestured to the chair near the fireless grate. “Yes, my dear, sit. You know we have never interfered in your affairs before, yet…” His mother’s voice faded to a nervous little laugh.

  “Yet, this time, something quite serious has come to our attention,” his grandmother completed for her daughter-in-law as she stared at her grandson closely.

  Moving to the chair, he met his grandmother’s gaze. “Indeed? Please assuage my curiosity. You have my complete attention.” He struggled to keep his tone polite, while cursing himself anew for not leaving this blasted town after the Farrens’ party.

  He lowered his tall frame into the chair and waited. The ladies were silent for a moment. His grandmother looked grim and his mother plucked fretfully at the fringe of her shawl. Then, by some unspoken agreement, his grandmother
took the lead.

  “Under normal circumstances I pay no heed to idle gossip. But when it is repeated by several trustworthy persons and is so closely connected with a member of my family…well, I cannot remain silent.”

  Kel stifled a weary sigh at his grandmother’s dramatics. “I am waiting patiently to hear this dreadful gossip.”

  “It has come to my attention that Miss Allard, whom I admit thoroughly took me in with her pleasing ways and good humor, is quite beyond the pale.”

  Kel’s posture immediately stiffened, and his gaze narrowed slightly. “Go on.”

  “I have heard that your own good friend, Lord Haverstone, claims that he has witnessed Miss Allard kissing men on a public street in London! A delightful woman I recently met at the Pump Room confirmed this information. Mrs. Marsh is from Chippenham and confided in me that Miss Allard, though from a fine and respectable family, has been the subject of speculation in her village for more than a year. Evidently, she was sent home from London because of her shocking behavior.”

  “Good God,” Kel gritted out. “What else have you heard?”

  The older woman gestured for his mother to continue. Gazing at her son with concerned brown eyes, she shifted uncomfortably in her chair before speaking.

  “Well, I was told that Miss Allard was sent to Bath to escape a scandal because she behaved badly in London. I was also told that she was the subject of some sort of wager. I know you have spent some time with Miss Allard, so we thought it best that you should be informed,” she said, sending her son a gentle smile.

  “No one told you of whom she was accused of kissing on the street in London?” Kel asked sharply, his gaze moving from one lady to the other.

  “No, but that hardly matters,” his grandmother said with a shrug.

  “It does.” His tone was harsh as he rose from the chair. “What the gossips who were so eager to spread misinformation did not inform you was that I am the man she is accused of kissing.”

  The ladies jaws dropped in unison.