The Wagered Heart: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix)

by Rhonda Woodward

“What rubbish,” his grandmother stated roundly.

  He sent his grandmother a grim smile. “Actually, it is not rubbish. Amazing that the tattle mongers left that bit out.”

  “Bless me!” His mother finally managed to gasp. “You cannot expect people to tell me to my face that my son is part of this sordid tale.”

  He strode to the door. Once there, he turned back to his relatives. “It is not sordid. At least not on Miss Allard’s part. Please understand this completely, Miss Allard did not kiss anyone. I kissed her.”

  His grandmother opened and closed her mouth like a caught fish, before asking, “Whatever for?”

  “Because I am a selfish libertine, and she was the loveliest creature I had ever beheld. Now I shall be going out. I may be some time, but I request that you not leave this house until I return. When I do, I will have much to discuss with both of you.”

  A short while later, as he rode his chestnut gelding through the quaint streets of Bath, the events of the last few weeks became clear to Kel.

  He now understood Julia’s oddly changeable behavior. When he had first apologized to her at Sydney Gardens, then met her again by chance at Lady Farren’s tea, he had found her coolness toward him understandable—even admirable, for her behavior had been free of the vaporish drama that many women of his acquaintance would have displayed.

  She was obviously self-possessed and intelligent. Also, there was a certain lack of vanity, yet acceptance of her beauty, that he found honest and appealing.

  Then came Lady Farren’s ball. The only reason he had agreed to escort Emmaline was that she had accused him of pacing around like a panther. He had been bored, and an evening out would occupy some time.

  When he had watched Miss Allard crossing the room, he had fully expected her to again direct those beautiful, cool gray eyes right through him as she had done before. Instead, the sudden, unexpected warmth of her gaze had surprised him—and stirred his blood as well as his curiosity.

  It did not take him long to suspect that something was brewing beneath the surface of her sphinxlike beauty.

  In the middle of the rainstorm, when she had all but admitted that she had been blatantly teasing him in an attempt to exact revenge, he had dismissed part of her anger as embarrassment over Haverstone’s thoughtless and shocking pronouncement.

  Now, after the information his mother and grandmother had just imparted, he had a clearer understanding of Julia’s actions.

  Arriving at Haverstone’s rented townhouse, he ignored the butler and strode straight to the library.

  He found Haverstone, Alton, Morton, and Mattonly lounging around the dark-paneled room, with loosened neckcloths and half-empty glasses.

  “It’s Kel,” Haverstone drawled with pleasure. “‘Bout time you came around, Your Grace. Dreadfully early to be imbibing, but it’s the only thing that has held our interest since descending upon this deadly dull place. Pour yourself a whiskey and join us.”

  Kel stood in the middle of the room as the others lifted their glasses to him in an indolent greeting.

  “No, thank you, Haverstone. I am here on an important matter.”

  At this statement, Lord Alton pushed his pudgy frame into a sitting position on the window seat. “I say, Kel, the last time I saw you look like this, someone got hurt.”

  Kel did not respond and turned his gaze to each of his friends before he spoke. “Well, my fine-feathered idiots, you have done a grand job of helping me make a muck of things. Although it is undoubtedly too late, I intend to try to repair the matter. I expect all of you to help me.”

  Silence held the men for a moment as they stared at Kel in surprise.

  “Well then, men,” Haverstone began, his drawl vanished. “Put down your glasses and let’s bend an ear to our friend.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “I am immensely proud to be in the company of the two loveliest ladies in all of Bath,” Uncle John said as he escorted his wife and niece into the ballroom.

  Julia did her best to smile at her uncle’s compliment as she scanned the assemblage for Mariah.

  “My, I forgot how lovely this room is,” Aunt Beryl said, obviously excited about the prospect of a ball.

  Since her aunt and uncle’s arrival yesterday, there had been little time for serious conversation. For that, Julia was deeply grateful. Only once did her aunt and uncle show concern over Julia. During dinner last night, Aunt Beryl had gazed at Julia curiously. “You are awfully quiet, my dear. Is all well?”

  “Of course,” Julia had said with forced cheerfulness over her glass of wine. “I suspect I am a bit fatigued from the round of entertainments I have been attending. I am so glad you are here. I have missed you both very much.”

  Her relatives had smiled in response, and the conversation had continued without any more references to Julia’s unusually quiet demeanor.

  Now, in the midst of the crowded, noisy ballroom, Julia prayed that nothing would occur to renew their questions.

  Espying Caro and Clive nearby, Julia felt a hint of relief. If her friends and family surrounded her, the prospect of getting through the evening was not so daunting.

  “There you are,” Caro called as she and Clive approached. “Now, Aunt Beryl, Uncle John, you must join every dance so that you may get your fill, for you will not have any entertainment so fine in Chippenham.”

  “We intend to, niece,” Uncle John said jovially, looking quite elegant in his formal black evening wear.

  Due to Aunt Beryl’s last-minute decision to change from a lovely, raw silk, russet gown to a creamy yellow gown with a matching feathered toque, they were late and the music had already begun.

  The little group stood together watching the other guests perform the graceful, measured movements of a quadrille. Julia forced herself to breathe normally.

  Standing at her uncle’s side, she fiddled with her fan and surreptitiously glanced around the room.

  Alarm bells went off in her mind as she saw several clusters of people looking in her direction and obviously whispering behind their fans and programs.

  Caro must have noticed, too, for she sent Julia a quick, concerned glance. Casting a swift look to her aunt and uncle, Julia was relieved to see nothing but enjoyment in their expressions.

  But to her dismay, she saw Clive’s expression grow more grim at every passing measure of music. Since the night of the party, it had been apparent that his opinion of her had changed greatly.

  The arrival of Mariah and Mrs. Thorncroft was a welcome diversion. As the greetings went around, Julia exchanged a speaking look with her friend. The concern beneath Mariah’s smile was obvious to Julia. She gave an inward groan and prayed again that this evening would pass quickly. In just a few days, she would be able to return home with her aunt and uncle to nurse her bruised heart.

  Why her heart should be bruised was a matter she forced herself not to examine.

  Aunt Beryl and Uncle John joined the next dance, a minuet. Clive kindly asked Mrs. Thorncroft for the honor, leaving the three friends in relative privacy.

  “Not to worry, Julia. There are a few whispers going around the room, but I doubt there will be a repeat of what happened at my party,” Caro said as soon as the others were out of hearing range.

  “I just hope my aunt and uncle will not notice anything amiss.”

  “They are enjoying themselves too much to be aware of a few gawks and whispers.”

  “Let us hope my mama-in-law does not locate us in this crowd. She is likely to say anything.”

  “Heavens! I forgot about your mama-in-law.” Now Julia was truly worried.

  Twenty minutes later, a flushed and happy-looking Aunt Beryl and Uncle John rejoined their nieces. Pleasant talk ensued of how talented the orchestra was and how skillful the dancers were. Julia was more than content to allow the conversation to flow over her.

  From across the room, she saw Mr. Dillingham weaving his way through the crowd in her direction. She lifted her chin slightly and stiffened
her spine. The look on his face after Lord Haverstone had made his shocking pronouncement was still fresh in her mind.

  “Here is Mr. Dillingham! Now, there is a graceful dancer,” Caro said without thinking.

  Aunt Beryl and Uncle John turned to see whom Caro was referring to, when the gentleman sent one cold glance to Julia and walked past without so much as a nod.

  “What a dreadful man! Never say you have an acquaintance with such a boorish creature,” Aunt Beryl said, gazing after Mr. Dillingham in surprise at the obvious slight.

  Uncle John frowned. “I hope that is not an example of Bath manners.”

  “Er…no, indeed. I cannot imagine why he behaved so,” Caro offered.

  By then, the very perceptive Aunt Beryl began to notice that Julia was upset. “My dear? Is something amiss?”

  “No, Aunt. Do you think it is rather warm in here?” she said breathlessly, hoping to change the subject.

  To her surprise and dread, she saw the duke’s sister, Lady Fallbrook approaching. Everyone turned in surprise when the lady said, “Good evening, Miss Allard. I was hoping to have the pleasure of your company tonight. How do you do, Lord and Lady Farren?”

  Thankfully, instinct took over, and Julia was able to introduce the rest of her companions. She knew that her aunt and uncle could not help but admire the lovely lady, who was exquisitely garbed in a deep green gown with emeralds and diamonds at her ears and neck. Lady Fallbrook appeared in no hurry to leave, and to Julia’s further surprise, her mother, the Duchess of Kelbourne, joined them a moment later. The duchess seemed just as pleased to stay.

  Julia caught Aunt Beryl’s glance. The expression on her face showed how impressed she was with Julia’s grand friends.

  Again, Julia made the introductions, and a pleasant conversation ensued. After Lady Fallbrook and the duchess finally left the little group, Aunt Beryl turned to Julia excitedly. “What delightful acquaintances you have made! Such grace! Such ease of manners!”

  Julia was enormously relieved that neither her aunt nor her uncle seemed to make the connection between the duchess and the man who had accosted her last year. It was astounding to Julia that those two illustrious ladies would deign to seek her out so pointedly, especially now.

  However, there were more surprises for Julia. Moments later, the duke’s grandmother sailed toward her from across the room.

  Looking every inch the duchess, the dowager gazed imperiously at Julia and the others as they all curtsied or bowed before her.

  “Miss Allard, you may present your friends to me.”

  With a slightly shaking voice, Julia did so. For once, even her unflappable aunt and uncle looked nonplussed.

  Completely ignoring everyone but Julia, the dowager said, “I hope you have noticed that my daughter-in-law and granddaughter have paid you a great compliment.”

  “Why, yes, Your Grace.” Julia gazed at the older lady in complete confusion.

  “And as you can see,” she continued, “I have walked across the room to speak with you. This is something I have not done for anyone since before I was married.”

  “I am very aware of the honor you are bestowing…”

  “Yes, yes, yes.” The dowager impatiently waved away Julia’s words. “I shall continue to converse with you for a few minutes longer. I certainly hope you will know how to behave in the next half hour, Miss Allard.”

  Exchanging shocked glances with Mariah and Caro, Julia could only wonder if the dowager duchess was a touch off her head.

  As good as her word, the dowager stood with them, making idle small talk about the weather before taking her leave some minutes later.

  “Good gracious! What next?” Caro asked everyone in general.

  “Something odd is afoot,” Aunt Beryl said in a mystified tone.

  Suddenly, the familiar strain of a popular melody filled the room. The crowd began to murmur in surprise and confusion.

  “That is not a waltz, is it?” Caro asked on a gasp.

  “I do believe it is,” Mariah responded, just as surprised.

  “But the Master of Ceremonies does not allow waltzes,” Mrs. Thorncroft stated, frowning up at the orchestral alcove.

  The wide expanse of floor was empty of dancers. The murmurs grew louder as the confusion spread. Mrs. Thorncroft was correct, Julia thought, gazing around in confusion. The waltz was still considered quite scandalous and was never played at an assembly ball in stuffy Bath. What on earth was happening, she wondered.

  An audible gasp rose in the room, and Julia turned her gaze to see the dowager Duchess of Kelbourne take the floor with the Earl of Haverstone. Despite the vast difference in their ages, they instantly began to move in graceful accord counterclockwise around the parquet.

  A moment later Lady Fallbrook and Lord Mattonly joined the dowager and Lord Haverstone. Next came the Duke of Kelbourne’s mother and the less adroit Lord Alton.

  Julia felt her jaw slacken in surprise. Of the hundreds of people filling the ballroom, exactly three couples were dancing. The fact that the dancers were the highest-ranking personages in the room only added to the general surprise and speculation.

  At the edge of the floor, Julia caught sight of the Master of Ceremonies, Mr. King, looking quite red in the face and mopping his brow with his handkerchief. Next to him, looking grim but calm, was the Duke of Kelbourne.

  A feeling of near faintness assailed Julia, and she gripped Mariah’s arm for support.

  “I see him,” Mariah whispered. “I suspected he was behind this.”

  “But why?” Julia whispered back, her heart suddenly thumping into a heady gallop.

  To her utter shock, the duke began to stroll across the floor toward her. His intense gaze found hers, holding it until he was upon her.

  In a tone of voice several dozen people could easily hear, he said, “Miss Allard, would you do me the honor of joining me in this dance?”

  Something in the way he gazed at her caused a frisson of heightened awareness to travel up her spine. What could he be about, she wondered, gazing up at him in mystification.

  The thought to decline his request swirled in her confused mind. Surely, only more pain could come from this.

  You, my dear Julia, are a hypocrite. His words came to her again. Suddenly, she could no longer deny the truth of them.

  Unheeding of her aunt and uncle, or anyone else, she dipped into a brief, graceful curtsy.

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said in a tone of quiet simplicity.

  The look of surprise that briefly flashed across his features caused her to wonder even more at his actions.

  He held out his hand, and she placed hers in his firm grasp as he led her to the floor.

  For a brief, panic-stricken instant, Julia could not recall how to waltz. She need not have worried, for as soon as his hand went to her waist, she was easily able to follow his lead.

  As he guided her through the first turn, he said, “I must admit that I am astounded that you agreed to waltz with me.”

  Lifting her eyes from the snowy folds of his beautifully tied neckcloth, she met his piercing gaze. “Then why did you ask me?”

  “My desire was to afford you the satisfaction of giving me the cut direct in front of everyone. I thought the best way to call attention to the slight was by arranging a waltz.”

  Julia could only stare up at him in stunned silence at this pronouncement.

  “Having said this,” he continued, “I am grateful that you have given me this opportunity to offer you my deepest—and most regrettably late—apologies for all that I have caused you to suffer this past year.”

  At the simple sincerity in his voice, Julia felt heavy tears clog her throat.

  They continued to swing in graceful rhythm for a few measures as the avidly curious guests looked on.

  “I can only say, by way of explanation, not excuse, that I left London almost immediately after our encounter and had no notion that my friends had been looking for you. I also did not know that t
he people in your village would have seen your unexpected return from London as something suspect. I confess that I never gave it any consideration. I no longer wonder that you dismissed my apology out of hand—it was insufficient to the level of insult I handed you. Although I apologized, my selfish want was to assuage my feeling of guilt for accosting you. I now completely understand your…unique way of repaying me.”

  The grimness of his tone galvanized a desire in Julia to say something to lighten the dark expression on his handsome features.

  “Since I could not challenge you to pistols at dawn, I came up with the only means at my disposal,” she managed to say.

  His face was still grim despite the strained smile that came to his lips.

  “The weapon of feminine wiles is sharper than any sword—I have learned a lesson I shall never forget. I owe you a deeper apology for accusing you of hypocrisy. You were very correct in your assessment of my arrogance. Who am I to judge your behavior when my own has been unpardonable?”

  Silence held them again as Julia digested his words while they continued to dance in perfect, graceful harmony.

  “But I have been a hypocrite,” she finally said, lifting her gaze to his.

  The sudden, inexplicable change that came over his face caused her heart to skip a beat.

  The music faded to silence. They came to a halt, and the duke drew her hand through his arm. As he escorted her back to her family, he looked down at her and said, “Miss Allard, I…”

  “Julia, I believe it would be best if we returned to the townhouse.” Her uncle’s firm voice cut through the duke’s softly spoken words. “I believe we have much to discuss.”

  Before the duke had completed his bow, Julia was being led from the ballroom, flanked by her uncle and aunt.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “B ut you do not understand,” Julia stated, facing her uncle with defiance for the first time in her life.

  He continued to pace, while she stood in the middle the room. Aunt Beryl looked on from the sofa with concern.

  “Then explain to me what it is that I do not comprehend,” Uncle John said in a tone of great patience.