Lady Allerton's Wager

by Nicola Cornick

  ‘We have tried the Port of London and sent runners to Southampton—’ The other man was saying. Both of them broke off when they saw Charlotte and after a moment, to her inexpressible relief, Charlotte saw Trevithick’s expression lighten.

  ‘Mrs Cavendish! Pray forgive me for not receiving you sooner, ma’am! Gower…’ he turned courteously to the other man ‘…excuse me. We will talk again later and I thank you for your help.’

  Charlotte came forward a little shakily as Marcus held the door of the study open for her. ‘Let me send for a glass of wine for you, Mrs Cavendish,’ he said solicitously. ‘You look somewhat done up! What can have put you to so much trouble as to come here in person? Has there been some news of your brother?’

  Charlotte smiled a little shakily. ‘No, sir, I am afraid not. This is far more important. This is to do with my cousin…with Beth—Lady Allerton.’

  She saw Marcus’s expression harden, felt him withdraw from her, and put a pleading hand out.

  ‘Please…’

  She was not sure what was showing in her face but, whatever it was, Marcus’s own expression softened and he took her arm and guided her to a chair. ‘I am sorry, ma’am. Pray do not be distressed. Now, what is it that you wished to tell me?’

  Some ten minutes later, Justin Trevithick called at Trevithick House and was astounded to hear from the butler that a Mrs Cavendish was with his cousin the Earl. Another moment, and the door of the study was flung open and Marcus strode out across the hall, his face set and intent. He checked on seeing his cousin.

  ‘Justin! The very man! Mrs Cavendish is here and I fear I must desert both of you! Pressing business! If you could escort the lady home I should be most grateful, old fellow, but pray leave it for at least a half-hour! I rely upon you to think of a way to pass the time!’ And, without another word, he was gone.

  On gaining the study, Justin found his betrothed sitting calmly sipping a glass of madeira and looking quite pleased with herself. There was a twinkle in her eye as she gave her hand to him.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Trevithick! How do you do?’

  ‘I should be considerably better if someone could explain to me just what the devil is going on!’ Justin said feelingly. ‘How comes it that you are here, Charlotte, and what have you said to Trevithick, to send him off in such a confounded hurry?’

  He thought that Charlotte looked positively mischievous as she replied. ‘I have struck a light,’ she said contentedly, ‘and I am certain it is about to explode into flames!’

  Beth had found the plate of dry toast waiting outside the door and was astonished to discover that it had indeed made her feel better—so much restored, in fact, that she decided there was no point in delaying her preparations to remove to Mostyn. Happily, her trunk was still out since she had not bothered to unpack it from her last journey. She did not think of Charlotte’s reaction to her hasty departure, nor of Kit’s mysterious disappearance, and especially not of Marcus Trevithick. She knew that she would only become odiously miserable if she dwelled on any of them and she was running for home out of simple instinct.

  At first she did not hear the fuss in the entrance hall and then assumed that Gough had called to see Charlotte. After a moment, however, she heard an unmistakable male voice.

  ‘Don’t be so bloody foolish, man! Of course Lady Allerton is at home!’

  Then there was a step on the stair, and the door was thrown open.

  ‘Running away again, my dear?’ the Earl of Trevithick said with silky politeness. ‘It is become quite a habit!’

  To Beth’s eyes he looked both devastatingly handsome and frighteningly unyielding. With her hands full of underwear and the half-open trunk giving her away, she decided to hold her ground. Her heart was beating uncomfortably fast, but she raised her chin defiantly to stare him out.

  ‘Good day, Lord Trevithick! I fear that you find me on the point of departing for Devon—’

  ‘Again?’ Marcus lounged in the doorway, making it quite clear that she was unable to go anywhere. ‘You rocket about the countryside like a dangerously loose cannon, my dear!’ He came forward into the room. ‘I fear I cannot allow it. Not in your condition!’

  Beth lowered her hands slowly. She could feel what little colour she had fading from her face.

  ‘You know!’ she whispered.

  ‘I know,’ Marcus confirmed grimly. ‘Your cousin had the grace to tell me, Lady Allerton, where you did not.’

  ‘She had no right,’ Beth said stiffly.

  Marcus strode over to the window. There was so much suppressed violence in his movements that Beth shrank away. ‘Maybe not,’ he said evenly, ‘but when were you going to tell me, Lady Allerton? Ever? Or was I to hear about my own child from some gossip at a ton party?’

  Beth’s eyes filled with the infuriating tears that beset her all the time. ‘Oh, do not! I did not intend…I just thought that you would insist on marrying me.’

  Marcus raised his eyebrows. He took a deep, impatient breath. ‘Beth, I have been wanting to marry you this past age—’

  Beth’s tears overflowed. ‘You said that we could not be married!’ she contradicted him crossly. ‘You know it is impossible because of Kit’s behaviour to Eleanor! You have only changed your mind because of the baby—’ She broke off, crying too hard to carry on.

  Marcus sat down on the bed and pulled her on to his knee. He took a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and carefully wiped her face, kissing her gently when he was done.

  ‘This is foolish. I never said that we could not be married—’

  ‘Yes, you did!’ Beth burst out. ‘When you were leaving Fairhaven you said that all our plans were changed and our wedding could not go ahead! You said that everything was spoiled for us…’ She gave a huge gulp and fell silent.

  Marcus was frowning. ‘I remember. We did not really have time to talk properly, did we? I only meant that our Christmas wedding could not take place, but I had every intention of rearranging it as soon as I could! I never meant for the engagement to end!’

  Beth gave a doleful sniff. Another tear slid down her cheek. ‘But—’

  Marcus gave her a little shake. ‘Listen to me, my darling. I have had a special licence for the past four weeks—you may check the date if you wish!—and all because I wanted to marry you so much that I obtained one as soon as I arrived in London!’ His arm tightened about her. ‘I did that before all else—before seeing Eleanor, or enquiring into your cousin’s whereabouts, or discussing matters with Gower. It was always the most important thing to me and the fact that your cousin has ruined my sister is irrelevant to our marriage! I do not intend to let him ruin my happiness as well as Eleanor’s!’

  Beth was so astounded that she stopped crying altogether. She borrowed the handkerchief and blew her nose hard. ‘But I thought—Marcus, it is impossible for you to associate with the Mostyn family, with me—’

  Marcus started to laugh. ‘I have already associated with you and I intend to continue to do so at every available opportunity! I love you, Beth! You know that I always wanted to marry you—I was in a fever of impatience for St John to return to Fairhaven, and it was not because I simply wished to see him! When he did not return in time to marry us, and then all my plans were dashed again, I was frustrated and most disappointed!’

  Beth looked at him. Marcus was smiling at her with a gentleness that somehow made her feel quite weak inside. She squashed the treacherous warmth and frowned at him.

  ‘Promise me that this is not simply because I am increasing…’

  Marcus pulled her into his arms again. ‘Oh, Beth, do you doubt me still? I blame myself more than you could know, my darling, for damaging your reputation and exposing you to gossip through what happened on Fairhaven…’ He hesitated. ‘I wanted to marry you almost from the first time we met, when you challenged me to that ridiculous wager.’ He brushed his mouth against her hair. ‘Beth, I am more happy than I can say about the child, but I wanted to marry you long before I
knew. I love you…’

  Later, when she had stopped kissing him long enough to draw breath, Beth said a little diffidently, ‘I thought perhaps that you would not wish to marry me because I was not suitable…’

  Marcus kissed her again. ‘It seems to me that you have imagined every possible or impossible reason to keep us apart! How could you not be suitable?’

  Beth fidgeted. ‘Well, because I…because we—did things together that were not at all respectable—’

  Marcus started to laugh. ‘Oh, Beth, I can see I need to change your view of how married people behave! And you must never think I believe you unsuitable. I love you for your openness and your lack of artifice!’

  This seemed to warrant another kiss. Then Beth drew back again.

  ‘I have been so miserable without you, Marcus! It has been the most unhappy Christmas—’

  ‘We shall make up for it, I promise you!’ Marcus kissed her again.

  ‘But what are we to do about this dreadful situation of Kit and Eleanor?’ Beth frowned. ‘I could not blame you if you damned the name of Mostyn forever!’

  Marcus’s face hardened. ‘My love, I wish your cousin to the devil for what he has done but, as I told you, I refuse to let it ruin my happiness! Justin is in the right of it—we shall end the Mostyn and Trevithick feud and damn the gossips!’

  ‘Passionate enemies and passionate lovers?’ Beth asked mischievously and smiled as Marcus started to kiss her again. She freed herself for a moment. ‘My lord, you mentioned the wager and, strictly speaking, I have still won Fairhaven—’

  Marcus pulled her back firmly into his arms. ‘Wager be damned!’ he said.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-4017-3

  LADY ALLERTON’S WAGER

  First North American Publication 2003

  Copyright © 2001 by Nicola Cornick

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  Visit us at www.eHarlequin.com