Wagering for Miss Blake

by Callie Hutton

  “Ah, darling.” He smoothed back the curls that had escaped from the braid hanging down her back. “I don’t want to leave, trust me on this, but we shall do this right.” With another kiss that almost made him change his mind, he took her hand. They slipped out her bedchamber door and hurried down the back stairs.

  He closed the door behind him and listened for the sound of the lock engaging. Once he knew she was safe inside, he left, much happier than when he’d arrived.

  …

  Early the next afternoon, Giles prepared for the most important meeting of his life. He intended to secure both Mr. and Mrs. Blake’s approval. He would work hard at it, taking however much time was necessary. No longer expecting things to go his way simply because they always had, he was going into battle for the woman he loved.

  With no intention of having a marriage where there was animosity between him and his in-laws, he would earn their respect and approval.

  He tugged on the cuffs of his jacket and dropped the knocker on the front door of the Montford Townhouse. The door immediately opened, and the butler stepped back. “Good afternoon, Mr. Templeton. I believe Mr. Blake awaits you in the library.”

  Giles raised his brows. Mr. Blake awaited him? Was that good news, or bad? Before he had too much time to dwell on it, he found himself entering the library behind the butler. Mr. Blake stood and walked toward him extending his hand. “Good afternoon, Mr. Templeton.”

  Giles looked around the room, but there was no one else present except him. Dear God, hopefully they hadn’t already sent Suzanna away!

  He took the seat that Mr. Blake indicated next to the fireplace. “Would you care for refreshments?”

  “No. Thank you.” Since his reception was a bit of a surprise, a glass of brandy would be welcomed, but that would certainly make a poor impression.

  Mr. Blake leaned back in his chair. “I assume you are wondering how I knew you were expected?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Mrs. Blake never partakes of breakfast. She prefers a tray in her room closer to noon.” He stopped and regarded Giles as if he expected him to respond. What was one supposed to say to that? So, he merely nodded, hoping the man would continue.

  “Consequently, Suzanna and I have breakfast alone most days. Lady Montford sometimes joins us, as well as Lord Montford. They did not today.”

  Mr. Blake did not seem to be nearing his dotage, so Giles assumed he was eventually going to come to the point and not just comment on the eating habits of the Montford household.

  “My daughter and I had an interesting conversation this morning at breakfast.”

  His muscles tightened. At last, the man was going to address the question of why he’d been expected. Again he nodded, to show he heard the man, even though he had no idea what, if any, retort he was expecting.

  “I sometime enjoy a warm glass of milk if I cannot sleep.”

  Uh, oh. Giles now went on alert at the mention of not sleeping. Eventually, he was sure Mr. Blake would tie all these random observations together and most likely hang Giles by his bollocks. Or order him out of the house to meet at dawn with his second.

  “I find a brandy before bed helps me sleep.” Giles felt he should contribute something to the surreal conversation, instead of sitting there like a lump of coal. If he was going to be run off the place, and most likely banned for life, he might as well speak up.

  Before Giles could gather another intelligent thought, Mr. Blake continued. “So, it was with a great deal of surprise when I went to the kitchen last evening and found you and my daughter tip-toeing down the corridor, past the kitchen to the back door. And then, you slipped out the door, and she locked it.”

  Giles tamped down the need to run his finger along the inside of his cravat. Maybe level-headed Cam could be his second and talk the man out of a duel. Giles was an excellent shot and killing Suzanna’s father would not be the best way to start their marriage.

  Mr. Blake sat back, resting his arms on the softly padded armrest. His bland expression was worse than if he’d looked enraged. “Perhaps you can enlighten me as to why you were in the house last night after we had all retired for the evening?”

  …

  Suzanna tossed aside the book she was pretending to read. She’d heard Giles arrive, and could only guess what he was going through with Father. She’d been stunned when Father had casually mentioned at breakfast that he hoped she had enjoyed her visit with Mr. Templeton late the night before.

  It had taken all her control to not bring back up the breakfast she had just swallowed. “Whatever do you mean, Father?” She did not think for one minute that Father would fall for her innocent act, but she needed time to gather her thoughts.

  He merely raised one eyebrow. How does he do that?

  “I assume you saw us?”

  He nodded. And waited. Suzanna panicked.

  “I know it looks bad, but it was quite innocent…”

  Both eyebrows rose.

  “We needed time to speak in private.”

  Father sighed. “Suzanna, whether it was innocent or not, it was improper, reckless, and had your mother seen you, I would have been forced to endure weeks of female hysteria. Bad for the digestion, you see.”

  She’d said nothing after that. There didn’t seem to be anything to say.

  Her father leaned forward. “When Lord Pemberton withdrew his attentions, I assumed we would see a great deal of Mr. Templeton, which would grieve your mother, and therefore, greatly disrupt my life. However, he seemed to disappear, until he showed up at our house last evening, accompanied by my daughter, dressed in her night clothes.”

  She’d closed her eyes and wished herself to the other end of the earth. “What do you want me to say, Father?”

  Resting his chin on his thumb and index finger, he studied her. “Do you love him?”

  She did not hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Does he love you?”

  Again, no hesitation. “Yes.”

  “You do realize I will have an extremely difficult time convincing your mother that marrying a man without a title is acceptable?”

  Her eyes flew open, and her heart thudded in her chest. Was he going to permit her to marry Giles? Unable to form a complete sentence, she nodded.

  Father nodded and picked up his newspaper. “I will send for him.”

  “He intends to call upon you today.” Was that her voice squeaking like that?

  He opened the newspaper and began reading as if they’d not just had the most momentous discussion of her life.

  Still continuing to pace in her room, she listened for the sound of shouting, fisticuffs, or furniture breaking. Father was not a pugilist, but she had no idea how angry he was. He’d seemed amenable to accepting Giles’s offer, but one never knew what someone else was thinking. Even one’s own father.

  About a half hour after Giles had arrived, a scratch at her door had her hurrying across the room. “Miss, Mr. Blake requests your attendance in the library.” Bessie didn’t look distraught, so hopefully she did not have to deal with too much blood, or more than a few broken bones.

  With her heart pounding and her stomach in knots, she raced down the staircase. When she arrived at the library door, she stopped, smoothed back her hair, took a deep breath, and entered the room.

  Both men stood as she walked toward where they sat in front of the fireplace. A quick glance at them told her they were uninjured. In fact, they smiled at her. She took the seat next to Father, across from Giles.

  “You sent for me, Father?”

  “Yes. It seems your mother’s lifelong plan to have you wed a man with a title has come to an end.”

  She tried hard to hide her smile, but it forced itself out when she looked at Giles. The only way to describe his expression was the cat who got the last of the cream in the entire house. “Dare I hope you have given your consent to Mr. Templeton?”

  “I have.”

  Throwing herself across the open space into Giles’s
arms was not the reaction she knew Father would want to see. Wrapping her dignity around her like a fine silk shawl, she nodded briefly. “Good.”

  “Just a moment.” Giles took in a deep breath and turned toward Father. “There are no words to describe how overjoyed I am that you have approved my offer for Miss Blake’s hand. However, I would prefer to be the one to convince Mrs. Blake that this is the best thing for her daughter.”

  Both Suzanna and her father stared at Giles as if his head had just spun around his neck.

  Her father chuckled. “My dear Mr. Templeton, trust me when I say you do not want to engage my wife in a discussion about my daughter’s choice of husband.”

  “I understand it might be a difficult thing. But I do not want to start my marriage with dissension between my wife and her mother. Please allow me time to persuade Mrs. Blake.”

  Father shook his head. “You are truly a brave man.” He tapped his finger against his chin, studying Giles. “Very well, I will permit you to do whatever it is you think will work.”

  “Excellent. I would like to invite you, Mrs. Blake, and Miss Blake to dinner next Thursday.”

  “At a bachelor’s home?” Father asked.

  “No. I will write to my mother this very day and send the missive by special post. I will have my parents, the Earl and Countess of Wexford, open their townhouse here in London, and the countess will host the dinner there.”

  “You are so certain of your mother’s assistance, then? Next Thursday is a mere ten days off.”

  “Mr. Blake, are you acquainted with any mother who would not do everything in her power to see one of her offspring wed? My mother is no different, I assure you.”

  Father grinned. “You make a valid point. Very well. I shall await your invitation.”

  …

  Giles began his campaign the very next day to win over the exceedingly stubborn Mrs. Blake. He arrived with a small bunch of violets—Mrs. Blake’s favorite flowers—a bright smile, and a compliment for the woman. At first, she was cold and almost rude. When he did not give up, she seemed to thaw a bit, but no one seeing them together would assume she felt anything but dislike for him.

  He danced attendance on her at every social event at which they were present. He tracked Suzanna and her mother down at Gunter’s and bought them ices, then strolled with them as they walked along, looking in store windows. He’d never worked so hard in his life to gain a smile from a woman, but the more she resisted him, the more resolute he became to earn her good will.

  At the Malford ball, he asked Mrs. Blake’s permission to dance with Suzanna. He fetched her lemonade and champagne. He took every opportunity to mention his father, the earl, his mother, the countess, and his elder brother, the viscount.

  Suzanna spent a great deal of time laughing behind her fan.

  “Don’t laugh, I think she’s beginning to like me.”

  Suzanna laughed harder.

  Using the Duke of Bedford’s box, he escorted Suzanna, Mr. and Mrs. Blake, and Lord and Lady Montford to the theater. He fetched drinks and walked with the ladies around the lobby during intermission. He smiled, nodded, and fetched more drinks. He returned to the carriage to retrieve Mrs. Blake’s shawl when she said she was chilled.

  Finally, at home, he collapsed on his bed. Exhausted.

  The evening of the dinner hosted by his parents had arrived, and Giles admitted to himself this was truly the most difficult thing he had ever done. For some reason, that thought strengthened his determination.

  Earn it, lad.

  Five days after he’d sent his missive by special delivery, his parents and two younger sisters, Alexa and Marie, arrived in London. His mother patted him on the cheek after climbing from her carriage, and all he’d seen of her since then was the back of her head, her arms waving as she gave instructions. Father kept himself closeted in the library.

  Mother became a whirlwind of activity. The skeletal staff at their townhouse was quickly increased, and before long, the house had been cleaned, aired, and every surface polished. Mother and Cook spent hours working out the menu, while Marie and Alexa were set to arranging flowers from the well-kept garden.

  Anytime Giles arrived to see the progress, he was shooed away with instructions not to return until Thursday evening. As much as he had wanted to escort Suzanna to his parents’ townhouse for the dinner, he bowed to Mrs. Blake’s wishes that she travel with her and Mr. Blake.

  Here he paced in the library, his father looking relaxed and enjoying the brandy. “Son, if your mother has any say in this, when this dinner is ended, Mrs. Blake will welcome you with open arms.”

  “Ah, Father, you have no idea with whom we are dealing. The woman has insisted Suzanna marry a man with a title since she was barely out of nappies.”

  “’Tis true I don’t know Mrs. Blake, but I know your mother. Anyone who stands in the way of one of her children’s happiness has no chance of success.”

  The sound of the knocker, and Marvin, the footman, greeting their guests, drew their attention. “Where is Mother?”

  Father stood and clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax, lad. She has it all under control. I have great faith in my countess.”

  Giles straightened his cravat, pulled on the cuffs of his shirt, and left the library. Lord and Lady Montford, Mr. and Mrs. Blake, and Suzanna all stood in the entrance, handing over bonnets, shawls, and hats. Mother held both Mrs. Blake’s hands and chatted as if they were old friends.

  Score one for Mother.

  Giles had no idea what had been served for dinner, because all his attention was focused on Mrs. Blake and his mother. He’d never met anyone who had not fallen under his mother’s spell once she put her mind to it, and to his great relief, it appeared Mrs. Blake had succumbed, as well.

  At fifteen and seventeen years, his sisters joined them for dinner, their manners impeccable, their contribution to the conversation delightful. Mother’s regal air, and Father’s social consequence, left no doubt in anyone’s mind that even though their son held no title, he was a man of consequence, himself.

  They all gathered in the drawing room for tea after the men had enjoyed their port, while Giles had suffered, waiting to join the ladies.

  Once everyone had their tea and the plate of tarts and biscuits had been passed around, Mr. Blake stood and cleared his throat. “I would like to take this opportunity to thank the earl and his countess for a wonderful dinner.” He turned to Mother and Father who sat side by side on the settee near the large window, their hands clasped. “Mrs. Blake and I are very happy to make your acquaintance, my lord, my lady.”

  He turned and looked directly at Giles. “And we both wish to congratulate our daughter and Mr. Giles Templeton on their betrothal.”

  Checkmate.

  Epilogue

  Giles strode to the window, looked out at the rolling hills of his country estate, then paced back to the door of his bedchamber, his hands clasped behind his back. He repeated the action several times as he awaited a summons from Mildred, the new lady’s maid Suzanna had hired, to let him know his bride was ready for him. The flaps of his banyan billowed out as he turned in one direction, then the other.

  It had been a hasty wedding, soon enough to keep Giles from absconding with Suzanna and heading for Gretna Green, but distant enough from the signing of the marriage settlements to—almost—appease Mrs. Blake, who insisted on a wedding worthy of a woman who was not marrying a man with a title, but was nevertheless the son of the lovely Earl of Wexford and his charming countess.

  The marriage ceremony itself had been attended by his parents and siblings, Cam, the Duke of Bedford and his duchess, as well as Lord and Lady Montford. Strangely, Hawk had disappeared from his cousin’s estate, and no one seemed to know where he had gone.

  Close to a hundred guests attended the wedding breakfast following.

  The way Mrs. Blake had behaved, flitting from guest to guest, and gushing over her daughter’s marriage, one would never know how hard Giles ha
d worked to garner her approval.

  A light scratch at the door drew his attention. “Sir, Mrs. Templeton is ready.” Mildred’s voice broke into his thoughts, speeding up his heart.

  He opened the door partway. “Thank you, Mildred. Mrs. Templeton will summon you in the morning when she is ready.” He did not want to be awakened and pulled from his bed by a maid. He had plans to make love to Suzanna throughout the night.

  “Good night, Mr. Templeton.” She dipped a curtsy and left.

  He downed the rest of the brandy he’d poured himself earlier and walked through his dressing room to the door to Suzanna’s bedchamber. After tonight, they would have no need of two bedrooms. He had full intentions of sharing a bed with his wife. No typical ton marriage for him with Suzanna in one chamber and him in another. She could decorate her bedchamber the way she wanted, but she would sleep in his.

  Suzanna stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasped together. Her glorious golden hair had been brushed to a glow, cascading down her back, and over her breasts. She licked her lips and took a deep breath. His eyes were immediately drawn to her breasts and then down her body.

  Her fine muslin white nightgown, with pink roses embroidered along the neckline and hem, was practically transparent as she stood in front of the burning fireplace. His cock came to immediate attention.

  He made his way across the room and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You are so beautiful, Suzanna, you take my breath away.” Bending his head slowly, he placed his lips on her warm, plush ones. He opened his eyes, and she gazed back at him with such love it filled him with warmth. Which soon turned to a burning desire to make love to her, make her his in every way.

  “Come.” He held out his arm, and she placed her small, delicate hand in his large one, still staring at him. Once they reached her bed, he kissed her. Again, she stared directly at him.

  “Would you care for a small drink before bed?”

  She nodded her head so fiercely, he feared it would fly off her shoulders. It appeared despite their earlier intimacy and her enthusiasm at the time, she now viewed their coming activity with trepidation.