Wagering for Miss Blake (Lords and Ladies in Love)

by Hutton, Callie

  “Strange you should say that, since only yesterday m’mother cornered me to make certain I remembered to give her an accounting of the guests I wished her to invite to a house party she is hosting in two weeks. It seems she and my sister have been planning it for months, but I have been remiss in adding names to their list.”

  “Excellent. Please have them add Miss Suzanna Blake and myself.”

  Hawk studied him. “You must be serious about this young lady if you purposely plan to attend a house party. If memory serves, we have all successfully avoided such events for years.”

  Cam stood and stretched. “If you two are going to be subjected to giggling young ladies and marriage-minded mamas for the duration of a house party, you might as well add my name to that list, Hawk. Perhaps, we can sneak off and do some hunting or visit the local pub.” He downed the last few sips of his brandy and placed the glass on the table. “But now I must leave your exalted presence to meet with my man of business. He’s as dry as burned toast, and boring as a blade of grass, but he manages my affairs quite nicely, so I tolerate his demand that we meet at least once a quarter.”

  Giles watched Cam wander the room and exit through the front door. He turned to Hawk. “I’m serious about her, Hawk. She is perfect for me. I’ve always wanted a woman who is gracious, kind, has a brain between her ears, and is not hard to look at.”

  “And in your brief history with Miss Blake you have ascertained all of this—though I admit the not-hard-to-look-at part is obvious.”

  “Yes, I have. It’s real, and I intend to pursue her. You know, as well as I do, that so many of the young ladies coming onto the Marriage Mart are looking for titles, money, and a handsome face.”

  “I hate to drag you back from your comfortable perch up there in the clouds, but I heard your Miss Blake make it clear, at least to Bedford and his wife, that she is interested in marrying only a man with a title.”

  Giles waved him off. “Yes, she said something along those lines to me, too. But nothing about the girl points to such superficiality. I’m quite sure that is a childish dream, similar to a knight-in-shining-armor arriving at her front door on a white steed. A wish that she either has outgrown or will shortly.”

  “You are indeed quite sure of yourself, my friend.”

  “Hawk, when have you ever known me to not succeed at something I set my mind to?”

  Hawk shook his head. “In finance, horses, and gaming, yes, you generally succeed. But you are treading into unknown territory here.”

  “I have no concerns.”

  Hawk slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “I hope, for your sake, you are right, my friend. I, personally, have found women of the ton to be somewhat deceptive while on the prowl for a husband. At least this one is forthright about what she wants. Whether you can change her mind or not, remains to be seen.” He rested his hand on Giles’s shoulder. “Just don’t get in too deep.”

  “Have no fears. I know what I am doing.”

  …

  Suzanna pretended she was not searching for Mr. Templeton as she listened to Lady Selina go on about how certain she was that the Earl of Bartlett was about to offer for her. The entire ton had witnessed the earl’s mother dragging young ladies in his direction for more than a year, yet he’d made it clear that he had every intention of adding many more years to his bachelorhood, despite his mother’s growing consternation. Unless Lady Selina threw herself into his arms in the dark and was caught, Suzanna doubted the earl would offer for her. Even then, he might very well find a way to wiggle out of it.

  The heat of the room, with bodies jammed together, the scent of pomades, perfumes, wax from the candles, and other smells she did not wish to identify, was making her stomach churn. Why hostesses felt it was an accomplishment to claim a “crush” the morning after an affair—simply because they packed in as many people as they could—annoyed her.

  Plenty of the ton’s practices raised her hackles. Her mother’s demand that she wed, not a man, but his title, for one. Families oftentimes arranged marriages based on the groom relieving the bride’s family of crushing debt, usually brought on by wastrel fathers. Old men married young girls in a last attempt at an heir. She shivered at the thought of climbing into bed with someone with wrinkled skin and ice cold hands—old enough to be her grandfather. Hopefully, Mother would not come up with someone like that for her.

  “Good evening, Miss Blake. I am quite surprised I was even able to find you in this crowd.” Mr. Templeton carried two glasses of champagne. “Lady Selina, good evening to you, as well. Would you ladies care for champagne?”

  “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Templeton.” Lady Selina giggled and batted her eyelashes. For someone who just claimed to be practically betrothed to an earl, she certainly seemed quite taken with Mr. Templeton’s attention.

  Suzanna took the glass from his hand and raised it to her lips. The bubbles tickled her skin, causing her to scrunch her nose. “I love champagne, but I wish it didn’t bubble quite so much.”

  “Ah, but that is the appeal. Don’t you agree, Lady Selina?”

  Selina smiled as she took another sip. “Yes. I love the bubbles, myself.” Suzanna had the feeling the girl would love anything Mr. Templeton said. Selina glanced over Suzanna’s shoulder and frowned. Suzanna looked behind her to see Lady Honeyfield, Lady Selina’s mother, bearing down on them.

  “Excuse me,” the girl said. Then, after shoving her champagne glass into Mr. Templeton’s hand, she turned abruptly and headed in the opposite direction.

  Lady Honeyfield skirted Suzanna and Mr. Templeton and continued following her daughter.

  “I wonder what that was all about?” Suzanna said as they watched the two of them play cat-and-mouse across the room.

  Mr. Templeton shook his head. “When it comes to mothers, I try my best to steer clear of them. I have enough trouble dealing with my own.”

  Suzanna couldn’t help but think how grateful she was that her own mother was still in the country. Not that she was happy Mother was sick, but the Season would not be quite as enjoyable were she in Town with her. She was thoroughly enjoying the napping and card-playing Lady Montford as her chaperone.

  “I find I am feeling a bit overwhelmed in this heat. Would you mind escorting me outside for some fresh air?” It was probably not the best idea to ask him, of all people, to take her outside, but she was feeling more and more airless. Damn her stays. The champagne had not helped. In fact, it seemed to make her feel worse.

  “Certainly. You do look a bit peaked. Here, take my arm.” He extended his elbow and she grabbed onto him, thankful for his sturdiness. They made their way through the crowd, trying hard not to stop too often to exchange greetings. Mr. Templeton kept glancing in her direction, and given his frown and tight lips, she most likely didn’t look well. She felt quite ill.

  She stumbled, not sure if it was her feet giving way, or if she was on the verge of fainting. Though she’d never swooned in her life and had no intention of doing so in front of half the ton.

  Mr. Templeton wrapped his arm around her waist, which was inappropriate, but she didn’t care. She wanted only to get outside where she could breathe. He placed his palm on the door and pushed, leading her through. There were groups of people on the patio, and she began to panic, thinking there was nowhere she could go without being surrounded.

  “I need to get away from people.” She barely got the words out, her breath coming in pants.

  “Try to relax; you are working yourself into a dither. We will walk slowly down the path, where there are fewer people.” With his arm still wrapped around her, they made their way past the steps of the patio, along the passage from the house to the garden. As they walked farther from the house, her breathing began to return to normal, and her lightheadedness faded.

  She took a deep breath, wishing she could access more air, but her stays were inhibiting her. Mr. Templeton continued to study her as they walked. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes. I be
lieve I am.” Now that her body had calmed down, she realized he still held her, and the warmth from his body next to hers was causing another sort of disquiet. Here she was in a dark garden, with the man who had kissed her senseless the last time they were together. Would he do so again? Do I want him to?

  She came to a stop and turned to him, so he was forced to release her. “Thank you for the rescue, Mr. Templeton. I was feeling quite poorly, and without your quick action, I might have embarrassed myself by swooning like some silly debutante.”

  He reached out and ran his finger down her cheek. She had the strange urge to turn her head to have his full hand cup her face. “You are no silly debutante. And I am happy to have helped. But I have a favor to ask of you.”

  Oh, dear. She was already on her guard, not sure what to expect next from this man. “What is that?”

  “This.” With that simple word, he swooped in, pulling her close, and he covered her lips with demanding mastery.

  Oh Lord, not again!

  Chapter Four

  At first Suzanna froze at the suddenness of Mr. Templeton’s action. Then she melted into his arms, relaxing into his powerful embrace as his talented mouth consumed her. Her senses were heightened, but not to her surroundings, only to him. His heat, his scent, his possession of her mouth, her body.

  For he did possess her body. As before, her heart thumped, her stomach clenched, and the area between her legs grew moist. The tips of her breasts tingled where they brushed against the stiffness of his coat. She had no control. Mr. Templeton held her body hostage.

  He pulled back and scattered kisses along her jawline, her neck, the sensitive area behind her ear. Almost of its own volition, her head dropped to the side to grant him greater access. The heat between them built, and she longed to feel her skin against his skin, his heat against her heat.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of voices not more than twenty yards from where they stood. As if someone had thrown a glass of ice water over her, she stilled, and the passion she’d been feeling vanished like a puff of smoke. She pulled back and stared at him, incredulous. “What are you doing?”

  “I think that is obvious.” His smirk was the very thing she needed to come completely to her senses.

  “Is that your plan, then? To have us caught in a compromising situation so I have no choice but to marry you?”

  His grin faded, and his brows drew together. “No. I do not cheat. I intend to court you and win your hand. Not by perfidy, but honestly.”

  She shoved him away, straightened her clothing, then patted her hair. “Well, I believe it is a bit fortuitous that you assault me in a dark garden soon after voicing your intention to speak with my father.”

  Despite the poor lighting, she could not miss the tightened lips and the snap of his eyes. “First of all, I did not assault you, and from your reaction to my so-called assault, you were certainly not in distress, but rather an active participant.”

  She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “I believe we should return to the house.”

  “Of course.” He gave her a stiff bow and offered his arm. “Just to be clear on something, Suzanna.”

  Her insides knotted at the intimacy. “I did not give you leave to use my given name.”

  He did not acknowledge her setdown but continued. “When I want something, I do everything in my power to succeed. Except deceit. I will win you fairly and honorably.”

  Still reeling from the effects of his kiss, she was only too glad to leave the dark part of the garden and return to the rout. How very foolish of her to allow him to walk her that far away from the gathering. If anyone noticed them enough to comment, she didn’t hear it. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  Then his words when I want something, I do everything in my power to win brought her up sharp. She’d already learned his kisses were powerful, and apt to make her forget herself—and her mother’s admonishment.

  The best way to discourage Mr. Templeton was to avoid him as much as possible. With the Season in full swing that would not be easy, but if Mother learned of Mr. Templeton’s interest in her, there would be hell to pay.

  Mr. Templeton had made it clear, more than once, that he did not accept discouragement. Or defeat.

  If possible, the rout was more crowded than when they’d left. She couldn’t bear to suffocate in there again. She turned toward him. “I believe I will attempt to find Lady Montford and request we return home.”

  Apparently, he saw something in her demeanor as his eyes swept over her face. “Do not distress yourself. I will find Lady Montford and request your carriage be brought around. Stay out here, next to the well-lit area, and I will return when all is ready.”

  Despite herself, she could not help but notice his broad shoulders, trim hips, and long legs as he passed through the French doors and made his way among the clusters of guests. Even his gait conveyed confidence and power. As she watched him stop to speak with Lord Stirling, she admired the curls that teased the back of his cravat. Much longer than fashionable, but perfect on him.

  Whatever was she to do? She couldn’t ask her new cousin-in-law, the duke, to speak with Mr. Templeton about his intentions. She cringed at the thought of asking His Grace to discourage his friend because he didn’t have a title. It would make her look so shallow.

  If only she weren’t attracted to the man. Then she could easily dismiss him and slap his face if he attempted to kiss her again. In the past, she’d had no trouble discouraging other would-be suitors. A small voice inside her head scoffed—she did not want to discourage him. That was the problem. But she would, since Mother would be livid if she learned of his intentions.

  She sighed. What a dilemma he’d caused her, and once again she bemoaned the life she lived in Society. After about ten minutes, Lady Montford came through the French door. “My dear, are you all right? Mr. Templeton said you weren’t feeling well.”

  Suzanna linked her arm with her chaperone. “It’s just a bit too packed in here for me. Ever since I was a small girl and got lost in the overcrowded marketplace, I’ve been unsettled in large crowds. I feel much better now, but I prefer to return home.

  “However, I don’t wish to spoil your evening. I can take the carriage by myself and send it back for you.”

  “No, dear. I won’t allow that. Mr. Templeton is requesting our carriage to be readied, and it should be at the front of the house by the time we make it through this throng. Truth be known, I would enjoy some time at home with his lordship.” She winked at Suzanna, reminding her that Eunice and her husband had a love match. Eunice tugged slightly on their joined arms, and they moved through the crowd to the front entrance.

  Mr. Templeton stood there, and as soon as he spotted them, he walked forward, concern in his eyes. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes. I am sure I will be fine once we are on our way.”

  Lady Montford smiled warmly and held out her hand to Mr. Templeton. “Thank you so much for your help this evening. Do call on us during our calling hours tomorrow. We will be delighted to see you.”

  “Thank you, my lady. I will definitely be there.” With a slight bow, and a grin at Suzanna, he turned and left.

  Wonderful. Just what I need. Lady Montford taken in by Giles’s charm.

  …

  The next afternoon, Giles straightened the cuffs of his jacket as he stepped out of his landau in front of Suzanna’s house. Even if she did not allow it spoken aloud, he would think of her as Suzanna and not Miss Blake from now on.

  After her reaction to their kiss last night, he was thrilled with his progress, and firmly believed her insistence on a title was questionable. She may say she wanted only a man with a title, but she truly didn’t believe so.

  “My lady, Mr. Templeton,” the butler announced, and Giles entered the drawing room. Lady Montford offered him a huge smile, and Suzanna scowled. He held in his laugh and headed straight to the two women.

  “My lady, you are looking splendid, as
usual.” He bowed over his hostess’s hand, then turned to Suzanna. “Miss Blake, a pleasure.”

  “I am so happy you called, Mr. Templeton.” Lady Montford waved her hand in Suzanna’s direction. “Won’t you have a seat next to my cousin, and enjoy a bit of tea?”

  He flipped back his coattails and settled next to Suzanna on the sofa. The woman on Lady Montford’s other side, Miss Grant, said something to his hostess, gaining her attention. Giles used the distraction to lean closer to Suzanna. “You are looking much improved from last evening. And aren’t you happy I came to call?”

  She raised her cute little chin and regarded him. “It matters not to me whether you call or not. As I told you, your attentions on me are wasted.”

  He reached out and took the cup and saucer from Lady Montford, nodding his thanks. She resumed her conversation with Miss Grant.

  “If I recall, you’ve stated an interest in attentions only from a man with a title.”

  Suzanna gave him a tight smile. “That is correct. So, you see, your attentions are superfluous.”

  Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. Her delectable breasts rose and fell rapidly. He loved when he rattled her. Anger and denial, he could work with. Apathy and indifference would be deadly to his cause.

  Instead of continuing their repartee, lest someone overhear it, he smiled, attempting to disarm her. Raising his voice, he said, “I am given to understand you have received an invitation to Lady Hawkins’s house party next week.”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it abruptly, apparently not expecting the change of subject. She glanced at her lap and smoothed her skirt. “Yes, I believe so.”

  “Excellent. I look forward to seeing you.”

  “Are you behind this?” she hissed.

  He had to swallow his grin at her suspicious tone, then raised his brows and placed his palm on his chest in mock horror. “Surely you don’t think my consequence—me, a mere untitled man—is such that I can persuade Lady Hawkins to host a house party on my behalf?” He shook his head. “Undoubtedly you jest, Miss Blake.”