A Foolish Wager (The Spinsters Guild Book 4)

by Rose Pearson

  A Foolish Wager

  The Spinsters Guild

  (Book 4)

  By

  Rose Pearson

  © Copyright 2019 by Rose Pearson - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document by either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective author owns all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Prologue

  “Lady Amelia, come down from there at once!”

  Lady Amelia did nothing but giggle and climb higher, choosing quite firmly to ignore the anxious voice of her governess. She had climbed this particular tree on many previous occasions and certainly was not about to stop doing so now!

  “You must desist!” her governess called, now sounding both angry and upset. “Your father will be greatly displeased.”

  Amelia grimaced and placed her hand on a higher branch. She knew very well that her father, the Earl of Stockbridge, was not at home at present and certainly would not care about what she had been doing given he showed her very little interest. She reminded him too much of her mother, who had died giving birth to Amelia some twelve years ago.

  “Please!” her governess called as Amelia climbed higher, with an even greater determination than before. “Do stop, Lady Amelia. You must come down.”

  Amelia said nothing, holding onto a firm branch and swinging one leg up and over a thick branch she fully intended to sit on. From this height, she would be able to see across the whole estate and, if she continued to ignore her governess, might find a few minutes of enjoyment.

  Unfortunately, Amelia’s skirts and petticoats—which she had done her best to sweep out of the way of her feet—decided not to do as Amelia wished. They chose, instead, to become entangled, meaning she could not easily lift her foot up and over the branch.

  Her breath caught, her hands tightening on the branch whilst her other foot teetered on the thinner branch below. Her foot was well and truly caught, and she could not let go of her grasp on the tree to sort herself out.

  “Lady Amelia!”

  Her governess sounded afraid now, perhaps able to see the difficulty Amelia was in. “Will you please come down!”

  Amelia tried to shout for help, feeling her hands slip as she tried her best to remove her foot from her skirts. And then, before she knew it, she was falling.

  Falling was meant to be painless, but Amelia felt as though she bounced off every single tree branch as she fell. The breath was thrown from her body as she landed, hard, hearing a sickening crack that seemed to come not from the tree, but from her.

  And then, her governess started to scream. Amelia wanted to tell her to be quiet, wanted to say she was quite all right and had only fallen a little way, but found she could not seem to say a single word. It was as though she were caught between wakefulness and a dream, not able to speak and certainly not able to move.

  Pain began to spread through Amelia’s body as she lay on the grass, her governess still screaming for help. Blinking rapidly against the agony, Amelia sucked in air, trying to push the pain away, trying to force it down, but it only continued to grow and grow within her, until a scream left her lips and began to join in with the cries of her governess. Her leg began to burn with a deep and furious pain and, as she lifted her head just a little to look at it, Amelia realized, with horror, it now sat at a very strange angle indeed.

  Throwing her head back against the grass, Amelia screamed again, in both pain and fear. Her governess was speaking rapidly to someone—the gardener, perhaps—but this did not bring Amelia any comfort from her agony.

  “We shall have the surgeon here very soon, Lady Amelia,” she heard her governess say as a whimper began to leave her throat, replacing the screams. “You shall be quite all right, I am sure of it.”

  Amelia began to cry, hot tears slipping down her cheeks as she opened her eyes to see her governess, ashen-faced, kneeling beside her.

  “Do not fear,” her governess continued, her smile tremulous as she pressed one hand lightly on Amelia’s forehead. “You will be well again very soon, Lady Amelia. There may be pain for a while, but soon, it will go, and you will be yourself again. You will just have to be brave for a time. Do you think you can do that?”

  Amelia closed her eyes again and began to sob. The pain seemed to be a part of her now as though it would never fully allow her to escape from it and, despite the comforting words of her governess, Amelia began to think she would never fully escape this agony, feeling it take a firm hold of her frame.

  “They are coming now,” the governess continued, wiping Amelia’s tears. “You shall have to be very brave now, Lady Amelia, but we shall soon have you inside and in bed, where you will begin to recover. Have no fear. It will all be over very soon.”

  Chapter One

  “This is to be the year you are wed, Amelia.”

  Lady Amelia shook her head but lowered her gaze, knowing she could not contradict her uncle. Her father, the previous Earl of Stockbridge, had passed away some three years ago, and as such, his brother and her uncle, had taken the title. After her year of mourning, her uncle had accompanied her to London for her first season, which had not gone well at all. This now being her second season, he clearly expected her to find a husband just as soon as she could.

  “I am certain there is someone within society who will take another look at you, especially when it is known that you have an ever greater dowry than last season,” he continued authoritatively. “And besides, it is not as though you are…unbecoming.”

  Amelia resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing very well that she might be a diamond of the first water, but her limp marred her considerably. Yes, she knew very well that she had a fine figure and her very dark hair and emerald eyes were striking, but none of that caught a gentleman’s attention. The moment she took a step out onto the floor, they would look to her limp and all interest would evaporate.

  “Mrs. Peters will continue to be your companion, of course,” the Earl continued, referring to Amelia’s companion who had been a stalwart during last year’s season. “And she will do all she can to direct you towards a suitable gentleman.”

  “Yes, Uncle,” Amelia replied without hesitation, knowing this was the response she was expected to give.

  “And whilst you may struggle to dance, you must force yourself to do everything you can,” her uncle directed, his thick, graying eyebrows lowering down as his dark green eyes sharpened themselves upon her. “You must not remain in the shadows, Amelia.”

  “No, Uncle.” Amelia had never wanted to be the center of attention and had done all she could last season to make herself invisible, but evidently, her uncle had been aware of this. It had not done much good, of course, for everyone knew there was a young lady who had a bad limp amongst them. It did not matter whether or not she had a good title or an excellent dowry. The flaw was all the beau monde saw.

  “Very good.” The Earl cleared his throat, drawing himself up to his full height and reminding Amelia once again of the intimidating figure her uncle could be. He had never shown her any particular care or consideration, just as her father had done, and had taken on a similar attitude to her limp. Her father had always blamed her for her limp without once understanding it had been nothing more than an accident, and her uncle considered this to be the case also. It was as if Amelia had done so on purpose, as though she had deliberately brought this calamity upon herself to make life more than a little difficult for her f
amily. There had been no acknowledgment that it had just been a childish caper, no seeming acceptance that to climb a tree was something all children sought to do—especially if it meant they were able to escape their lessons in doing so! She could still remember how her father had loomed over her bed as she had lain there in agony, her leg being splinted by the less-than-gentle surgeon. He had shown her no sympathy, had given her no words of compassion. Instead, there had been a harsh rebuke and outright anger over what she had done. Amelia had felt such guilt and shame that she had turned away from her father entirely and had done so ever since then. There had never been any joy in being in his presence, never any happiness. Instead, there just came the same dull feeling of guilt, the same unhappiness, and the same sense of grief that there had never been familial care for each other between herself and the Earl. It was made all the more pertinent now by the fact that he was gone from this world and had left her entirely at the mercy of her uncle—who wanted her gone from under his roof just as soon as possible.

  “I will inform Mrs. Peters as to your upcoming events and the invitations you have received,” the Earl finished, turning and walking towards the door. “You are to attend Lord Marston’s ball this evening, so ensure you are quite prepared.”

  Amelia bobbed a quick curtsy but said nothing, feeling a lump in her throat that could not be easily removed. When the door closed behind her uncle, she let out a long breath, hearing the sob within it but choosing to ignore it completely. There was no good in crying now, not when it would come to naught. There were expectations she had to fulfill, regardless of the pain within her heart. Her uncle did not care for her feelings, and neither, it seemed, must she. She was expected to do as he wished without hesitation and now, it seemed, was to seek out any gentleman of both good breeding and decent fortune in order to make herself amenable to them. It did not matter what she thought of each of the gentlemen, did not matter whether or not they were kind, compassionate, foul-tempered, or arrogant. She would have to take whatever she could. Should a gentleman show even the slightest flicker of interest, then Amelia knew she would be expected to encourage his attention, whether or not she found the gentleman interesting or agreeable.

  “It seems we have our orders,” Mrs. Peters murmured, rising from a chair in the corner of the room and reminding Amelia that she had been present for the Earl’s conversation. She had entirely forgotten her companion was in the room at all, for Mrs. Peters—whilst determined, with a strong character and a firmness about her gaze, was fairly diminutive. Turning, Amelia put on a smile she did not feel and tried to shrug.

  “Indeed,” she said as nonchalantly as she could. “My uncle has expectations, and I must do my best to fulfill them.”

  Mrs. Peters drew near and put a hand on Amelia’s shoulder, comforting her. “I know you find his demands very difficult indeed,” she said kindly, making Amelia’s eyes burn with unshed tears. “But you do very well to tolerate him. You know I am here to do my very best to help you.”

  Amelia nodded, the smile fading from her face as a lump began to settle in her throat. She could not speak for fear that she would begin to cry, aware Mrs. Peters knew of her failure from last season. Mrs. Peters had been a good deal more callous towards Amelia at the beginning of last season, having been chosen by the Earl to ensure Amelia found a husband. It had been a practical matter, Mrs. Peters had said, nothing more. But, as the season had gone on and Mrs. Peters had seen how the ton had stared at Amelia, how they had whispered about her and how she had slowly been left feeling nothing but embarrassment and shame, something had changed. Mrs. Peters had softened towards Amelia, standing beside her in solidarity and understanding. She had felt Amelia’s pain and had encouraged her as best she could to remain unblinking and unaffected by it, even though Amelia had been unable to do so. This season, Amelia was quite certain Mrs. Peters would continue to be as kind and as supportive as she had been at the last.

  “I do not know how I am to fulfill my uncle’s demands,” Amelia whispered, her heart beginning to ache within her. “I am nothing but a figure of fun when it comes to the ton. You know very well they do not see me once they see my limp.”

  Mrs. Peters nodded, not hiding the truth from Amelia. “I am aware this is what they see, but I cannot agree that it is all that you are,” she said gently. “You must not allow yourself to believe you are, somehow, less worthy than other young ladies of the ton. That is not true. You have a small limp, yes, but that does not detract from your wonderful qualities. It is the ton’s failing that does not seek out such things from you, Amelia. Do not permit them to break your spirit.”

  Amelia closed her eyes, forcing back her tears. “I do not think I know what to do,” she said hoarsely, feeling her spirits quail. “Am I just to go about society as I have done before, hoping someone will look at me?”

  Mrs. Peters sighed, tilting her head. “No,” she said after a moment, as Amelia opened her eyes and moved to sit down heavily in a chair, her leg beginning to pain her. “No, I think we must consider a new way of going about things.”

  “What, then?” Amelia asked, aware she sounded a little desperate but having no shame about such a feeling. “What can we do that will bring me any sort of success?”

  Mrs. Peters hesitated, a frown forming between her brows. Amelia watched her closely, not wanting to miss a single word. Mrs. Peters was precisely the opposite of Amelia when it came to their coloring. Mrs. Peters had fair hair, with very light blue eyes, in severe contrast to Amelia’s dark hair and green eyes. Mrs. Peters was shorter than Amelia, with a straight, thin figure that held no curve at all, whilst Amelia was both tall and curvaceous. It was certainly a striking contrast, and one Amelia knew had already been mentioned by the ton on some occasions. Not that such a thing mattered, for Mrs. Peters had been married to a distant relative of the Earl and, as such, did not have any requirement to show familial similarities. Mrs. Peters had been employed as a companion for Amelia until the time came for Amelia to marry—and she had taken the post gratefully, given her husband was no longer of this world, and she had two children to care for. The children were being cared for by Mrs. Peters’ older sister, from what Amelia understood, but Amelia knew very well that Mrs. Peters missed them dreadfully. That brought her even more guilt, for if she were able to make a match quickly, then Mrs. Peters would be able to return to her children all the sooner—and Amelia had every intention of ensuring Mrs. Peters was sent some money each and every month from Amelia herself, in gratitude for her help.

  But all that would come once Amelia had found a suitor, which still seemed like an insurmountable mountain standing right in front of her.

  “I think we must introduce you to a few ladies,” Mrs. Peters said slowly, interrupting Amelia’s thoughts. “That might be best.”

  “To ladies?” Amelia repeated, quite confused. “Do you mean there will be ladies present who have eligible sons?”

  Mrs. Peters shook her head. “No, that is not what I mean. I think we should introduce you to ladies that are well established within the ton. If they accept you, if they show their willingness to greet you and to converse with you, then the beau monde might be less inclined to see you only for your limp and nothing more.”

  Amelia blinked rapidly, trying to understand what Mrs. Peters meant. “You think they would aid me in my struggles?”

  “I think they might do so,” Mrs. Peters said quickly. “You know very well what the ton are like, Amelia. The ladies of the ton can be equally as fickle, and indeed, there are those we shall have to take great pains to avoid!” Her brow furrowed all the more. “Those who love nothing more than to gossip, to spread rumors and to do nothing other than to whisper maliciously about others.” Her jaw set, leaving Amelia with no doubt as to what the lady herself thought of such creatures. “I will not stand for it, of course, so therefore we must remain far away from such ladies. However, I am quite certain there are those within the beau monde who would aid you significantly, should we seek them
out. We must be wise, of course, but I do think it would be a good endeavor, Amelia.”

  Amelia managed to smile, thinking to herself that this was, at least, a better idea than to try to make her way through society, grasping at any gentleman she could. “Thank you, Mrs. Peters,” she said gratefully. “That does give me a little more hope.”

  “I am certain we shall find a gentleman of integrity,” Mrs. Peters said with a satisfied air. “They may be hiding in the shadows, such as you yourself are inclined to do, but we shall seek them out. I will do all I can to speak to other companions so I might know of any such gentlemen in their considerations. That may give us a little advantage also.”

  “We can but hope,” Amelia replied a little sadly.

  “And you must not think that you are the only lady in the beau monde who has such difficulties,” Mrs. Peters finished, going to ring the bell before sitting back down. “You are not, Amelia.” Her hands gently clasped in her lap, Mrs. Peters gave Amelia a small yet determined smile. “There will be other young ladies who find themselves in a similar situation, I am certain. They will keep to the shadows and hide from the ton as best they can, seeing it more as an enemy than a friend. You need not think that you are alone. In fact!” Her face brightened. “We should ensure that you have some close acquaintances, Amelia! Those who may feel as you do, for that would be an encouragement to you, would it not? You would have the gift of knowing you are not as alone as you believe yourself to be, whilst being able to talk openly about the trials and struggles you face.”

  Amelia did not know what to say, fearing such a thing might only bring her more sorrow rather than the encouragement Mrs. Peters believed it would.

  “Then we have a plan!” Mrs. Peters finished, not allowing Amelia even a moment to speak. “I feel a good deal better now, going forward. This evening shall be our first foray into society, and we shall ensure we are careful and cautious in everything we do and say. You have nothing to fear, Amelia. Trust me when I say this Season will be a good deal more than the last.”