A Deceptive Wager

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  He gasped. “Then why hire Mr. Stonewall to watch me?”

  “I did that to show you what it was like to be watched by Miss Britcher.”

  “That’s a deceitful thing to do.”

  “Well, how do you think I felt? A married lady being told she must have a chaperone because her husband assumes she has lovers hiding in every nook and cranny of a room? I’m the laughingstock of London. Everyone knows about it.”

  “They do not.”

  “They do, too,” she said. “But, of course, you don’t believe me. You’ll never believe anything I say.” She let out a frustrated groan. “I need a reprieve from all of this. If I don’t get one, my head is going to ache.” She pushed past him and threw the doors open. “I’m going to grab my parasol. Then I’ll be ready to be escorted for a walk.” Not waiting for him to respond, she ran for her bedchamber.

  ***

  The day had been the longest day Aaron could ever remember having to live through. The walk through Hyde Park had been nothing short of a nightmare. Everyone kept looking at them as if they were happy. At one point, they passed by an old couple, and after offering a greeting, he overheard the lady tell her husband, “Remember when we were young and in love like they are?” He had glanced at Kitty to see if she’d heard her, but if Kitty had, she didn’t give any indication of it. He hoped she hadn’t.

  So many people had seen them together at the park. He hadn’t considered that side of things when he followed Kitty out of the townhouse. He passed a couple of gentlemen from White’s, too, and he could swear that one of them laughed because Aaron used to say he’d be a bachelor until he was at least thirty. At least thirty. And here he was, in his mid-twenties with a wife who was going to be married to him until one of them was dead.

  There were a few children there as well, and that only reminded him of the argument that had passed between him and Kitty before they left. He knew he had to get her with child. He just didn’t want to. How was a gentleman supposed to be with a lady when he simply didn’t want to be? He resented it. He had to get an heir. To get the heir, he had to be in bed with Kitty, and that left him with a strange vulnerable sensation. He didn’t like being vulnerable. Maybe other gentlemen could be with a lady and not have it mean anything, but it didn’t seem like something he could do without it somehow affecting him.

  But that was something probably no one could understand. He didn’t befriend gentlemen unless he sincerely liked them. He wasn’t the type who could pretend to like someone to gain some sort of advantage like other gentlemen could. He also didn’t hire any servants unless he liked them enough to want them in his household. He didn’t have any deep conversations with them, but he liked to at least be comfortable enough with them to exchange pleasantries. The townhouse ran smoother when everyone got along.

  The only exception to his rule had been Miss Britcher. He never did feel comfortable around her, and as much as he hated to admit it, there were times when he felt intimated by her. While that made her perfect for her job, it was actually a reprieve to have her gone so he didn’t have to share meals with her at the table. Even Mr. Stonewall, as irritating as he could be with how quick he came to Kitty’s defense, didn’t make him feel uncomfortable like Miss Britcher did.

  Aaron didn’t mind the lack of conversation. He didn’t mind that Kitty didn’t look at him. It was just nice not to have Miss Britcher giving him glances as if she didn’t approve of what he was doing. That had been especially prevalent in the past week. He didn’t know what he’d said or done to upset her, but it didn’t matter. Her role was to do her job, not to like him.

  With a relieved sigh that the day was over, he changed into his nightclothes. It didn’t occur to him that he had to share the room with Kitty until he looked at his bed. He groaned. Of course, he had to share a room with Kitty tonight. Miss Britcher wasn’t here.

  He glanced at his bed. He loved sleeping in it. The thing was comfortable. But he didn’t want Kitty to be in this bedchamber. Sure, she could sleep in the small bed Mr. Stonewall usually slept in, but he didn’t like the idea of her being in here all night. This was his sanctuary from the rest of the world. No matter how bad things got, this was the one place he could be at peace.

  Well, that settled it. He would sleep in her bedchamber, but he wasn’t ready to try for an heir tonight. He would sleep in Miss Britcher’s bed. He grabbed his robe. He slipped it on then went to the door connecting their bedchambers.

  Kitty gasped when he walked into her room. She jumped up from the chair at the vanity and clutched the brush to her chest. She was in nothing but a thin piece of fabric that went down to the middle of her calves. He jerked in surprise. He didn’t know why, but he had assumed she’d already be in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin.

  “What are you doing in here?” she demanded.

  It took him a moment to recover from his shock. “Since I’m taking Miss Britcher’s place, I need to sleep in here. In her bed,” he clarified before she started pestering him about trying for an heir.

  “If you insist on being in here, then I ask that you be a gentleman and stop staring at my breasts.”

  He blinked. He hadn’t been staring at her breasts. He’d been staring at the brush she was holding between them. Wasn’t he? He blinked again. Drat! It was impossible to think.

  Face growing hot, he hurried to the small bed, doing his best to ignore the part of him that let him know while he had qualms about being married, it did not. Irritated, he yanked down the neatly made covers on the bed and plopped into it. First, he settled on his back, but realizing the covers weren’t thick enough to hide his erection, he got onto his side, turning away from her.

  He felt as if she was watching him, so he glanced over his shoulder to see if she was, and sure enough, she was staring at him. Thankfully, she was sitting in the chair, thereby preventing him from seeing more than he should. He didn’t want to be caught staring again. “Why are you looking at me?” he finally asked when she continued to stare at him.

  “You’re not going to sleep in your robe, are you?” she asked.

  He forgot he had it on. “I can’t take it off if you’re looking at me.”

  “Why? I’m not the one who has trouble keeping his gaze where it belongs. I’m the one who is the seductress, remember? It’s why you have me covered from head to toe in a thick dress that makes it hard to walk.”

  “You didn’t seem to have any trouble walking at Hyde Park.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why were you watching me walk?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I was walking next to you. You didn’t stumble or go at a slow pace. That’s what I meant.” For goodness’ sakes. “I’m exhausted. I just want to go to sleep. It’s been a long day.” He sat up and threw the covers off of him. Then he stood up, threw the robe off, and hopped right back under the covers. “Is that better?”

  Without replying, she turned from him and started brushing her hair.

  He had a perfect view of her in that mirror, and since she was no longer clutching the brush to her chest, he noticed just how round and full her breasts were.

  At first, he thought she had done that on purpose. But then he realized she was focusing on her hair. Her gaze didn’t once flicker in his direction. She didn’t even notice that he could see her. It was as if it didn’t even occur to her that he might even try to get a glimpse of her in that mirror.

  Something about the situation unsettled him, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what that something was.

  After a moment, he forced his gaze off of the mirror and turned back onto his side. He put his head on the pillow. It didn’t feel right to look at her. She might be his wife. By law, he had the right to look, but since she hadn’t been aware he had been looking, he had a moral obligation to turn his attention elsewhere.

  He closed his eyes. Unfortunately, the image of her was seared into his mind, and all he could see was the perfect shape of those breasts. He wondered what they would feel li
ke.

  He opened his eyes. He needed to get his mind onto something else. He scanned the room. His back was toward the door and the vanity—and her. He had a clear view of her bed, the window, two chairs, and the small table between them, and the little room off to the side of her bedchamber. There was plenty for him to focus on.

  So why couldn’t he get his mind off of her breasts?

  It had to be because she was still at the vanity brushing her hair. Once she was in bed, he would forget all about them because she would have the blankets covering her.

  “When will you be done brushing your hair?” he asked, keeping his face turned away from her.

  “I’ll be done when I no longer have any tangles,” she replied.

  “Well, how many do you have?”

  “Quite a few.”

  “And you don’t know how long it’ll take to get through them?”

  “I need to be careful. If I brush too hard, I’ll lose too many strands of hair.”

  “Surely, you won’t go bald if you brush fast.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “No, I won’t go bald, but I will have a lot more strands to pull out of my brush. I like to make sure my brush is free of hair after I’m done.”

  “Why?”

  “Because a clean brush works more efficiently.”

  He had no idea what she was talking about. He was able to comb his hair every day without any problems, and he never had to worry about whether strands of his hair got pulled out of his scalp or not. “You’re lying,” he finally decided. “You’re not losing any strands of hair when you brush your hair. You just want to stay there for as long as possible because you want me to suffer.”

  A loud clacking sound came from the vanity, and it took him a moment to realize she had slammed the brush down. “You think you’re suffering? I’ve had to be subjected to your presence all day, and now I’m to bear with you all through the night. I really hope Teddy feels better by tomorrow because I don’t know if I can tolerate one more day with you.”

  Appalled she’d say such a thing, he bolted up in the bed and turned to face her. “You think I like being forced to chaperone you all day?”

  Her eyes flashed with annoyance. “Yes, I do. I think you get pleasure from watching me suffer.”

  “I’m the one who’s in pain, and there’s nothing you can possibly know about it.” She wasn’t capable of having an erection that caused her entire groin to ache. He tried not to glance at her breasts, but his eyes betrayed him. He gritted his teeth. “Will you just blow out the candles and get to bed? I have to go to sleep.”

  She gasped and crossed her arms over her breasts. “I can’t believe you’re trying to get a look at me while I’m not decent!”

  “Why didn’t you put on a robe? I, at least, had the decency to do that!”

  She gagged. “I have no desire to look at you. It’s all I can do to eat while you’re sitting across from me in the dining room.”

  He couldn’t believe she said that. He was a fairly attractive gentleman, and that wasn’t just vanity talking. “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny.” She pointed for him to look away from her. “I’m going to forget about my hair tonight and just go to bed because you are being difficult. Stop looking at me with those lustful eyes.”

  He tried to give her a clever retort, but the correct words didn’t come. He turned his back to her, and soon the light went out. Good. If nothing else, he would be spared from accidentally looking at those breasts.

  He heard her move past his small bed, and though he couldn’t prove it, he was sure she bumped into it on purpose. Miss Britcher had been here with her for weeks. She knew exactly where this bed was.

  Though the curtains were closed, there was a sliver of moonlight that snaked its way into the room, so he saw her as she climbed into her bed. She wiggled under the covers and settled onto her back.

  Relieved, he put his head back on the pillow.

  “When Mr. Stonewall returns, I’m going to have him give further instructions on where to look when you’re around me,” she said, not hiding the irritation in her voice.

  “In that case, I’ll tell Miss Britcher to…to…” He tried to come up with something Miss Britcher could do to teach Kitty to be more like a lady, but he couldn’t think of anything.

  “You’ll tell her to what?” Kitty asked.

  “I’ll think of something.”

  And he would. Surely, there had to be something Kitty had been actively doing to seduce him tonight. He couldn’t be completely to blame for the direction his thoughts had taken. All ladies were seductresses. It was in their nature. He was naïve. He just didn’t know what it was she’d been doing to lure his gaze to her breasts. She’d only been brushing her hair in an attempt to appear innocent.

  Aaron, that is the most ridiculous line of reasoning anyone ever came up with.

  He grunted and turned away from her. This was going to be the longest night of his life. He was going to be lucky if he managed to get any sleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Kitty woke up the next morning, she had those first few seconds where she thought all of yesterday had been a terrible nightmare, but when she looked over at Gretchen’s bed, she saw Aaron sitting on the edge of it. He was facing the window. His eyes were halfway closed, and when his head nodded forward, his eyes shut all the way.

  She rolled her eyes. It hadn’t been a nightmare. It’d all been horrifyingly real. Aaron was taking Gretchen’s place as her chaperone. How she envied Teddy right now. At least his dreams weren’t actually happening to him.

  “I need to get up,” she said.

  He snapped to attention, his bloodshot eyes meeting hers.

  “Didn’t you get any sleep last night?” she asked in surprise.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Go on to your bed and get some rest. I can manage all by myself without getting into trouble.” She shooed at him to go to his bedchamber.

  “I can’t do that. I have to stay with you. There’s no telling what you’ll do if I leave you unattended.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe this. You refuse to trust me at all.”

  All right, so he was going to stay with her no matter what. She might as well get ready for the day. She couldn’t help it if he insisted on following her around, but she could decide to enjoy the day.

  She got out of the bed and went to the armoire.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  Not hiding her sarcasm, she replied, “Are you really so daft that you can’t tell when someone is going to get dressed?”

  “Do you have to do it right in front of me?”

  She stared at him in disbelief. How could he ask her that when he insisted on being in this room with her? “If you don’t want to watch, then go to another room.”

  He blinked in surprise as if the idea hadn’t even occurred to him.

  Rolling her eyes, she opened the armoire door and saw the few gowns that she was allowed to wear. Her gaze went to the ones that had been forbidden. She drummed her fingers on the armoire door. She was tired of walking around like she was trapped in a cocoon. She wanted the freedom to wear her other gowns. She wanted the freedom to wear one of her old red or purple gowns! She’d had enough of this nonsense. She found a light purple gown Gretchen hadn’t tossed out. She grabbed it, clean undergarments, and a pair of slippers. Today, she would be comfortable.

  Ignoring Aaron, she marched over to her bed and pulled her chemise over her head.

  “What are you doing?” Aaron demanded as he jumped up from Gretchen’s bed.

  “Why do you keep asking that stupid question?” she asked. “It’s obvious to anyone what I’m doing.”

  She went to the pitcher and poured water into a basin so she could clean up before putting on the clean clothes. She didn’t watch him as he left the room, but she did jerk when he slammed the door.

  Groaning, she turned her attention back to t
he pitcher and basin. She was going to end up killing him. He was going to push her to the point where she was going to lose all of her control and whack him over the head with a candlestick. Things with him only got worse. She never thought she’d miss anyone so much, but she prayed Gretchen would come back, and soon!

  ***

  Aaron felt as if he was about to break. Every gentleman had his limits, and he was at his wit’s end. He had only managed a fitful sleep last night. Every time he managed to drift off to sleep, he started having dreams—dreams of which he’d rather not consciously think about—and it made it impossible for him to find any semblance of peace. There was no doubt about it. Kitty was going to be the death of him.

  He looked at her as she sat across from him in the dining room, eating her eggs as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He had no choice but to spend the day with her. He had broken down and asked the maids to do it, but they told him the long list of chores they had to do, and he would rather they did all of those tasks instead of doing them himself. So, in the end, he had resigned himself for another long day with his wife.

  She took a bite of her eggs without looking in his direction. She hadn’t said anything to him when she got to the dining room. There had been a flicker of annoyance on her face, but she’d opted not to tell him how much she resented having to be around him. He was well aware that she hated him. And there was a little part of him in the back of his mind that told him this was all his fault.

  If he were honest with himself, he would have to admit he was beginning to have doubts that she’d ever been with a gentleman before. Last night, she’d been innocently brushing her hair, unaware he could see more of her than he should. Then this morning, she’d gotten out of bed in nothing but a thin piece of fabric which left very little to the imagination in the daylight. And, as if that hadn’t been enough, she’d taken that thin piece of fabric off right in front of him so he could see everything. She hadn’t even been aware he’d been watching her with less-than-honorable intent. The thought probably had never occurred to her that when she was naked, it aroused certain things in a gentleman that made him want to cast all reason aside and just be with her.