An Inadvisable Wager (The Curse of the Weatherby Ball Book 2)

by Eliza Lloyd

  “Once we have our clothes on again, rational thought will return.”

  “I hope so. Maybe we should finish.”

  “Soon.” He flexed his buttocks, pulling out and then pushing back in.

  “Oh! That hurt a little. Will it every time?”

  “No. It shouldn’t. I’ll be more careful.”

  “Then hurry. It is a bit uncomfortable, and we’ll need to rise early in the morning. Lady Fortenay has breakfast laid out at six.”

  “If we are late to the table, do you think she will suspect what we did all night?”

  “All night? Once is enough.”

  Gabriel thrust again. Nora gasped. “It does get better. And the next time, I may take your rail off. I would like to see all of you.”

  He nuzzled her face, his nose pressed to her cheek before kissing her again. He opened his mouth over hers, their tongues battling lightly. Gabriel started a gentle thrusting.

  Seeing her smile once and then again gave him the confidence to finish. He bent to suck her nipples again since she seemed to like it. Nora’s reaction was all gasping and wiggling. Gabriel followed with a thorough release, burying himself deep and enjoying the last of her body’s contractions as they drained him.

  He rolled away, on his back with eyes closed and ready for a good night’s sleep. He felt the intensity of her gaze. “You’re not tired,” he asked quietly.

  “No. Tell me how it works. For you.”

  He laughed. “It works so well that sometimes I can think of nothing else. Sometimes, though, I just want to sleep.”

  “I mean, how does it work from head to toe? Where do you like to be touched? Does it matter what I do to you during…”

  “Nora, it matters very much. Any time you want to touch me, you are more than welcome to do so. If you are asking where it feels best, I will be happy to show you. If you are asking whether I prefer your hands or your sheath…or your mouth, then I would say all in their turn.”

  “My mouth!” she said, pushing to her elbow and staring down at him. “That’s…that’s very strange, Carlow.”

  “Strange? My dear, reserve your judgment until I use my mouth on you.”

  She gasped then fell back to the bed, pulling the blankets to her shoulders and didn’t utter another word.

  * * * * *

  Come morning, Nora was up early. Gabriel heard the splash of water, then the armoire doors closing and clothes rustling. And it was a good morning.

  When Gabriel finally opened his eyes, he really only had one thing on his mind, and it wasn’t to discover what was laid out on Lady Fortenay’s breakfast buffet.

  He stood and stretched, a not so subtle reminder to Nora what they had accomplished last night. He glanced toward her, sitting in a hard, straight-backed chair, crying into a linen handkerchief.

  “Nora? What is it?”

  “I didn’t bleed,” she choked. “I am—I was a virgin. You must believe me.” Her shoulders shook. He glanced quickly at her side of the bed to see the pristine whiteness, albeit well-wrinkled.

  “Oh, good Lord, woman. If ever there was a virgin in my bed, it was you last night.” He laughed, not meaning to laugh at her, but only Nora could come up with a reason for theatrics at such a time. He reached for her hand. “Come here.” He pulled her toward the bed. “Sit. Now lean back.”

  Nora sobbed into her handkerchief again but obeyed him. Naked, he knelt on the floor, his knees grinding against the threadbare carpet. He tossed up her skirts, the smell of rosewater wafting from beneath.

  Gabriel leaned toward her, using both hands to separate the folds of the skin between her thighs. Nora’s only reaction to the shock was the urgent squeeze of his shoulders nestled between her thighs.

  He passed his tongue in a long, slow swipe and then circled the sensitive bud of her passion. Another sob shook Nora’s whole body. He wasn’t so kind or so slow as he’d been last night. He set about to claim Nora’s body in the most ruthless, tender and thorough manner possible—licking, sucking and teasing—until Nora shattered, sobbing and laughing, unable to control her body or her emotions. Then he did it again.

  Nora was a quivering, boneless, emotional mess when Lady Fortenay’s breakfast bell stopped him. Gabriel stood, washed up at the basin and dressed. Nora was still lifeless on the bed.

  “Nora, dear, are you ready for breakfast?” He leaned over her, both hands braced on the bed. Her eyes were clenched. “Nora?”

  “Go on. I can’t look at you. I may never be able to look at you again.”

  * * * * *

  “Why don’t you stay another day or two?” Lady Fortenay asked as they all walked along the lake. “James surely has two days’ worth of questions to ask Lord Carlow. And I missed you terribly while you were gone.”

  Nora had her arm wrapped in Gigi’s and they each had a walking stick in their free hand. Nora’s legs were still shaky. Carlow, the beast, was walking with Grandy. She listened with one ear. Carlow was asking a lot of personal questions and surprisingly, Lord Fortenay was answering with candidness she rarely heard from him aside of conversations with his wife.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know things would turn out exactly this way,” Nora said. And she was. There was a certain betrayal in not fully revealing such a plan to her most trusted confidante.

  “I should have burned your mother’s diaries when you came to Whitmarsh. They’ve been nothing but a heartache for you,” Gigi said.

  “No, don’t say that. It’s been the one thing I’ve had that comforts me in every situation.”

  “I thought I did that for you.”

  “Oh, Gigi. You must know you and Grandy are the most important people in the world to Timothy and me.”

  “Will he take good care of you?” Gigi asked, about Carlow.

  Nora peeked back to see Carlow leaning close to Grandy, listening intently. Was it possible to have pride in a spouse? Carlow was very respectful. There was no winking and smiling when Lord Fortenay couldn’t find the right word or when he repeated himself.

  “I think so. He’s promised me Henbury Hall, which means I can take care of Timothy’s future after—” Nora didn’t want to think about their deaths, but so much would change when they were gone. “You won’t have to worry about him. He’ll be able to marry a simple girl and have a family. We’ll rebuild the earldom to be a respectable name again.”

  “A simple girl? The Duke of Exeter’s granddaughter isn’t a simple girl,” Lady Fortenay said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Lady Fortenay poked her walking stick in the ground and turned to look at the men behind them. “Carlow, have you not discussed this situation with your wife yet?”

  Grandy and Carlow stopped walking. Nora faced them both. “What is Gigi talking about?”

  “Nora, we haven’t had time to discuss this. When we return from our walk…”

  “Has something happened with Timothy that I should know about?”

  Carlow glanced at Lord Fortenay and said, “What I told you was in confidence.”

  “You’ll learn, Carlow, that wives are part of every confidence and that secrets are a thing of the past,” Lord Fortenay said, seeming to enjoy Carlow’s initiation into one of the dictums of marriage.

  “Someone tell me!” Nora said.

  “Timothy made an acquaintance with Exeter’s granddaughter, Cecily. They have been corresponding and Timothy wants to pursue a courtship with her, if all parties are in agreement.”

  “Why didn’t Timothy tell me? And why did he tell you? He is my brother.”

  “He confided in me for a reason,” Carlow said.

  “Because he thought his sister couldn’t help make a match for him? There are plenty of fine young ladies in the county. He doesn’t need to hie off to London and marry into a family undeserving of him.”

  “Undeserving? Exeter is one of the oldest names in the kingdom. I would think such a match would make all parties on the Blasington side of the equation ecstatic. The dowry alone
would dazzle the poorest title with the meanest property,” Carlow said.

  Nora lifter her chin in challenge. “What are you saying, sir?”

  “Good grief, Nora. It is a wonderful opportunity even though we’ve made no progress or commitments to such a courtship. We are discussing the possibilities. Nothing more.”

  “You are all discussing it without me. And how, in two and half weeks, could he possibly know a young woman well enough to consider a courtship?”

  “A few lines of well-written poetry ought to gain a young woman’s attention,” Lord Fortenay said.

  “Poetry?” Nora said. “It would have taken Timothy a year to write such moving words. And no woman would succumb in such a short time.”

  Carlow’s brows shot up. “You’re right, of course! I don’t know how such a thing is possible.”

  “We weren’t courting,” Nora snapped. “Where’s Timothy? I need to speak with him. Someone needs to talk him out of this. I don’t want him to be shamed when Exeter refuses his suit.”

  “If it is handled correctly, there is no reason to think that anyone should be unhappy with such a match. And Exeter will not be the one to decide. Lord and Lady Russell will have the ultimate say.”

  “Timothy has no property and no income. Thanks to—”

  “No. Timothy’s situation is due to your father’s decisions, whatever his reasoning.”

  “Mayhap we should return to the house, James,” Lady Fortenay said.

  “No, we should return to the house since we are leaving in an hour,” Nora said.

  “Now, Nora,” Lord Fortenay said, “this matter is between me and Carlow. And Timothy, of course. It would be a very fine match, but it might take some negotiation.”

  “Are you going to sell Timothy to the highest bidder, like Father sold Timothy’s birthright?”

  “I should not be surprised that family secrets really aren’t secrets,” Carlow said, exasperation in his voice. “Nora, will you walk with me? We can discuss this without bothering Lord and Lady Fortenay.”

  Gabriel followed her, after a quick farewell to Lord and Lady Fortenay. Nora watched as they slowly strolled off together, supporting each other and whispering quietly.

  Nora stopped several steps away. “Carlow, Timothy is my family. I was prepared to throw my entire life on the altar of chance in order to lift him to his rightful place.”

  “Scandal isn’t the way to do that. A successful marriage is.”

  “It wasn’t a scandal. Not while I was disguised. If you had rejected me, no one would have been the wiser.”

  “Or you would have tried to entice Ellis or Nash?”

  Nora walked the few paces to a nearby wooden bench beneath a large oak tree. “Perhaps.”

  “This is exactly the type of marriage Timothy needs. It lifts all boats—Timothy’s, yours, mine.

  “I know that. If we were a normal family, that would work.”

  “But we are a normal family now. We are married. You have achieved your goal with the return of Henbury Hall. You have another name to support you and that is my name. And Timothy gets some of that benefit too, even if it means I help him pursue Exeter’s approval. Do you honestly expect Lord Fortenay, at his age, is going to ride off to London and negotiate a suitable marriage contract for your brother? With a family as powerful as Exeter’s?”

  “But Timothy doesn’t need that sort of marriage.”

  “Why not? Because you thought without Henbury Hall and tin mines and horses that an earl didn’t deserve any better than a vicar’s daughter? Not that there’s anything wrong with vicars’ daughters.”

  “Timothy needs to stay near Whitmarsh to care for Grandy and Gigi.”

  Carlow sat next to her, removed his hat and took her hand. She was past resistance to him. His ideas, on the other hand… “What about their sons? What about the income from Whitmarsh? Surely they can hire additional help to support them in their old age, while you and Timothy start your lives as productive members of society.”

  “It’s not proper to discuss finances with someone outside the family.”

  “If you know, you should share that information with me. I don’t want to embarrass Lord Fortenay by suggesting they cannot care for themselves.”

  “They very nearly can’t and that is why Timothy and I have been a burden to them. And why one of us must stay until the end. If Timothy is tied to the Exeter girl, who knows where he will end up?”

  “The sons?”

  “They are both in London. The heir waiting for them to die.”

  “What happens then? Were you and Timothy going to be driven out of Whitmarsh with no means of support? Oh,” Carlow said, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “I am a complete idiot.”

  Tears sprouted in Nora’s eyes again.

  “It’s a convoluted plan. You wagered and somehow you’ve made many of the parts work together,” he said. “But then you had to. Trying to make everything right for four people, not just one.”

  “No plan I made could get all that I needed. Without a dowry, I couldn’t be selective about a marriage. Yes, I am that proud. If I married locally, my dream of Henbury Hall would be gone. Our name has been tainted. Timothy has the same problem in marriage. And then what was I to do about Grandy and Gigi? I wasn’t really planning to marry you,” she said. “My wager was that you would despise the idea of being forced to marry Wargrove’s daughter, me thinking you knew every detail of your father’s deceit. I thought you would trade your freedom for a meaningless property to a meaningless family.”

  “But your alternative plan was just as effective. Marriage to one of us,” he said. “But we still don’t know if there was actual deceit by our fathers. You’ll pardon me if I reserve my judgment on that aspect of the story until we know more.”

  “What else is there to know? All of the Wicked Three are now dead. I am further away from the mines and the Henbury stallions than I was a month ago. Honestly, Carlow, I just want to go home and pretend Henbury Hall belongs to us again.”

  “We will soon, I promise. However, we must come to an agreement about Lord and Lady Fortenay so that Timothy has some freedom in marriage. I can’t have both of you being martyrs to the cause.”

  “Shouldn’t their sons have a say?”

  “Since it’s my money we are talking about, no. We—you and I—will help them because of how they’ve helped you and Timothy. We don’t have to explain ourselves to anyone. Not even their sons.”

  Nora faced him, a sense of anticipation growing. “Could we hire someone to stay with them? Maybe a couple with grown children? A sort of man-of-all-trades? Whitmarsh is small, but perhaps it can be made more profitable. And a woman who can organize the house better than a cook and one maid? Yes, I should talk to Reverend Wright. He knows everyone in the county and travels about often. Maybe we should delay our departure by another day.”

  “A delay seems appropriate. One day. Seven days. I am in no hurry.”

  “I still want to go to Henbury soon, though.” Nora moved quickly and sat in his lap. She took his ears in her hands and made him look at her. His brown-eyed gaze was enough to melt her heart. “Carlow, promise me you will do these things. Promise me you will not break my heart by pledging something you cannot give.”

  “I have pledged the most important thing of all, my name to your cause.”

  She stared a few moments, knowing he was amenable to the kiss she wanted to give. “Thank you, Carlow.” She pressed her lips to his, happy that Grandy and Gigi weren’t nearby to witness her complete surrender to her husband.

  * * * * *

  “I can’t accept your help,” Lord Fortenay said, “generous as it is.”

  “Please, Grandy. This is a wonderful opportunity. Carlow has put a lot of thought into this proposal. And Reverend Wright has found the perfect couple,” Nora said.

  “Dear heart, we’ll be fine,” Gigi said.

  Carlow watched the elderly couple, full of a lifetime’s worth of pride, made wors
e by the doubts of growing old. Lady Fortenay lightly patted her husband’s knee. “We’ll be fine.” She looked on, shoulders back, but a little rheumy-eyed.

  Carlow felt the weight of their worry. Being alone, an unknown future before them.

  Nora had insisted on being the one to discuss the matter with them, but emotion welled in her throat. Carlow glanced toward her but he sat quietly. It had taken three days before they found a couple from Charminster who had agreed to their employment offer. They had certain skills, and Nora was thrilled that Mrs. Brady was also somewhat educated and could both read and write. Hester Burney would need a good conversationalist, someone to read with her in the evening, now that her eyesight had diminished, and a general companion. The role Nora had filled, Carlow knew.

  “You took us in when no one else wanted us. When we were a burden and needed not only care but love, too. And you gave it freely. We have nothing to give back—”

  “Nonsense! We were the one’s blessed. You owe us nothing.”

  “Then you will accept this offer of help as a gift.”

  “Grandy. Gigi,” Timothy said, interrupting his sister. “We love you. Nora’s married now. She’s going to go off and start a new life with Carlow. I want to marry. I need my own home for a wife and whatever children we have. And you need companions.”

  “We have each other,” Lady Fortenay said.

  Gabriel could get involved, but he wasn’t sure what he could add that would convince them it was the right decision.

  “Timothy, maybe they are right,” Nora conceded, though Carlow knew the argument was far from over. “William and Percy will surely have a better idea what to do for their parents than we ever could. I know how much Susannah wants to refurbish the manor. And design a new, larger rose garden,” Nora said, head down and picking at something on her skirt. “I will surely miss the Souvenir de la Malmaison roses, but perhaps a strong red rose would be better suited to that side of the house.”

  It was cleverly cruel, in the way families knew what family members need and want. It was also effective. Lord Fortenay was right about secrets not being so secret.

  “William and Percy are much too busy to be bothered with the doings at Whitmarsh, or so they claim. And I will die before Susannah touches my rose garden.” Lady Fortenay folded her arms beneath her breasts and lifted her nose in derision at such a thought.