Chapter Five #2
Her eyebrows lifted. “Is that all?”
He shook his head. “It is not all,” he said.
“We will ask the servants to bring the strongest drink they have and pour it into cups. We will each have one. You will ask me a question, any question at all, and if I answer it, you must take a drink. If I refuse, then I must take a drink. We will do this until only one of us left standing and whoever is left wins the wager. If you win, I will fight with you against this marriage.”
Caledonia was much more interested in this than anything he’d said since they’d first met. “And if you win?”
“Then we marry immediately.”
She puffed out her cheeks, blowing out a long breath as she considered his proposal.
In truth, it wasn’t unfair. It was actually quite fair.
It would be a decisive victory for one of them, and only because she could drink most men under the table was she considering it.
He didn’t know she had a great tolerance for wine and ale.
He was playing right into her hands.
She was so confident that she could hardly keep the smile off her face.
“Very well,” she said. “I accept.”
“Good.”
“And you give me your word that you will hold up your end of the bargain?”
“You have my oath, lady. There is no stronger vow than that.”
It was evident from her expression that she believed him.
Not that she had a choice, but she was willing to go on a little faith if it would get her out of this predicament.
With that in mind, she turned around and shouted like a barmaid to summon a servant.
Thor had never heard anything like it, this ethereal creature shouting like a common fishwife.
As he fought off a grin, the older woman whom he’d chased from the table appeared and Caledonia ordered something called gorzalka.
He’d never heard of it. As the older woman nodded and turned to leave, Thor stood up.
“I will see to this drink to ensure she does not put anything in it to poison me,” he said. “What is it that you have asked for?”
Caledonia watched him as he moved toward the older woman, who happened to be Lady Lupa. “It comes from far to the east,” she said. “It is the strongest drink I’ve ever known, but smooth. You do not know how strong it is until you’ve had too much and you cannot get up from the floor.”
He simply nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment, perhaps suspiciously, before he motioned the older woman on her way.
He followed.
Once Caledonia was left alone, she thought about running again.
It was her first instinct. But she’d given her word that she’d wager with him, and if she did, she’d get him off her back forever.
That was the deal. She was willing to see it through to be done with this betrothal nonsense once and for all.
Finished.
Oddly, there was a small part of her that was disappointed.
Thor de Reyne was quite handsome to look at, young and enormously strong.
Far more handsome than Robert had been. Thor would be a husband any woman would be proud of.
But here she was, eager to get rid of him because she didn’t want to marry again.
Ever. And she knew, as she lived and breathed, that it was a stupid stance.
Did she really want to be alone for the rest of her life?
That was the reality of it. She was fighting to be alone when the truth was that she was a valuable commodity as a widowed heiress.
Thor said that if he won, they would marry immediately.
She was certain that was out of greed to claim the title and not some misplaced desire to marry her, personally. She had nothing to do with it.
Only ambition.
He only wanted what she had.
With that lingering thought, she waited. Thor returned shortly with Lady Lupa, who was carrying a tray with a large pitcher and two cups on it. Thor indicated for the woman to set the tray down on the table between him and the lady.
“I had her pour it out of a bottle I opened myself,” he told Caledonia as he sat down. “The wine is pure enough. I even made her take a drink, which seemed to make her eyes water. If she isn’t dropping dead, then it must be fit for our purposes.”
Caledonia silently waved the older woman away as she picked up the pitcher and began to pour full measures for them both.
“I would be remiss if I did not warn you about gorzalka,” she said. “I feel that I should—”
“You’ve already warned me.”
He had cut her off with his arrogant reply and she looked at him, possibly in amusement, as she handed him a full cup.
“Very well,” she said as if he was sure to regret this bargain. “Shall we begin?”
Thor nodded. “You may ask the first question.”
Caledonia had to choose her question carefully. If he answered it, she would have to drink. If he refused, he would have to drink. She wanted to get the man drunk so her question had to be pointed. Uncomfortable, even.
But she had to be perfectly clear.
“This is not my question, but may I ask about the rules so I understand completely?” she said.
He nodded. “What is it?”
“May I ask any question?”
“Any question.”
“Even a question you may not like?”
“I said any question. But that means I also get to ask you any question.”
So she couldn’t badger him too much or he would badger her in return. Now, there was some strategy involved because he could do to her what she wanted to do to him.
The lines were drawn.
“How many women have you bedded in your lifetime?” she asked.
It was the first volley in the battle and it was a heavy one.
She came charging out on the offensive, like any good opponent, and Thor had to seriously keep from laughing at the question.
She was trying to shock him, but it wasn’t going to work.
He needed to get the woman sauced so they could be over this nonsense and get on with their lives together.
Such as it was.
“Nineteen,” he said without hesitation, though he was certain it wasn’t that high. Frankly, he didn’t even know what the number was, so it was the first number he could come up with. “I answered you. You must drink, my lady.”
Eyeing him, Caledonia took a swallow of the stuff, wincing as it went down because it was so strong. “What is your question for me?” she asked.
Her voice sounded tight, as if the alcohol had burned her throat, and Thor had to think of a good question.
“How many men have you bedded in your lifetime?” he asked.
Caledonia coughed. She coughed again. She suffered through a coughing fit before she spat out an answer.
“Forty-nine,” she said hoarsely, still coughing. “You must drink now.”
He did, a big swallow, and it damn near burned a hole in his throat. Now he knew why she was coughing, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that he found the drink almost unbearable. The most he did was clear his throat.
“Christ,” he muttered. “How is it that you can even walk if you’ve bedded so many?”
“Is that your next question?”
He shook his head quickly. “Nay,” he said. “It is your turn.”
She coughed one last time before taking a deep breath and thinking carefully on her question. She wanted to hit him hard, so there was no backing off what she’d started.
“Because you have bedded so many women, do you have any diseases of the male member that I should be aware of?” she asked. “Do you have the French pox?”
That did cause him to cough, and cough loudly, because he had to cover the laugh that came belting out of his mouth.
“I do not think so,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you want to inspect me to find out?”
“Is that your question to me?”
“It is.”
Caledonia realized he’d cornered her quickly.
If she refused to inspect him, he might consider it a refusal to answer.
It was difficult to tell with him. But she wondered if he was prepared to drop his breeches for her inspection were she to agree to it.
Perhaps he didn’t expect her to and was willing to take the chance.
She was going to turn the tables on him.
“Thank you, I would like to inspect you,” she said. “Lower your breeches. Let me see what nineteen other women have seen.”
The blue eyes began to crinkle at the corners.
God help him, it was all Thor could do not to burst out laughing.
She was being bold and reckless and entirely inappropriate, and he had to admit that he was impressed.
When he should have been appalled, he was actually impressed.
The woman was fearless as few people were.
Without hesitation, he stood up and began to untie his breeches, but he abruptly came to a halt.
“Wait,” he said. “I answered your question. You must drink.”
She frowned. “I answered your question, so you must drink.”
One hand on his breeches, Thor picked up the cup and took another drink of that liquid lightning. Caledonia did the same, tossing back a healthy swallow and sputtering because of it. He was about to slide his breeches down his hips when she put out a hand to stop him.
“Wait,” she said. “You do not need to show me. I believe you.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”
“I am?”
He inched one side of his breeches down. “It would be no trouble.”
“Pull your breeches up, de Reyne. I do not want to see your flesh sausage.”
He couldn’t help it then. He started laughing. By the time he fastened his breeches and sat down, he was crying with laughter.
“Where did you hear such a thing?” he said. “No lady should say such words.”
Caledonia was smiling. His laughter lightened what could have been a truly embarrassing moment, but more than that, he had a positively delicious smile, one that changed the entire shape of his face.
It was astonishing.
“In case you’ve not realized it, I am not an ordinary lady,” she said. “What would you prefer I call it? Your gospel pipe? Your staff of delight? Your—”