Chapter Fifteen #3
This man had loved her last night like she never knew she could be loved.
He had opened her eyes to desire and pleasure so intense she thought she would go up in flames.
He had offered her more than just his body last night.
She had seen it in his eyes. Even now, he had tried to protect her, save her from hurt.
She saw now that she would have to find some other way around their arrangement, but how?
He would never take money directly from her and yet she knew he needed this money.
Whatever fool thing his brother Henry had done, besides put his money and his faith in her late husband, Oliver should not have to pay for it.
Still, if he would at least collect on those wagers he had already completed…
She was so deep in thought she hadn’t realized she had made it to the river’s edge. She looked at Oliver and he looked at her. Was that pain she saw in his gaze?
“Are you satisfied now, Countess? Has your curiosity been fulfilled?”
She raised her chin a notch higher. “There are some wagers on this list I am willing to do,” she said.
Oliver gaped at her. “What?”
“You were right. Most of them are… repulsive, but there are a few I would consider.”
Now he looked astonished. She would have laughed at him under normal circumstances, but these were not normal circumstances.
“Which ones in particular are you referring to?”
“Well, the waltz for one.”
He raised a brow at her.
She raised one back. “I know what I said, but that was before.”
He nodded. “All right, what others?”
“I will kiss you here, in Hyde Park and… and let you expose my ankle at the next ball.
“Really,” he replied. Apparently, not at all convinced. “Even the kiss?”
“I will not enjoy it, but I will do it.”
“Well no, we can’t have you enjoying my kiss, can we?”
“I meant the humiliation of the wager and the circumstances surrounding it. Not the kiss itself.”
He shook his head. “I feel so much better now.”
She ignored his sarcastic tone. “Now, shall we do it here or in the phaeton?”
Oliver laughed because it was all so ridiculous. “Stop,” he said, putting up his hand. “We are going to walk back to the horses, and then I am going to take you home.”
“But the wager,” she said, as he took hold of her arm and started dragging her back up to the path.
He was not going to kiss her for money. No!
He wanted to kiss her, more now than ever, but he would not do it for the entertainment of others.
He’d already made up his mind that he would not be doing any more wagers from that damn list. He would find some other way to pay the bank back what his brother owed against the estate, even if it took the rest of his life to do so.
“But our agreement demands that you collect on some of the wagers, Bellamy. At least collect what you are owed.”
“And this will make you feel better about your idiotic arrangement? I don’t care about my side of the arrangement and neither should you. It was my choice.”
“Bellamy,” she said as they reached the horses.
“Not a word,” he replied. He paid the lad and helped her back into her seat.
He took up his place beside her and turned back towards the entrance of the park.
This fine day felt dark and dim to him now.
He looked over at Lisbeth and saw she was biting her lip again.
He hated to upset her, but he had to stand his ground on this.
*
The Warrington ball was always a crush. The fact that Ashton had ordered they attend made him feel even less like attending.
He wondered what his friend intended to do.
He would not let him interrogate Lisbeth.
Tony would be more tactful than that. He had a way of knowing when people were lying.
He was very observant. Perhaps he just wanted to test her, to see how honest she was.
He would find her defensive but not dishonest, of that Oliver was sure.
“Now, please, be nice to Ashton’s family. I think you will find them charming.”
“It is your friend Ashton’s youngest sister who is having her coming out?” Lisbeth asked as the carriage jostled while turning into Grosvenor Square where the Duke of Warrington lived.
“Yes, Lady Marianne. Only but a babe last time I saw her. But then I’ve only seen her twice when home briefly on leave. Delightfully wicked as a child but I put that down to having four older brothers.”
“Oh, the poor child,” Lisbeth said. Four brothers! She would be the most over-protected young woman… and no doubt the most loved. She was a very lucky young lady. If only her own brother had lived long enough to have protected her. Would it have made any difference?
“Exactly. Ashton thinks she is a complete hoyden, but what did he expect? He still thinks the sun shines from her, of course.”
“I admit to being a little nervous about tonight.” She looked over at him and he smiled that crooked smile at her, the one that crinkled his eyes and made her want to jump into his lap and kiss him.
“Have no fear of Warrington or the rest of the family. They are no strangers to scandal or gossip for that matter. They will not treat you ill. Everyone is terrified of Warrington, you know.”
“Really, why?”
“He is kind of… scarily disapproving. Part of it is on account of his height. Part is the fact that he never smiles and is not approachable in the least. He does, however, always do his duty.”
“Like me? Perhaps he too is hiding a seemingly insurmountable hurt.”
“Perhaps. I never thought of him like that, but of course, knowing you I can see how it could be possible. Whatever hurt he felt, it was many, many years ago.” Oliver looked out the window as the carriage jerked to a stop. “Ah, we are here. Come.”
He got out and handed her down, kissing the top of her hand before placing her hand on his arm.
She wanted to lean her head on his shoulder and sigh in contentment.
The sound of music wafting down the stairs reminded her that she had yet another ball to get through, another set of strangers to impress, another night of being the Black Raven.
She wanted to shed the mask of her reputation, but she had yet to prove her innocence and only Bellamy knew the real her.
She would do her best to make Oliver proud tonight.
He wanted her to like his friend Ashton and his family and so she would do her best to be civil no matter how they reacted to her.
A footman dressed in the Warrington livery of green and gold met them at the door.
He took their hats and coats and ushered them towards the receiving line.
This was the most tedious part of any ball, waiting to be greeted by the hosts.
The line moved fairly fast, made easier by Oliver’s easy banter.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Three times, but who is counting?” She smiled just so he would smile back.
“I like this color on you. It brings out your eyes.” He was referring to her gown of sapphire blue.
“Thank you. It is new.”
“I can’t wait to take it off later,” he whispered in her ear, his hand on her waist.
She stifled a smile. “I would prefer you kept your hands respectful. There are others in this line you know.”
“Are there?” He looked around as if seeing the other guests for the first time. “Gad, you’re right, hundreds of them too.”
“If you say you only have eyes for me, I may just cast up my accounts.”
“Even if it were true?” This time he winked at her but did not remove his warm hand from her waist. He was impossible to chastise.
Lisbeth gasped when she got her first glimpse of the Duke of Warrington.
He was tall, very tall, with dark hair that was slightly graying at the temples, and when he looked at her over the sea of heads he studied her for a few moments.
His eyes were a stormy gray, hard like steel and ready to do battle if necessary.
She returned his regard with an unflinching look of her own.
She knew this game. The duke’s eyes narrowed a moment then gave her an infinitesimal nod of his head, that she was sure was for her alone.
Oliver gave her a little push, whispering, “I told you he was frightening, didn’t I? ”
The line progressed steadily until finally they found themselves before the dowager duchess.
“Bellamy, so glad you could make it,” said the dowager. Her smile was easy, her eyes guarded, but then Bellamy had always found her a contradiction.
“I am glad to be here,” he said with a smile as he bowed over the duchess’s hand. “May I introduce the Countess of Blackhurst.”
“Lady Blackhurst.” The dowager nodded in acknowledgement. “This is my son, Warrington.”
The duke bowed over Lisbeth’s hand and shook Oliver’s, but said nothing.
Oliver explained the others in the welcoming party to her in a whisper. “Charles, Earl of Harlow, and his wife Gabrielle. Thomas, Viscount Epping, and his wife, Anna. Lord Anthony Ashton and Lady Marianne.”
Lisbeth couldn’t help but stare as they made their bows and curtseys to each other. They were all so handsome. Lady Marianne was a beauty, too, but she had yet to grow into her full beauty. She would be stunning in a few years.
Lord Anthony lingered over Lisbeth’s hand a little too long.
She felt him assessing her as she greeted the others.
He was handsome, but in a different way to the rest of his family.
If anything, he most resembled his eldest brother William, except that he was fair.
His summer blue eyes showed appreciation at what he saw in her but instead of revolting her it intrigued her.
“I hope you will do me the honor of a dance, Lady Blackhurst,” he said, giving her an assessing look.
She understood his reservations. Bellamy was his friend. She just hoped he would give her the benefit of the doubt. “I would like that, Lord Anthony, thank you.”