The Wedding Wager (4 page)

She looked away, unsettled by his confidence but unwilling to let him see it.

“More likely you’re afraid your resolution is about to crack, and you are trying to get round me with your cajolery. It won’t work,” she said, shooting again. Her second shot was no better than the first.

“Very well, but you can’t fault me for trying,” said Julian. He shot again, and Harry saw his third arrow strike the target less than an inch from the bull’s eye.

She caught him watching her as she prepared for her third shot, still with that roguish smile on his lips. She felt an errant blush creep into her cheek. She couldn’t help it; the way Julian acted, it was dangerously easy to think he really wanted her. Of course, a rake would have to have just such winning ways in order to be so successful.

She let the arrow fly, but this time she was unsurprised to see it go far wide of the mark. Clearly, her wager with Julian was playing havoc with her composure.

“Have you had enough?” asked Julian, grinning.

She nodded, suppressing the foolish, competitive urge to continue. In her current state of mind she wouldn’t be able to shoot straight, and Julian would tease her mercilessly.

“Let us just walk a little, then. I have a favor to ask you,” said Julian.

“What is it?” she asked. The wheedling tone in his voice aroused her suspicion; she wondered if his earlier request had been made only to soften her in preparation for what he really wanted to ask her.

“Can I tell my uncles that I’ve offered for you?”

Of course, she thought, with an unexpected, foolish little pang. She had almost forgotten that his uncles were the reason behind his proposal and their bet. She had almost forgotten that she was not the sort of female to inspire any gentleman with such ardent impatience to marry her.

“No,” she replied, hoping her voice didn’t betray her irrational disappointment. “It’s against the rules we agreed upon.”

“We could agree to change the rules.”

“Why would I want to do that?” she said, lifting her chin a little.

“If I tell my uncles I’ve offered for you, I think they might be persuaded to allow me a hand in managing the estate.”

The thought of Julian’s uncles and his estate steadied her. “I see that that could be a good thing,” she replied. “But won’t they be disappointed when we don’t marry?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “We
will
marry. In any case, I don’t intend to lie to them. I’ll just tell them I plan to marry you, which is nothing more than the truth. I know it’s not enough to convince them to end the trust, but for now all I want is to be allowed to make some changes in how things are being run.”

Harry struggled to resist the appeal in his eyes. Julian was acting impetuously, and if she didn’t stop him, it would hurt them both.

“I don’t see why you must be in such a great hurry,” she protested.

“There are so many things that need doing here. I may not know as much as I should about farming, but even I can tell we’re years behind. There are some improvements I’d like to make
this
season, not next. And some of the laborers’ cottages are desperately in need of repair. I don’t want them to have to wait any longer. Please, Harry, will you help me?”

Harry looked down, troubled. What Julian said was true. The Ardleigh estate could not be said to be rundown, but still it would benefit from more vigorous and far-sighted management. Harry knew that beneath his gaiety, Julian cared for his land, and for the tenants and laborers who worked it. In time he’d make a splendid landlord. It was a crying shame that his uncles didn’t recognize that fact, and that they were practically forcing him into an impetuous marriage in order to earn their approval.

Then it occurred to her that she might be able to help Julian without actually committing to marry him. As he’d suggested, he could just tell his uncles he’d offered for her. They would never suspect she’d refused him. Perhaps it was the tiniest bit deceitful to let them think that, but it would be worth it, for Julian’s sake.

After a decent interval, she could cry off from the pretended arrangement. Hopefully by that time, Julian’s uncles would be convinced of his competence to take over the estate. Julian would get what he wanted, and have something more meaningful to do with his life than merely racketing about London. He wouldn’t have to rush into a doomed marriage with her or anyone else, before he was truly ready to settle down.

Of course, he wouldn’t
want
to marry her then. Firmly, Harry told herself that it would be a great relief not to have him plaguing her to do so any more.

She took a deep breath. “Very well,” she said. “You can tell your uncles you have offered for me, but you must swear them to secrecy. If they ask, tell them you know I would hate all the fuss and attention an engagement would bring. I’m known to be a recluse, so they shouldn’t be surprised.”

Smiling, Julian hooked an arm around her waist, and swung her around in a broad circle. “Thank you! I knew you would help me.”

“Set me down!” she insisted, and after one more circles, he did so.

Harry felt quite breathless and dizzy, no doubt from the spinning. She looked around. Fortunately, there was no one about.

“What if someone had seen us?” she scolded, when she had caught her breath.

“They would realize we are a courting couple,” he replied.

She looked away, to hide the blush that had sprung back into her cheeks, and reminded herself of the motives behind Julian’s behavior.

He didn’t desire her, despite his apparent eagerness. For the first time, Harry found herself shaken by a real fear that he might win the wager. At the same time, a tiny voice inside her suggested she wished it, too. If Julian proved faithful for three months, didn’t that mean something?

The internal voice of reason intervened, reminding Harry that she didn’t love Julian, and that a few months of happiness - for surely that would be as long as it would last - were nothing when compared to a lifetime of regret for both of them. She had to prevent that at all costs, but now that she had agreed to delude his uncles, was she encouraging Julian to think he might succeed?

“I hope I’m doing the right thing,” she murmured, half to herself.

“Of course you are,” Julian answered in a comforting voice. “What could possibly go wrong?”

* * *

As Julian predicted, his uncles were delighted when he invited them to his London house to notify them of his intention to marry Harriet.

In their eyes, she was the most suitable of brides. Certainly, her passion for horses and preference for country life made her a bit of an Eccentric, but her reputation was spotless, the Woodford name an old and respected one, and her prospective inheritance large enough to be a welcome addition to the already considerable Ardleigh fortune.

Impressed with their nephew’s good judgment, they readily agreed to send letters to the Ardleigh steward directing him to begin taking his orders from young Lord Debenham. They also promised Julian that on his wedding day, they would commence the legal procedures required to formally end the trust.

With some reluctance, they acquiesced to Julian’s request to keep the matter quiet. It was a bit odd of the young lady to prefer a secret engagement, but it was no great matter after all.

Of course, they reasoned, Julian couldn’t possibly have meant them to keep such good news from their own wives . . .

A few days later, Julian found Harry in the Woodford stables, changing a poultice. Julian recognized the injured horse as an elderly hack that Harry still rode occasionally. It was like her to attend to the loyal old beast herself, rather than leaving the task to a groom.

He waited patiently as she finished fastening the bandage, patted the afflicted horse and straightened up. Then he cleared his voice before announcing his presence.

“Hello, Harry.”

She turned, and a delighted smile lit up her face.

“Julian! What brings you here today?” she asked as she came out of the stall into the stable yard.

Julian decided she looked rather fetching, even with a wisp of straw caught in the thick coil of hair atop her head. On impulse, he reached a hand up and brushed it away.

“I have something to tell you,” he said, and regretted seeing her smile fade. Did he see the hint of a blush in her face?

“What is it?” she asked, moving away from him and beginning to walk toward the house. “Have you come to tell me I’ve won our little wager?”

Was it his imagination, or did her voice sound a trifle brittle? This was turning out to be more difficult even than he had expected.

“No, not exactly,” he replied. “Let’s take a turn about the garden, so we can speak privately.”

They reached the garden in silence, and began to stroll between beds full of irises, larkspur and early roses. He looked over at Harry. Her cheeks still seemed slightly flushed. She looked uncharacteristically nervous, and yet appealing at the same time. She walked briskly, yet she moved with her usual athletic grace.

He could see she was ill at ease with the prospect of marriage with him, and longed to reassure her. She’d clearly never even been kissed. Lately, he’d found himself thinking how much he’d enjoy teaching her such pleasures, and trying to picture what charms she hid beneath those curst dowdy gowns of hers. However, her matter-of-fact manner had discouraged him from making any advances.

Now he feared he might never get the chance.

“So, what is it?” Harry asked, interrupting his train of thought.

He cleared his throat before replying. “I told my uncles I’d offered for you.”

“And?”

“They were delighted, and they agreed to allow me a hand in running the estate.”

“I am happy to hear that. But that isn’t what you came to tell me, is it?” she asked, looking sharply at him. “You told them you offered for me, and they told someone else. Is that it?”

He nodded, unsure whether to be glad or sorry of her perspicacity. He looked at her face, but it was strangely expressionless.

“Well then, you’ve broken the rules, so I win.”

“No,” he argued. “You agreed to change the rules so I could tell my uncles. It’s not my fault they told my aunts, who told everybody else.”

“But the fact remains that the wager is no longer valid, now that everyone thinks you’re engaged to marry me. You’ll have to deny the engagement.”

“How can I do that? I’d look a damned fool to my uncles, and then it’ll be five more years before they let me do anything.”

“I shall cry off, then.”

Damn! Somehow it hurt to hear how eager Harry was to end the wager. More than ever, Julian was convinced they’d make a perfect match. The trouble was, how could he convince her?

“I’ve a better idea,” he said. “You have to admit, I was winning the wager, so you can’t say I’m a rake any more. You can’t deny you’ve enjoyed our times together, so you can’t say we don’t suit. Why don’t we just sent notice of our engagement to the papers and be done with it?”

Harry was silent, and again her expression was hard to read. She had never been so reserved with him before; the strange sense of hurt he’d been feeling increased.

“Why don’t you say something?” he coaxed. “Do you really think it would be so awful to be married to me?”

“No, of course not,” she said, beginning to climb the steps into the house.

Her tone this time was warmer, more encouraging. Or perhaps she was just trying to spare his feelings.

“So you’ll marry me?”

“I didn’t say that,” she replied swiftly.

“Will you at least allow me the chance to win our wager?”

She glanced at him briefly, then looked away.

“Very well,” she said. “There is still a month left, after all.”

With that, he had to be content.

* * *

That afternoon, after Julian left, Harry went for a long ride. It had been a struggle to maintain a cheerful facade so that neither he, Papa nor Aunt Claudia would guess at the jumbled state of her emotions.

She should have insisted that they cancel the wager, but Julian had looked so hurt that she’d given in to his pleading. She was clearly a fool; it was really beginning to look as if Julian would win.

She’d be an even greater fool if she flattered herself that Julian was persevering for her sake. Although he was clearly convinced that marriage would benefit them both, she had to remember that all he really wanted was control of the Ardleigh estate.

Why hadn’t she remembered that Julian could show great resolution when something he really wanted was at stake? In fact, she didn’t doubt now that he could remain faithful to a wife that he loved. He’d make some fortunate lady a wonderful husband one day. Why did the thought make her feel just a trifle forlorn?

Shaking her head, she rode on.

More than ever, Harry was certain that friendship alone would not ensure a happy marriage. Thinking over the past weeks, she realized it would be easy enough to develop a
tendre
for Julian, if she allowed herself to do so. However, that would only make matters worse, for it was impossible to imagine him returning her feelings.