The Wedding Wager (5 page)

She couldn’t allow this to happen. If worst came to worst, she would have to ask Julian to release her from their agreement. There was no way he could force her to uphold her side of the bargain, after all. However, he would think it dishonorable of her to back out at the last minute. He would be disappointed, even angry. Even if he eventually forgave her, their friendship would never be the same.

Harry felt tears prick her eyelids at the thought. Gloomily, she decided that the best thing that could happen was if some lady who didn’t care about the rumors of his engagement, perhaps one seeking a casual liaison, lured Julian into losing the wager. But at this late date, could she count on such a thing happening?

* * *

That week, Julian was annoyed to find that despite the word of his engagement, the betting-books at several gaming establishments now recorded wagers on how long his resolution would hold.

Not only did he have to deal with the widowed countess who stole into his carriage prior to his leaving the theater, and others like her, he now had to deal with various members of the feminine sex who had been hired by those wishing to profit by his moral downfall.

By now, however, he was grimly determined to succeed. He knew she would never admit it, but he suspected Harry would be hurt if he was unfaithful, now that all of society thought them engaged. He wouldn’t hurt her for anything, so every time temptation beckoned, he thought of her and the estate, and the new life he planned, and found it was not so very difficult to resist.

Even when several enterprising young bucks smuggled a lovely ladybird in a state of full undress into Julian’s bedchamber, he managed to give her her marching orders with very little regret.

Still, sometimes he felt he would explode with longing for all the pleasures he’d had to forego.

The following week, Julian visited Harry as usual, and also spent a few additional days in Kent becoming more familiar with the details of his estate and starting several projects for its improvement. Harry enjoyed his visit more than ever, but her pleasure in his company was tinged with a sadness at the knowledge that this lovely period in her life would soon be over.

Julian was so eager, and so full of plans, that she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to cancel their wager. Afterwards, she berated herself for her weakness, but more than ever, she hoped that something would happen to keep her from having to end things in such a way.

She didn’t know what was wrong with all the ladies in London, but it seemed that this Season they weren’t pursuing Julian with anything like their usual enthusiasm. After another week of worry and indecision, Harry decided it was time to take matters into her own hands.

* * *

Lady Dearing and Troubador certainly made a lovely picture together, Harry thought as she watched the widow take the dappled gray gelding through his paces. Lady Dearing, in her snugly-fitted sapphire blue habit and matching hat, would have been striking on any mount, but she and Troubadour were sure to create quite a sensation the next time she rode in Hyde Park.

Harry suppressed an unexpected pang of envy at the sight. She truly was glad to see Troubadour go to such a kind mistress, and she reminded herself that she wouldn’t care for the fashionable life Lady Dearing led. One couldn’t go for a brisk gallop in Hyde Park.

“What a delightful creature he is!” exclaimed Lady Dearing as she rode back toward the paddock gate where Harry awaited her. “I will take him, at the price we discussed last time.”

“I am delighted you are pleased with him,” said Harry.

“No, the pleasure is mine. I do so like dealing with you, Miss Woodford. Men invariably behave condescendingly when a female wishes to choose her own horses; they always think they know better what will suit her than she does!”

Harry smiled, glad of Lady Dearing’s willingness to behave unconventionally. It boded well for her own plans.

After Lady Dearing had dismounted and handed the reins to a groom waiting nearby to take Troubadour back to the stables, Harry invited her inside for refreshments. After they settled themselves in the drawing room, and a maidservant brought some tea and cakes, Harry gathered her courage to make her request.

“Miss Woodford, is there something amiss?”

“No, not at all,” said Harry, realizing she had been fidgeting with her cup. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of what she was about to ask. “It is merely that I wish to ask a favor of you. You might think it rather odd.”

“What is it? You have me all agog with curiosity!”

“Would you please—could you—I would be very grateful if you could induce Lord Debenham to kiss you.”

There. The words were said. No doubt Lady Dearing thought her a lunatic, Harry surmised even as she tried to gauge Lady Dearing’s expression.

“You would like me to do
what
?” Lady Dearing’s low, musical voice rose to a high note as she looked quizzically at Harry.

Harry’s confidence wavered as she repeated her request. “I w-would like you to meet with Lord Debenham, and—and entice him into kissing you.”

“But my dear Miss Woodford! I was under the impression that the two of you were betrothed. Was I wrong?”

“No—well, yes. I think I must explain.”

“Please do,” said Lady Dearing, an amused smile playing about her lips.

Harry noted the smile with a measure of relief. She’d already decided she would have to trust Lady Dearing with the whole story, and she was glad to see that Lady Dearing didn’t appear to think that Harry had completely lost her senses. So she told her the entire history of Julian’s proposal and their wager, ending with a reiteration of her request for Lady Dearing to use her charms to Julian’s undoing.

“But Miss Woodford—oh, why are we being so formal? My name is Olivia, but my friends call me Livvy. You are Harriet, are you not?”

“Harry, please.”

“Harry,” repeated Lady Dearing, her voice like a sisterly caress. “Do you truly wish to end your engagement to Debenham? He is such a delightful young man, don’t you think?”

“Of course, but we have been friends for so many years, we are practically sister and brother. How could such a marriage succeed?”

“Merely by your learning to regard each other as something quite different,” Lady Dearing replied with a little trill of a laugh.

“I don’t wish to offend you, La—Livvy, but I cannot think it so simple. Julian and I lead such different lives. He loves London society, I prefer to stay here. Besides, I am not the sort of female men truly wish to marry.”

“How do you know that?”

Harry felt Lady Dearing’s brilliant blue eyes upon her. She might have been offended at the close scrutiny had she not noticed the kind interest in Lady Dearing’s expression, and the gentleness in her voice.

“One Season in London was enough to convince me,” she said, hoping Lady Dearing would take the hint and not question her any further. “In any case, I am perfectly content with my life the way it is, and I’m certain that marriage with Julian would be a disaster for both of us. All he’s thinking about is gaining control of his estate. He doesn’t realize that one day he may fall in love with someone, and
really
wish to marry her. I don’t want to stand in his way when that happens.”

Harry bit her lip, and looked away in embarrassment. She felt as if she was about to cry, but that was foolish. She was doing what was best for both her and Julian, so there was absolutely no reason to be dismal about it.

“So why don’t you just tell him so? He cannot force you to marry him, and I’m sure he wouldn’t do it, if he knew the strength of your feelings against the match.”

“I may be obliged to do that, but Julian would be so angry! He will say I broke faith with him. It would be so much better if he just lost the wager. Then, he might realize he’s not ready to marry yet. He might not rush out to find someone else.”

“You may be right. It seems as if it would be a good thing if he were to lose the wager,” said Lady Dearing, thoughtfully. After a pause, she added, “But why are you asking
me
to lead him into temptation?”

Lady Dearing’s expression was difficult to read. Harry worried suddenly that her friend had taken offense at the suggestion. Lady Dearing always seemed so cheerful about her reputation as a merry widow; but it was possible that her carefree attitude hid an unexpected sensitivity.

“Well, it seems that none of the ladies in London have tried very hard to engage Julian’s attention,” Harry replied cautiously. She saw a twinkle in Lady Dearing’s eye; relieved, she continued. “You are so very beautiful, and lively. I am sure you could tempt Julian, if only you tried.”

Harry sat silently watching as Lady Dearing stared absently out the window for a few moments. Finally, the widow turned her gaze back at Harry, with a decisive expression on her face.

“Well, my dear Harry, I’ve thought about it, and I have decided to help you.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” Impulsively, Harry got up from her chair. She was about to embrace Lady Dearing when the widow held up a hand in a halting gesture.

“But I cannot do exactly what you have requested. You see, I have a—how should I explain it? Oh, you are no missish little girl! I can tell you. I already have a gentleman friend, a lover if you will. Unfortunately he is of a rather jealous nature so it is out of the question at present for me to try to flirt with your Julian. Contrary to what you might have heard, I am
not
the sort of woman who finds it amusing to have men fight over her. You would not wish your friend to be hurt over me, would you?”

“No, of course not,” said Harry, despondent. What other sort of help could Lady Dearing possibly have to give her? “Do you know of some other lady who can do this?” she asked.

“Yes, I do.” A triumphant little smile played about Lady Dearing’s lips.

“Who is it?” Harry asked eagerly.

“You, dear.”

Harry flinched as Lady Dearing’s maid inserted another pin into her hair, and wondered for perhaps the hundredth time why she had ever allowed Lady Dearing to persuade her into this masquerade. At the time, it had seemed her only option, but it was clearly hopeless. She was a dowd, and an antidote, and no disguise could transform her into the sort of female that would attract Julian’s notice.

“Stop twitching, dear. We are almost done,” said Lady Dearing.

Harry forced herself to sit still, wondering what she would see when Lady Dearing allowed her to look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t know why Lady Dearing seemed so amused, or why she was so determined that Harry not see herself until every finishing detail was in place. All Harry could feel was trepidation. However, there was nothing to do now but to forge ahead with their plan.

“There. What do you think, my lady?” asked Lady Dearing’s maid.

“It is perfect. Dear Harry, come and see how well you look!”

Obediently, she got up and walked over to the oval cheval glass in the corner of Lady Dearing’s dressing room.

And froze.

She was indeed transformed. She knew her hair had been dyed, but she hadn’t suspected how different her face would look framed in raven-black locks, braided and looped in an elaborate classical style, with a slender silver cord threaded through it. Lady Dearing herself had applied a subtle layer of powder and rouge over her face, and darkened her lips with a bright red salve.

Even without a mask, Harry could barely recognize herself. Perhaps there was a chance Julian would not recognize her. But would he find her at all appealing?

Then she looked at her dress, and gasped.

“Oh dear!” she exclaimed. “Your dressmaker made it too short. My ankles are in full view!”

Lady Dearing only chuckled. “And very pretty ankles they are, too. Now Harry, this is no time to be a prude.”

“I’m not a prude, but I have no desire to look foolish!” she retorted, noting with shock the way the filmy white silk draped about her figure, leaving one shoulder and breast practically bare.

“Nonsense! You are lovely. What a crime to have hidden such a figure away all these years! I am truly envious. Here, put on the sandals.”

Harry sat down, and allowed Lady Dearing’s maid to lace a pair of silver sandals around her feet. The sandals were just as scandalous as the rest of her apparel.

“Don’t look so frightened, you goose!” said Lady Dearing in a heartening tone. “You could break hearts tonight, if you wish.

Wait, you need a little scent.”

Harry sneezed and rebelled at the heady perfume Lady Dearing offered, and after a few minutes of discussion they compromised on a lighter floral scent, which Harry dabbed onto her wrists and throat as Lady Dearing directed.

“Very well, then,” said Lady Dearing. “Here are your mask and domino, and don’t forget the arrows and quiver. Of course, you must wear the domino open for the best effect. And remember to keep your mask on!”

Harry put on the shimmering white cloak, and took the half mask from Lady Dearing. She put it on, and observed the effect in the mirror. It was a lovely, silvery thing, adorned with a crescent moon that arched exotically over her forehead. She slung the little quiver of fake arrows over one shoulder, and the toy silver bow over the other, and stifled a nervous giggle. The goddess Diana!