A Wager for Love Read online

  Kitty flushed. "But perhaps Richard may call."

  "Richard?" If she had not been so intent on a most satisfying daydream, wherein she appeared in her new gown, and straightaway had the entire male population of London at her feet, Lavinia might have been quicker on the uptake. As it was, she merely said a little sharply, "Lud, Kitty, I dare swear Richard has a hundred better things to do than call on his sister." Then seeing the younger girl’s downcast face, she added, "Perhaps you are right. We can finish our shopping tomorrow, and it might be as well if I were to see the housekeeper today. There is a good deal to be done."

  "Won’t Saltaire be surprised when he sees our finery?"

  Lavinia answered quickly, "You are to say nothing of this to Saltaire, Kitty."

  "But why?" Kitty’s brow creased in perplexity. “Oh I have it, you want it to be a surprise?"

  "Er, yes. That’s it," responded Lavinia, thankfully. "A surprise.

  "Oh well, have it your own way," shrugged Kitty, giggling suddenly in a manner which had Lavinia looking at her speculatively, "Oh, It's nothing, Lavinia. I was just wondering what Saltaire would think of your riding habit."

  "Oh, as to that," responded Lavinia airily, "I doubt he will see me in it. Saltaire is far too busy to go riding with his wife, and to own the truth I should not wish it."

  Kitty said nothing. Young she may be, but to her mind it was not right that such a newly married lady should speak so unromantically of her husband. And such a handsome husband at that.

  What with the traffic on the roads, and the slowness of the driver, it was well into the afternoon before the two ladies eventually returned to Grosvenor Square

  . Alighting from the carriage, Lavinia instructed the impassive footman to collect their packages, as she, with Kitty in her wake, swept into the hall.

  * * *

  Lavinia was sitting at her bureau, looking at the many invitations which seemed to arrive in a never ending stream. She sighed heavily, thinking of their own ball. She must pen a note to Lady Elizabeth, requesting her assistance, and she must see the housekeeper. With such intentions in mind, she turned to Kitty who was perusing a copy of the Ladies Journal. There was a discreet tap on the door, and it opened. "My lady, Viscount Ordley and the Marquis of Andover are enquiring if you are at home?"

  Lavinia drew in her brows a little. Ordley? That was surely Saltaire's cousin, the man to whom Richard had lost the seventy thousand guineas. Before she could deny them, Kitty jumped to her feet, the book forgotten. "Callers, oh good. I vow. Lavinia, I find it vastly wearying just sitting here. Show them in."

  Before Lavinia could remonstrate with her, the visitors were being ushered into the room. Viscount Ordley advanced towards her, a rather fixed smile pinned to his heavy features. "Ah, Countess. How charming." He glanced round. "Saltaire not here? Well, never mind." He did not see fit to mention the fact that he knew Saltaire to be safely ensconced in his club. With a swift assessing glance at the ladies, he made Lavinia a genteel leg.

  She barely acknowledged his greeting, for one amazed glance at his companion had set her pulses racing. It was the man she had seen so briefly at the rout party the previous evening. He strolled easily across the floor, hardly glancing at Kitty. In the daylight he was even more attractive than she had remembered, with his aristocratic features and vivid blue eyes. He was modishly dressed in blue velvet with a quantity of foaming lace.

  Viscount Ordley could barely restrain his delight as he saw Lavinia's expression. She was far better than he had dared hope. Trust Andover to know how to make the best of the situation, he thought cynically. "Pray allow me to introduce a good friend of mine, The Marquis of Andover. He is but recently returned from France."

  Andover stepped forward and raised Lavinia’s fingers to his lips with easy grace, eyeing her a little quizzically.

  Despite her intentions, Lavinia found herself blushing a little, glad of the fact that she had found time to change into one of her new afternoon gowns. Did he hold her hand just a fraction too long? Perhaps not. But there was no mistaking the firm pressure of his warm fingers on hers.

  Ordley's voice broke the spell. "I took the liberty of calling on you, cousin, to enquire if you would care to make up a party for Lady Harrington's ridotto tomorrow night?"

  Bemused, Lavinia shook her head, a little surprised by his invitation, "I don’t really know what plans Saltaire might have."

  "SaItaire?" The Viscount's eyebrows rose in well-bred surprise. "But surely‑I thought you must know. Forgive me, if I am obtuse but . . ."

  There was an ominous silence, whilst Lavinia tried to conceal her very natural embarrassment. How foolish of her. Doubtless Saltaire would have his own plans for the evening, and just as doubtless they would not include her, but was it really necessary for him to flaunt them before the world? She frowned a little. She was behaving like the veriest country clod, but she was wary of making any definite arrangements, even though Ordley was Saltaire’s cousin. Her husband's warning still rang in her ears, and she had an uncomfortable suspicion that he would not look too kindly on such a plan.

  Before she could voice her objections. however. Kitty burst out, "Oh say we may go, Lavinia."

  "Kitty," she reproved. "You must forgive her. I fear she has but recently left the schoolroom."

  Although the words were addressed to Orrdley, it was the Marquis who replied. "Indeed a charming child. " His voice dropped a little. "But I, for my part, prefer ladies of, shall we say, a few more years."

  His meaning was quite plain. The colour came and went in Lavinia's face. A smile dimpled her mouth. "I fear you are flattering me, Sir."

  He shook his head and replied gravely, "Madam, I never flatter." This delicious compliment had her lost for words, but the Marquis, ever the gentleman, came to her rescue. "Perhaps then I may be permitted to add my pleas to those of Ordley’s. I own I should very much like you to join our little party, but, of course, if Saltaire does not . . ."

  He left the sentence unfinished, and Kitty, who had come to join them, pouted prettily, "Oh, Lavinia, please say we may Richard could come," she coaxed. "Why, it will be most pleasant. A family party."

  Lavinia smiled. Kitty was adept at twisting things to suit her own ends. A family party indeed. Kitty waited, her dark eyes shrewd. She had not missed the looks the Marquis was giving Lavinia, and was honest enough to admit to a slight feeling of jealousy. Such a vastly handsome man. Such an air. Something of the rake about him. She shivered delicately. Something dangerous and untamed. Like Saltaire himself, she realised with a start.

  Ordley, judging it time to add a little fuel to the fire he had so carefully lit, took a pinch of snuff and inhaled delicately. Making much ado about brushing away the specks from his satin, he said, "Lud, it is a rare joke. Saltaire has become so convenable since he got the title. I swear one wouldn’t know him if it weren’t . . ." His speculative eyes rested just for a second on Kitty. "It don't seem a few months since he was setting the town by the ears."

  "Why? What did he do?" asked the irrepressible Kitty, whilst Lavinia sighed, stifling a small feeling of dislike for her cousin by marriage.

  Ordley raised one eyebrow, his eyes malicious. "Well. I’m afraid I cannot really . . ."

  Andover cut in smoothly. "Really, Ordley, I’m afraid you are becoming positively boring, isn't he, Countess? Surely we needn’t waste the whole afternoon discussing Saltaire’s peccadillos?"

  Lavinia shot him a grateful glance, but, despite their pleas, she steadfastly refused to give in to the gentlemen’s entreaties to join their party, and thus it was with many regrets that they eventually took their leave.

  Once the door had closed behind them, Kitty rounded on Lavinia, eyes sparkling. "Why, Lavinia, I declare it is vastly unfeeling of you. It would have been a most enjoyable evening."

  "Nonsense, Kitty," said Lavinia firmly. "It would not have been at all the thing to do, and if you had one atom of sense in your head, you would have known that for yourself."
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br />   "Sense‑me?" interjected Kitty, feeling extremely put out. "Well, it wasn’t me who spent the whole afternoon flirting, and exchanging languishing glances with a certain gentleman."

  "Rubbish," retorted Lavinia crisply. Her colour high, nevertheless, she continued, “l hope I would never indulge in anything so vulgar as 'flirting'. Really, Kitty. Now I’m going to see the housekeeper about this ball. Do you wish to come with me or not?" Kitty nodded sulkily.

  As they sought out Mrs. Johnson, Lavinia’s eyes were thoughtful. She may have been living a quiet cloistered life in Rome and be unused to society, but she was not quite so naive as to think that goodwill and goodwill alone lay behind Ordley’s visit. Of course, it could merely have been curiosity that had prompted the visit. But she doubted it. Ordley had lost a good deal of money by her marriage, Richard’s seventy thousand guineas being not the least of it, and she had not missed the looks Ordley had given the Marquis. She experienced a twinge of unease. She had no wish to be used by Ordley to score off against Saltaire. A smile crossed her face, and Kitty seeing it wondered at it, for it was both gay and mischievous. So Ordley thought he would make use of her, did he? And the Marquis? Was that in his mind too? For a second, Lavinia felt disappointed. "Idiot," she scolded herself. Surely she had not fallen for a handsome face‑and at her age too. It was not to be thought of. But still, a small voice prompted, it would do no harm to encourage the Marquis a little. just in the admirable cause of making her husband see that his wife was not complacent, she reassured herself virtuously.

  She had no time to ponder further on the matter, for the housekeeper was hurrying towards them. "You wanted me, My Lady?"

  Lavinia smiled warmly. "Yes indeed, Mrs Johnson. I fear I am greatly in need of your help."

  A look of patent relief crossed the woman’s rosy face. "Oh as to that, My Lady, whatever I can do to help . . ."

  "You may not be so pleased when you learn what I have in mind," broke in Lavinia. "The Earl wishes us to give a ball."

  Mrs. Johnson was instantly obliging. "A ball is it, My Lady. Dear me. it must be two score years at least since any ball was held here. The old Earl, My Lord's grandfather that was, he never went out much after Saltaire’s father died. Hit him hard it did. Alexander was, of course, always his favourite, being the eldest. My Lord was born three months afterwards. Quite put Jeffery out. Well, Alexander had been married a dozen years or more then and no sign of a child, then for a boy to be born and posthumously, and Jeffery there with his own son. Ten years old he was at the time. Why I remember it quite clearly. When he saw the baby, if looks could have killed. . ."

  She chattered on the whole while as they climbed the stairs, pausing for a second outside the large double doors leading to the ballroom to catch her breath. "There, My Lady. Now if you will allow me. It will be plaguey dusty in there. Not but that we keep it well aired and as clean as possible," she assured Lavinia. "But the furniture is all under hollands, and has been these ten years past."

  The housekeeper opened the doors, and for a moment all three women contemplated the room in silence. Once it would have been exceedingly fine. The delicate plasterwork of the ceiling and fine moulded wall panels proclaimed that. But it was distinctly shabby now. The ceiling was festooned with cobwebs; whatever colour the room had been painted in its prime, it had faded to a dingy grey. The curtainless windows yawned emptily onto the square.

  "To be sure, it isn’t what it should be. But what with such a small household, and as I say the old Earl didn’t . . ."

  "I'm sure you have done your best, Mrs. Johnson," said Lavinia gently. This was dreadful, so much worse than she had ever imagined. How dare Saltaire even think of giving a ball. She ground her teeth. He must have known of the room’s state when he told her of his intentions. Well, if he thought she was going to give in and admit she was bested, he would have to think again, for she wouldn't. She had said she would manage and manage she would.

  Kitty advanced carefully into the room, her slippered feet leaving small prints on the dusty floor. Gingerly she pulled back one of the covers, dislodging a shower of dust. "Oh. Lavinia, look at this furniture. It is so old fashioned."

  Squaring her shoulders, Lavinia pulled the doors to, "Well, Mrs. Johnson, there is a great deal to be done, but between us I am sure it can be accomplished."

  The woman smiled in relief’. "Yes indeed, My Lady, perhaps we will need more servants?"

  "Certainly. Take on as many as you think fit," said Lavinia, smiling grimly at the look of surprised pleasure on the housekeeper’s face. Doubtless she would think her generous with Saltaire’s money‑if only she knew. But then, reflected Lavinia hollowly, the entire servants, hall was probably abuzz with the news that the Earl had married an heiress for a wager. Quickly pushing this unwelcome thought to the back of her mind, Lavinia outlined her plans. "You will engage painters, I dare swear you know of reputable ones."

  Lavinia was thinking of her bedroom, someone must have arranged for that to be refurbished. The housekeeper nodded. "Good. I want the room painted." She thought for a second, and then, a small smile playing round her mouth, said, "I have a colour in mind‑golden lemon. And the plasterwork is to be picked out in white."

  Kitty clapped her hands. "Why. Lavinia, how clever‑to match your dress. Lud, I’m glad I shall be wearing white, for anything else would clash hideously with the room."

  Lavinia smiled in agreement. Indeed it would. "The furniture needs to be regilded," she continued, "and the chairs recovered, in blonde satin I think, but no doubt you can procure some patterns for me."

  "But what about the decorations for the ball?,’ queried Kitty. "Last night the rooms were hung with painted silk. I thought it vastly becoming."

  "Well. we shall not be having painted silk," said Lavinia determinedly.

  "What then?"

  "Flowers, fresh flowers, masses and masses of them. The entire room will be arranged like a garden, with coloured lights, and perhaps even a waterfall."

  Kitty and the housekeeper exchanged doubtful looks. "Fresh flowers? But . . ."

  "Yes, I have seen it done in Rome. I assure you it will be very attractive. Wait and see," she promised.

  Her confidence returning with every minute, Lavinia started to enlarge upon her plans, and continued to do so, until the dinner gong put an end to their discussions. "Is that the time? Come, Kitty, we shall be late. Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. If there are any difficulties at all, please let me know."

  * * *

  When Lavinia entered the dining room, Saltaire was already there. Deliberately she had not put on any of the new dresses she had purchased, despite the fact that her closet was now overflowing with them, and there were still a good many to come. As her husband's eyes flickered over her, she derived a certain grim pleasure in contemplating his surprise when he did see her in her finery.

  Fortunately Kitty was too full of their doings to notice this strange omission, and, carefully avoiding the Earl’s eyes, Lavinia found herself glad of Kitty's bright chatter. Her thoughts on their ball and the problems it was causing, she paid scant heed to what Kitty was saying until she caught her own name. Glancing up quickly, she found Saltaire’s eyes resting on her in a distinctly unpleasant manner.

  "Perhaps you would care to tell me how it comes about that you made the acquaintance of these gentlemen?"

  "'What gentlemen?" asked Lavinia nervously, noting with dismay Kitty's flushed cheeks. What on earth had Kitty been saying?

  "My cousin Ordley, and the er, who was it now, ah yes, the Marquis of Andover."

  "They called this afternoon, " she replied calmly, continuing to eat her dinner.

  "Yes indeed, nothing could have been more convenable," added Kitty gaily.

  "l see, my cousin, you say?"

  "Only think, Saltaire, they proposed the most delightful scheme‑a party for Lady Harrington's ridotto."

  For a second the green eyes rested on Lavinia's face. The Earl seemed a little less than enchanted with
the invitation; that much was obvious. "I hope I may take it that you refused?"

  "What?" Kitty was outraged. "Oh, but there, your cousin said you would forbid it, didn’t he, Lavinia?'I vow 'tis most disagreeable of you, especially when . . ." Kitty faltered and fell silent as she saw the look on the Earl’s face.

  Carefully he refilled his wine glass. "Yes, you were saying Kitty?"

  "Oh it is nothing. Merely that Viscount Ordley remarked that you had become extraordinarily convenable of late. But I still don’t see why we should not go." She appealed to Lavinia. "You want to go, don’t you?" She giggled a little. "You should have been there, Saltaire. Why I declare the Marquis was quite bowled over by Lavinia. He held her hand for a full minute."

  Lavinia was conscious of a dreadful sinking feeling in the region of her stomach. The delicious piece of chicken she had just been eating suddenly resembled sawdust.