A Gentleman's Wager Read Online Free PDF Page A

she hissed. ‘What would your aunt say?’
    Louisa didn’t take it as a joke. She covered her oval face with one hand, hiding her expression. ‘I don’t know,’ she murmured through her fingers. ‘Something horrid, I expect. That she should never have let me come here.’
    ‘You’re of age.’
    ‘I know, but you don’t know what she’s like. She thinks any man under the age of fifty is a libertine and a scoundrel who’s only after one thing, so the only men I meet are stuffy, balding, and fawn over me as if I’m some sort of doll. It’s maddening. Frederick’s six times as good as any of them.’
    Bella valiantly resisted the urge to smile. She’d never seen Louisa quite so animated. ‘She’s not here, Lou. You can do what you want, with whomever you want. I’m not going to tell her, and Joshua’s easy to fool.’ She clasped her friend’s cold hand and drew her indoors. ‘Come on, forget it. Tell me more about Wakefield instead. What regiment’s he from?’
    ‘The 33rd Regiment of Foot, Yorkshire West Riding,’ she recited carefully. ‘Under Colonel Wesley. He was fighting in Flanders until last year.’
    Later that night, Louisa turned feverishly in bed, tangling her legs in the sweat-soaked sheets. Perspiration ran down her neck and over the pulse point, to pool in the triangular indent by her collarbone. A low, telling moan escaped her lips. She writhed, arched her back and clawed at the cotton beneath her, then with a shudder she awoke.
    Within the shrouded four-poster bed, everything was black. Parched and sleepy, she felt for the edge of the curtain, so that she could reach out for the glass of water on the bedside cabinet. Its coolness rolled past her knuckles then, with a horrid clatter, it fell to the floor.
    ‘Blast!’ she cursed, and stuck her head below the curtains to see the intact but now empty glass. The liquid formed a slightly darker patch on the carpet, which was cool against her feet once she’d swung her legs free of the bedclothes.
    There’d be port – something – in the dining room, and she simply had to have something to drink. Rainwater would do. For the first time she realised it was raining outside. Out on the landing, she heard the muffled patter of large heavy drops bouncing off the tiled roof, streaming into the gutters. Shimmering rivulets ran down the other side of the panes.
    The hall clock struck a quarter to two as she espied the tray of decanters, and swallowed a mouthful of the first that came to hand. Fire rippled down her throat, making her eyes water. Brandy, quite coarse. She coughed, and found the port instead.
    Across from her, the tell-tale flicker of light spilled from the back parlour. Thinking someone had forgotten to blow out the candles, she delayed her return to bed to investigate. It was hardly likely that anyone was still up this late, yet something stopped her pushing the door fully open. There was barely more than a breath of sound coming from within, so low she strained to hear it, but it made her cautious as she peered around the jamb.
    It took a moment for the scene to register. Joshua was sitting in the old green armchair, facing her, his shirt unbuttoned so his chest hair was on show. To his left, a candelabra cast flickering light over his shoulder, but knelt before him with her plump round bottom on display was Emma, Bella’s maid. She was wearing only her stockings and stays. The rest of her clothing was strewn about the floor.
    Louisa leaned against the doorframe in mute shock, with her heartbeat sounding like a bass drum in her ears. She shook her head in denial, stunned by what she beheld. Maybe there was some sense to her aunt’s warnings. She remembered what Bella had once told her about her grandfather, a notorious roué who’d split from the family, established the mine and built Wyndfell Grange. Evidently Joshua had the same degenerate streak. Anyway, it was disgusting.
    Appalled, she took another peek at the lewd pair.