An Inadvisable Wager (The Curse of the Weatherby Ball Book 2) Eliza Lloyd (reading books for 7 year olds .TXT) 📖

“I will not. You know what happened. You all know and are hiding it beneath your noble exteriors.” She had all three of them in one room; she wanted to lash out at the world.

“Gentlemen, will you excuse us for a moment?” Carlow took her arm gently, but she could feel the anger vibrating through him. He led her to a private corner of the room and somehow maintained a sanguine expression. “You may believe the worst of me. You may believe me cruel and without care considering I just pledged my troth to you; however, you will apologize, Nora, or you will never see Henbury Hall again. You will never ride its hills. You will never set your feet to the house foyer or eat from the land’s bounty.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me.” Except she knew he would. She had pushed every boundary during the evening. She’d thrown pride and caution to the wind. The only thing worse would have been for him to berate her in front of his friends.

“I wouldn’t want to, but we have to come to some understanding now. There may not be love or trust, but there will be respect. And that includes to my friends,” he said.

Tears welled in her eyes. She clenched her jaw and prayed that not a single one rolled down her cheeks. She couldn’t show weakness. But she couldn’t do anything to jeopardize her opportunity to regain Henbury.

His voice softened. “This is important, Nora. Foundations have to be built on something and ours won’t endure shifting sands.”

One tear fell as she glared at Carlow. She passed a quick finger and wiped it away. She could argue. She could tell him how wrong he was. She could beg and plead, or she could act with grace and dignity and figure out a way to avenge the family’s wrongs with further planning.

She turned toward Ellis Rawden and Nash Hildebrande. “My lord Andover. Mr. Rawden. Would you please accept my apologies for such an outburst and unseemly accusations?”

They mumbled some embarrassed acceptance, after which Nora turned to make her escape. Carlow gripped her upper arm. “Our carriage is here to take us home. Gather any of your things you need and meet me in the front foyer in fifteen minutes. Also, express your goodbyes to your brother.”

Nora fled, embarrassment burning her from head to toe. She could not imagine adding another layer to her deep hatred of the three, but it was there, wrapping its dark tentacles around her heart, already cold with loathing. How could she be married to Carlow, feeling as she did?

She gulped in air and held her breath. Calm, Nora, calm.

This was part of the plan and it was working. Carlow had already agreed to the most important part of the scheme and three months was nothing to sacrifice for what she wanted most.

Nora hurried up the stairs and found her way to the room where she’d changed earlier. A lady’s maid appeared and helped remove the white dress. Nora felt awkward putting her costume on, though she didn’t have to wear her mask. If Carlow kept his word, Molly would be waiting at his home with Nora’s valise and the small travel trunk she owned.

Timothy waited for her in the foyer. Had Carlow warned him of their departure?

She hugged him, smelling the stench of drink, cigar and sweat from his night enjoying the ball’s excesses. He gripped her shoulders and spoke in low tones. “You don’t have to do this, Nora. We could leave now and never return to London again. It’s not a real marriage.”

“So, you’re saying Henbury Hall isn’t a real place? The marriage is the only road back to our home. He’s promised me.”

“He’s one of them. You don’t know if his word is good.”

“What choice do we have, Timothy? There’s no reason to rehash this plan for the one-hundredth time. We may not get the horses or the mines, but we’ve got hope for Henbury Hall. And if we get that back, your future is so much brighter. You’ll be able to marry and marry well.”

“Some would say you’ve married well.”

“That’s not very helpful, brother. I’m married. Just like all ton marriages, there is an agreement. A dowry in exchange for an heir. There is no difference in what Carlow and I have agreed to.” Admittedly, Nora’s dowry was more about intercourse and heirs. What other motivation could he have had to make their agreement?

Nora heard Carlow, still in his dancing shoes, clipping down the hall. She imagined his daily life involved a well-worn pair of calfskin boots, buff trousers and a dark coat. And maybe a loose cravat as he eschewed ton etiquette.

“Goodbye, brother. Let me know when you will return to Whitmarsh.”

“Not for a few days but do say a prayer for me. I will have to endure Reverend Wright’s sermonizing all the way without you there to counter him,” Timothy replied. “I’ll be glad to go home. I don’t think I could bear traveling on to Kent with him. Or without you.”

“I’ll send a letter to Lady Fortenay, but when you see her, reassure her she is not to worry. And tell Gigi I am sorry for the deception.”

“This was our plan. I will take the responsibility with you.”

“Hopefully, she’ll understand.”

Carlow came around the corner, neither jovial nor angry. She squeezed Timothy’s hand. “It’s all going to work out,” she whispered.

Carlow glanced at Timothy. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a chance to speak, Lord Wargrave,” he said.

“There wasn’t much time.” Timothy leaned toward Nora and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you soon, sister. My lord.” He bowed to them and walked away.

Carlow watched him depart toward the carriage, and a few moments later Reverend Wright scurried behind