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

“Have we been tied together all along, Carlow? Was I destined to seek you out for answers?”

“Maybe, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

“It seems as if yet another year has passed for us.”

“That can’t be. We have not spent enough time in bed for that to be true.”

She laughed, happy that at least Carlow wasn’t so troubled by the turmoil around him. “I wish you would stop being kind to me. I don’t deserve it.”

“Nora, you have done nothing but amuse me since the night we met. I can certainly be kind in return. But I do want to know that we are in agreement going forward.” Carlow went on about getting the Bradys acclimated to life at Whitmarsh. Returning to London would follow.

“But what about Timothy? Shouldn’t we take him with us to Henbury?”

Carlow pushed to his feet and brushed his hands together. “I don’t think that is a good idea at this point. And he hasn’t asked.”

Nora got to her feet, ignoring Carlow’s hand, but tripped on one of the wooden boards. The diary escaped her grip and flew upward. She squealed and reached for it. Carlow caught her upper arm and reached for the book, catching it as it tumbled toward the water, the pages fluttering.

He hefted it, then handed it back. “At least you now know you don’t want to lose it,” he offered matter-of-factly.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling it close her chest again. She took a deep breath. “About Timothy—there is plenty of room. I promise he won’t be in the way. And you’ll be there to guide him about this courtship opportunity with Cecily Sheldrick.”

“He is young. I don’t think we should…encourage this pursuit. At least not yet.”

“Why not?” she asked as they strolled down the dock and stepped into the grassy growth around the pond. “She is from a very good family. And you and I would be there to chaperone him. I wouldn’t agree to anything unless we knew the family first. I don’t know. There are so many reasons to pursue such a marriage but it doesn’t seem right.”

“I just find it strange that in the few weeks I’ve known you and Timothy, the Duke of Exeter’s name has inserted itself into your life in odd ways. I can easily accept the first one. Properties are lost and gained every year. I am less accepting of the second. Of all the young, unmarried debutants in London, Timothy just happens to be enamored with the Duke of Exeter’s granddaughter. I know events forty or fifty years apart should be entirely coincidental.”

Weak with a sudden fear, she sat in the grass, her skirts pooling around her. Some past words bothered her. And a pearl necklace.

“Nora?”

“I have to read some of this now.”

“We can return to the house, where it’s a little more comfortable.”

“No, Carlow! We can’t. Three generations of Blasingtons have some connection to the duke. It’s no longer a coincidence.” She reached up for her husband, who in three weeks had become her confidante and protector. “Sit with me. Please.”

As he sat beside her, she had such a longing for a private moment together, here on the grass-covered shore of Berber’s Pond, where they should have been picnicking instead of discovering family secrets that had torn at her since she was eight.

She touched the cover, but Carlow placed his hand over hers. “It’s not too late to change your mind. Once you read it, there will be no altering or refuting her words.”

Nora nodded, taking strength from his compassionate gaze.

She opened the book and read the first entry aloud.

“I will never forgive George for what he has done. The children are lost to me, but at least their guardians will care for them, maybe more than I ever could. Exeter has come for me, as he promised.” Nora’s heart thumped hard against her chest. “We can start our new life together.”

She took a deep breath and closed the book. Carlow said nothing.

“It is worse than I could have imagined.” Nora felt the blood leave her face. “Carlow!” She gripped his arm. “Tosh! I thought it was just some insignificant thing in my mother’s diary. I thought she had some small attraction to him, maybe even an entanglement. He gave her a pearl necklace. And I lied to you about him. When you first mentioned Exeter, I was reminded of what my mother’s diary said. It is not a small thing.”

“No, I don’t think it is.”

* * * * *

Carlow secreted the diary away in his valise. Nora made him promise not to read another word until they had returned to London. And they hadn’t discussed the contents of the first page of the diary since Mr. and Mrs. Brady arrived, keeping everyone busy that evening.

The first statement in her mother’s diary was a startling admission given anyone could have read it between then and now. Maybe the last page of the diary should have been read first. Carlow was perfectly willing to know the end of the story rather than everything that led up to it. Nora, and maybe Timothy, might need to be eased into whatever truths were revealed by the late Lady Wargrave.

Nora was already buried deep in the mattress when he arrived in the bedroom, blankets pulled to her chin. He knew how he wanted this story to end. She would demurely accept his kisses and then turn into a ravaging country courtesan when it came time for the sex act. She’d left one candle lit. There was some hope.

She was most willing to learn, and like all things Nora did, she did it with more confidence and proficiency than most. Other issues aside, he thought that boded well for their future activities in the marriage bed.

“Sorry I am late, Nora.