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

“Ah, the whole Wicked gang.”

“Maybe tonight is the night to ask some hard questions about their family’s involvement in the Blasingtons’ decline.”

“Are you sure? Carlow won’t enjoy a public examination at his dinner table.”

“I want the truth. And Carlow distracted me the last time we were all at a table together.”

“If they or their fathers have committed some fraud, they aren’t going to admit it at this point.”

“You didn’t always think that way. Once, we were of one mind,” Nora said.

“Until you got married.”

“They know what happened. Now, sit with me and we will play cards until the dinner bell rings. I feel as if I’m losing my touch and you never know when a wagering opportunity will come along.”

Later at the table, Nora sat in her usual chair at the far end, opposite Carlow. His mother was usually to his left, but tonight she was at a dinner party with Lady Osbaldstone. Fromme and Andover sat on either side of him, while Timothy was to her right.

It wasn’t a long table, but the distance was awkward, almost as if they were lining up pieces on a chessboard. But Carlow’s cooks were superb and the table setting magnificent, even if it was for a party of five. They had already served the asparagus soup and the roast veal béchamel, along with some small sides of sea kale, stewed turnips and mutton cutlets.

Everyone remained quiet as they sipped and cut. Nora was stewing as the second course was placed: turkey poult with brown sauce, stewed duck with morels, dressed peas and potatoes croquets.

“Carlow, my brother was just telling me about his trip to Reading,” Nora said, slicing into the duck.

“What is in Reading, may I ask?” Fromme piped in. “All of the young women are in London during the Season.” He was pushing his peas around his plate with a knife. Nora was certain the question was purely indifferent, as he didn’t even look up at either Timothy or her. She couldn’t forget about the horses that ended up with his family. Deep down—deep, deep down—she couldn’t forgive or forget how they were complicit in the whole sordid mess. Father would not have just given his property away.

“There is one young lady who is not,” Timothy said. “I was at a house party sponsored by Lady Russell.”

“Exeter’s daughter,” Nora added.

Carlow, at the end of the table, set his knife aside and watched her closely, a question in his gaze and his head tilted slightly.

“The Duke of Exeter?” Fromme asked, this time looking up and a little more impressed.

“I hear the hunting is excellent in Reading,” Andover said.

“I wasn’t there for the hunting,” Timothy said.

“Timothy says Exeter was a charming host. Isn’t that right, Timothy?” Timothy had gone white and began to fiddle with his fork. “It seems Exeter is very interested in reacquiring one of his properties and thought my brother could help him. Which all seems so strange to me, since Carlow is the one who owns that property. You weren’t planning on selling Henbury Hall, were you, Carlow? Exeter had the idea you were. But I don’t know how that is possible. Oh my, Carlow, you really have the best cooks. I don’t think I’ve had better stewed duck.”

There was silence for a minute, only silver utensils cracking against the china plates.

“Are you?” Andover said. “You said you were going to sell, but you didn’t mention Exeter.”

“I changed my mind,” Carlow said. “Money isn’t everything.” Nora watched her husband closely, looking for signs of deception. But his piercing gaze saw right through her. “I made a promise,” he said. “And I keep my promises.”

“Exeter approached me about the tin mines after my father died,” Andover added.

“Oh?” Carlow said. All eyes turned to Andover. “Did he say why?” Carlow asked.

“No. He was offering a good price for the mines that caused our family more work than profit, so it was an easy decision.”

“You sold to him?” Nora asked.

“When?” Carlow asked.

“About six months ago.”

“So the mines are gone forever,” Nora said, more to herself.

“I wouldn’t worry, Lady Carlow. The whole idea behind having assets is to turn a profit or, at the very least, support land management and labor structure. Believe me, the mines in England are not robust enough to support a long-term venture. Mark my words.” Andover thought that put a point to the story.

At the abrupt finality of his words, Nora felt her spine weaken. “But they weren’t yours to sell. They belonged to my father.” Her words sounded feckless to her own ears.

“Nora, not tonight,” Carlow said. The warning in his voice wasn’t enough to stop her uncontrolled determination.

“Does it not matter to one of you that part of your heritage was acquired by destroying mine?”

No one spoke. Nora’s ears burned. She glanced at Carlow, his face blank.

Fromme leaned back. “I suppose this isn’t the time to mention that Exeter has also contacted me about purchasing some of the Henbury stallions. Exeter bothered my father about it too, but he’d always refused.”

Words burst from her, knowing she should have stopped. “Isn’t it strange that you all thought it best to sell my father’s property back to the original owner? What did he promise you? What did he promise your fathers?”

“It is no one’s business what Fromme and Andover do with their property,” Carlow said.

“Then you might as well sell Henbury Hall too, since it is none of my business.”

A servant came in carrying the desserts. Carlow said no, but Nora accepted her plate and anxiously downed the smallest of crumbs. Carlow watched her every movement, waiting to make eye contact. Waiting to tell her he was furious with her. Nora could feel his needled gaze pierce every inch of her body.

When they were