Nicola Cornick - Lady Allerton's Wager

Beth felt Marcus’s arm move beneath her fingers. She caught her breath.

‘You did not tell me that you were Sir Francis’s widow, Lady Allerton,’ Marcus said gently, smiling down at her. She could see the triumph in his eyes. ‘He was a fine man and a great scholar. His treatise on hydrostatics formed part of my university studies. I remember his work well.’

‘Thank you,’ Beth murmured, looking away. ‘Sir Francis was indeed a fine academician.’

They had reached their box now and discovered that the second act of the play was about to start. Kit was already in his seat and looked up, startled, to see both his cousin and Lady Fanshawe escorted by the Earl of Trevithick. The two men exchanged a stiff bow, and then Marcus took Beth’s hand in his.

‘I should deem it an honour to call on you, Lady Allerton,’ he murmured, his gaze resting on her face in a look that brought the colour into her cheeks. ‘I understand that you are staying in Upper Grosvenor Street?’

Beth hesitated. ‘We are, but—’

‘Then I shall look forward to seeing you shortly.’ He bowed again. ‘Good evening, ma’am.’

Beth bit her lip as she watched his tall figure make its way back to the party in the Trevithick box. It seemed that the Earl was difficult to refuse. And now that Lady Fanshawe had told him everything he needed to know, his position was well nigh unassailable. With a sigh, Beth tried to direct her attention back to the play. She wondered what his next move would be.

‘I am not at all sure about these newfangled artists,’ Lady Fanshawe sighed, pausing in front of a landscape painting by John Constable. ‘Only look at those odd flecks of light and the strange rough technique. There is something not quite finished…indeed, not quite gentlemanly about it!’

Beth laughed. She rather liked Constable’s atmospheric landscapes and they gave her a longing for the countryside and the fresh sea air. It was pleasant to be able to escape the bustle of the London Season for a little and step through an imaginary window into another landscape, even if they were in fact in the Royal Academy and Lady Fanshawe was starting to complain that her feet were aching.

‘Why do you not take the seat over there, ma’am, if you are fatigued?’ she suggested, gesturing to a comfortable banquette placed over by the window. ‘I shall not keep you long, but I should just like to see Mr Turner’s collection in the blue room. If you would grant me five minutes…’

Lady Fanshawe nodded, sighing with relief as she took the weight off her feet. ‘Take as long as you wish, my love,’ she said, sitting back and closing her eyes. ‘I suggest we call in Bond Street on our way home. Far more to my taste, but one must be seen here, you know!’

Smiling, Beth wandered through to the second gallery. There was quite a fashionable crowd present, bearing out the truth of Lady Fanshawe’s statement on the social importance of attending the exhibition. Beth paused before a picture of seascape and gave a small, unconscious sigh. The water was a stormy grey and the clouds were building on the horizon, and far out to sea there was an island…

‘Daydreaming, my lady?’ The voice, deep and slightly mocking, caught Beth by surprise. She turned her head sharply to meet the quizzical gaze of the Earl of Trevithick. She could feel a vexatious blush rising to her cheeks and looked away swiftly. It was irritating enough that she had spent the last three days waiting for him to call on her, with a secret anticipation that she had not acknowledged even to herself. She had just begun to relax and think that he had forgotten her, when here he was.

‘How do you do, my lord.’ Beth smiled politely. She tried not to notice how superbly elegant Marcus looked in a coat of green superfine and the fawn pantaloons that clung to his muscular thighs. ‘I hope that you are enjoying the exhibition?’

Marcus took her hand. ‘To tell the truth, I came here with the sole intention of seeing you, Lady Allerton. I called in Upper Grosvenor Street and was told that you would be here, and I hoped to persuade you to drive with me. It is a very pleasant autumn day and my curricle is outside.’

Beth hesitated. ‘Thank you, my lord, but I am here with Lady Fanshawe—’

‘I am sure she could be persuaded to entrust you to me.’ Marcus smiled down at her. ‘That is, if you wish to come with me, Lady Allerton. You might not want to break a centuries-old feud, after all!’

Beth could not help laughing. ‘How absurd you are, my lord! I believe I might take the risk, but…’

‘I know!’ Marcus looked apologetic. ‘You are quite out of charity with me because of my ungallant refusal to grant you Fairhaven! But now, Lady Allerton…’ he bent closer to her ‘…now you have the opportunity to persuade me! Will you take the challenge?’

Beth looked at him. There was a definite gleam of provocation in his eye. She frowned.

‘It seems to me, my lord, that you have the best of both worlds! You have nothing to lose whereas I may wear myself to a shred trying to convince you of my attachment to Fairhaven and still have no influence over you!’

A wicked smile curved Marcus’s lips. ‘Believe me, Lady Allerton, you have made quite an impression on me already! I would put nothing outside your powers!’

Beth blushed and looked away. ‘Pray do not tease so, my lord.’

‘Must I not?’ Marcus offered her his arm and they started to walk back through the gallery. ‘It is difficult to resist. So, will you take my challenge?’

Beth paused. ‘I will drive with you. That would be most pleasant.’

‘Very proper. You are not always so proper, are you, Lady Allerton?’

‘However, I could withdraw my acceptance. Any more of your mockery, my lord—’ Beth looked at him severely ‘—and I shall do so!’

Marcus inclined his head. ‘Very well! We shall instigate a truce! You are a most determined person, Lady Allerton. It is quite unusual.’

‘Unusual, perhaps. Most certainly imprudent.’ Beth spoke wryly. She was thinking of Charlotte and her strictures on her conduct. ‘I think it comes from being an only child, my lord. I was much indulged and given my own way. It bred stubbornness in me, I fear. And then, my late husband…’

‘Yes?’ Marcus slanted a look down at her. Beth sensed that his interest had sharpened and she managed to stop her runaway disclosures just in time.

‘Well, he was very kind and indulgent too…generous to me…I was most fortunate.’

‘You must have been a child bride,’ Marcus observed lightly, after a moment. ‘After all, you are scarce in your dotage now! How long have you been widowed, Lady Allerton?’

Beth turned her head so that the brim of her bonnet shielded her from his too-perceptive gaze. Something about this man made her feel vulnerable, as though he could read into her words all the things she did not say.

‘Sir Francis died two years ago. Yes, I was very young when I married. My parents had been killed in an accident and I…’ Her voice trailed away. She did not want to reveal how lonely she had felt, uncertain if she was making the right decision in marrying hastily. On the one side had been security and on the other…On the other, she had felt as though she was throwing away all her youth and future by marrying a man older than her father. Yet Frank had been a kind husband, as kind to her as to a favourite niece. All she had lacked was excitement.

‘I see,’ Marcus said, and Beth had the unnerving suspicion that he did indeed see a great deal.

‘My dears!’ Lady Fanshawe had watched them approach and now rose to her feet, wincing slightly. She greeted the Earl as though he was a family friend of long standing, which Beth found slightly unnerving. She watched with resignation as it took Marcus all of a minute to persuade Lady Fanshawe to his plan.