Page 3 of To Wager with Love

“Anyway, Harriet took her own dare tonight.”

“Oh?” Jasper stilled, his heart thundering in his chest. Could this be it? Could this be the chance he’d been waiting for? “What is it?”

Kitty’s eyes twinkled. “To bet something she does not wish to lose.” She grasped his arm, squeezing tight. “She’ll kill me for having told you,” she said, her voice urgent. “For heaven’s sake, make the most of it. Don’t mess it up.”

He looked down at her, seeing his hopes reflected in her eyes. She wanted her friend to be as happy as she was, he could see that, and damn if he didn’t want it too. He wanted to see Harriet look at him the way Kitty looked at Luke. He longed for it.

“I won’t, you have my word,” he said, praying it was true. He smiled at her, hoping she knew how grateful he was. “I’ll give it my all or die trying.”

***

Matilda smiled as Prue waved a greeting.

“There you are!” Prue exclaimed. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Yes, you owe me the next dance, Miss Hunt,” said her dashing husband, the Duke of Bedwin, smiling at Matilda. “I hope you’ve not forgotten.”

“As if I could,” Matilda said, embracing Prue before greeting Prue’s cousin, Miss Minerva Butler, and Bedwin’s sister, Lady Helena.

“It’s lovely to see you, Miss Hunt,” Miss Butler said with a warm smile.

“Yes, it’s been ages,” Lady Helena agreed. “You must come and visit us.”

Before Matilda could answer, there was a shriek of laughter, and they all turned to see Bonnie dragging a grinning Jerome Cadogan onto the dance floor. There were tuts and murmurs of disapproval from the older generation, and Matilda frowned with unease.

“Oh, dear,” Prue murmured.

“I know,” Matilda replied. “I’ve spoken to her, and I know St Clair’s spoken to Jerome, but—”

“But they’re having fun,” Lady Helena said with a wistful sigh.

“The kind of fun that could ruin a young lady’s reputation,” Bedwin said, his expression dark.

“Oh, Robert, darling, couldn’t you speak to him?” Prue asked, clutching at his hand.

Bedwin stared at his wife in horror. “Damned if I will. It’s none of my affair. Besides which, it looks like your Miss Campbell is the instigator. You must speak to her.”

Prue scowled. “Oh, very well, but you should at least speak to St Clair. He’s your friend.”

“Miss Hunt just told you St Clair has already had words. What do you think I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Prue said, sighing. “Only it’s clear the poor girl is besotted with his brother, and I’d hate to see her get hurt.”

“She thinks it’s her last chance to have fun,” Matilda said, her heart aching for Bonnie.

She turned back and discovered Minerva, Prue, and Lady Helena all looking at her.

“Gordon Anderson,” they said in unison.

Matilda pulled a face and nodded. “The poor girl.”

They stood in silence for a moment, considering Bonnie’s fate, and the appalling Scot whom she’d described often and at length. He sounded ever more dreadful every time she spoke of him.

“I need some more punch,” Lady Helena announced, breaking the silence and giving her brother an appealing glance. “Please, Robert.”

She held out her empty glass to the duke, who sighed.

“You’re getting through that at a rate this evening, Helena,” he said, a suspicious glint in his eyes.