Page 63 of To Wager with Love

Matilda stilled, aware of the sudden ripple of interest that thrummed though the entire ballroom. Between the dancers, between the flashes of colour as they flew past her, she gazed at the entrance, and the tall, flawless figure who stood there, staring at her across the vast space. She told herself she could not see the strange, wintry silver of his eyes, not from here, not over the length of a ballroom. Now the ice she’d sought to cool her skin shivered over her, followed by heat. Such an enigma he was, so cold, and yet he made her burn with nothing more than a look.

Matilda held his gaze for a long moment, her heart skittering in her chest like something trapped, and then she turned her back on him, and walked away.

***

Jerome helped himself to another drink. Though he shouldn’t have another, he needed something to steady his nerves. He was in the very devil of a fix and he couldn’t see how to get out of it. How Bonnie had talked him into such a madcap scheme he couldn’t fathom. The trouble was, when he was with her, everything was a lark. She was funny and vivacious, and she made him laugh like no one else ever had. She was daring, too, and surprisingly clever. The truth was he’d never had so much fun in his life, but he knew things were getting out of hand. He also knew his brother had noticed, and he was edging inexorably closer to getting his head removed from his shoulders.

He’d already received a stern warning but, if Jasper got wind of this escapade, he’d be treated to a long walk off a short pier. Yet he’d found Bonnie impossible to refuse. These were her last days, she’d told him, her last chance to live and have some fun before Morven sent her husband-to-be to fetch her and bear her off to the wilds of Scotland.

Something uncomfortable tugged at Jerome’s conscience and he quieted it. He wasn’t the one condemning her to an unhappy marriage to a man she couldn’t stand. It wasn’t as if he’d given her the slightest reason to have hopes of him, either. He’d made it clear that they could never be more than friends, and Bonnie had laughed and told him he was an idiot. She no more expected an offer from Jerome than to sprout wings and fly. Yet he wasn’t blind to the look in her eyes, and he’d been an utter bastard to take liberties with her, knowing that she had feelings for him. Not that it had been his idea. He’d tried to act the gentleman, but Bonnie hadn’t wanted that. She knew her own mind and she wanted to fill these last days with memories that would warm her and make her smile once she was married and they had clipped her wings for good.

Anyone successfully clipping Bonnie’s wings and subduing her restless spirit seemed unlikely at best, and Jerome could only wonder if Gordon Anderson had the slightest idea what he was doing. Taking an unwilling Bonnie to wife seemed like a recipe for disaster on an apocalyptic scale, but it was none of his affair. He was her friend, and he’d agreed to help her live as she wished until her time ran out, heaven help him. It was in his nature to help a damsel in distress, though he’d never met one with quite such odd notions of rescuing before. Jerome had not understood what he’d been agreeing to when she’d extracted that promise from him, and only now did he realise what an idiot he’d been. His promise bound him, however, so he could do nothing but his best to avoid a scandal. He groaned inwardly. Avoiding scandal was not something at which he excelled.

“There you are, old man. Been looking everywhere for you!”

Jerome jolted, torn from his thoughts by a hearty slap on the back. Irritated by the unfamiliar voice, he turned with a glower to face the young man who stood grinning at him.

“Who the devil are you?” he began, before the words died in his throat as he took in the unusual pale green eyes that were only too familiar.

“B-Bonnie?” he stammered, whilst his heart leapt to his throat.

“You didn’t recognise me, did you?” she crowed, her face alight with triumph. “I told you I could do it.”

Jerome swallowed and then looked her up and down. “Hell and the devil, you’ll be the death of me, Bonnie Campbell. Oh, Lord, your hair! Bonnie, what have you done to your hair?”

She shrugged, apparently unconcerned, though there was a glint of something in those pale green depths that told him she was not quite as sanguine about it as she appeared.

“It’s fashionable to wear it short,” she said, defiance in her tone. “And I can hardly pass as a man with long hair, can I?”

Jerome took her by the arm and hauled her into a quiet corner. “This is madness,” he said, resisting the urge to shake her. “We’ll get caught and you’ll be ruined, and my brother will have me locked up, if you don’t get me consigned to Bedlam first.”

Bonnie shook off his arm and glared at him. “It doesn’t matter if I’m ruined, don’t you see? It won’t change anything. I’ll still have to marry my cousin, no matter what I’ve done, so they may as well hang me for a sheep as a lamb. And don’t you try to wriggle out of it. You gave me your word.”

Jerome cursed and rubbed a hand over his face. She was right, damn it, and he was honour bound to do as he’d promised. “Fine,” he said, angry with himself, with her, and with this whole ridiculous situation. “Fine, I’ll take you, but don’t come running to me when this goes to hell.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, and it won’t,” Bonnie said soothingly. “You didn’t recognise me, after all, and you knew what I was doing.”

“For about five seconds,” he retorted and then let out a breath, shaking his head. “I am so going to regret this.”

“Ah, don’t be like that,” she coaxed, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. “We’ll have fun, I promise.”

Jerome stared back at her, at her obvious excitement, at the curve of her lush lips and the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, I don’t doubt it, you little devil. I just wonder how long I’ll be paying for it afterwards, that’s all.”

“It will be worth it,” she said, her eyes fixed on his, something in her voice that made anticipation shiver down his spine. “I promise.”

He nodded, believing her, because he always believed her. “I know,” he said, before giving a short bark of laughter. “Well, then, if we’re going to the devil, we may as well do it in style. What am I to call you, sir?”

Bonnie grinned at him, and in the fierce joy of that irrepressible smile all the terrible consequences fell away and there was nothing but this moment, this ridiculous adventure.

“Bartholomew Camden. A distant cousin on your mother’s side, Jerry, old man.”

Jerome snorted, disarmed by her enthusiasm, and a bubble of laughter rose inside of him. “Well, Coz, I’m very pleased to know you. Why don’t we leave this place and find a bit of life?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Bonnie said, giving him a very tidy little bow. “Lead on, Macduff.”

“It’s actually ‘lay on,’” Jerome began, correcting her, but Bonnie just huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Do shut up and come along,” she scolded and dragged him out of the ballroom by his arm.