Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager. Sarah Mallory

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for the next dance set. She found her encounters with the viscount strangely unsettling. He was undoubtedly handsome and charming, but her impression upon meeting him for the first time was that he was suspicious of her. He had as good as accused her of having designs upon his cousin, but she hoped she had reassured him on that point. He did not like her, she was sure of that. There was no warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. Why, then, was he singling her out?

      ‘Wrong way, Miss Prentess!’

      Her partner’s urgent whisper brought Susannah back to the dance and she tried to concentrate upon her steps, but even as she twirled and passed and skipped she was aware that the viscount was watching her from the side of the room. Perhaps he was looking out for a rich wife. Another pass, another skip and she gave her hands to her partner to swing her around. She also gave the young gentleman her warmest smile. If Lord Markham thought he only had to parade his title before her and she would fall at his feet, then he was very much in error.

      Susannah danced and laughed until her feet and her cheeks ached. Her partners had never known her so vivacious, nor so encouraging. She never once looked for the viscount, but when the ball ended she was disappointed to learn from Mrs Logan that he had left soon after speaking to her.

      ‘He was less interested in knowing about Bath than learning about you,’ Kate told her as they waited for their cloaks.

      ‘Oh?’ Susannah tried not to be intrigued and failed miserably. ‘What did he say?’

      ‘He asked about your parents.’ Kate’s cynical smile dawned. ‘If he is looking for a rich bride he could do worse.’

      ‘No, he could not.’ Susannah shivered. ‘He is wasting his time with me. I do not want a husband, and certainly not one who looks down his aristocratic nose at me.’

      ‘But you must admit he is devilishly handsome,’ murmured Kate.

      Susannah thought of those hard eyes boring into her. Something inside fluttered again when she thought of Viscount Markham, but she would not admit it to be attraction.

      ‘Devilish, yes, I’ll agree to that.’

      ‘Well, for my part I like him,’ declared Mrs Wilby, coming up. She cast an anxious look at her niece. ‘That is, he has never been anything but charming to me.’

      ‘Hah!’ Susannah found two pairs of eyes upon her. Her aunt’s held merely a question at her vehement exclamation, but Kate Logan’s glance was brimful of merriment and a knowing look that brought an angry flush to Susannah’s cheek. She said haughtily, ‘Charm is the viscount’s second nature, but it will not work with me!’

      Thus, when she spied Lord Markham approaching in Milsom Street the following morning she determined to give him no more than a distant nod. She said as much to her companion, Mrs Logan, who gave a tiny shake of her head.

      ‘I fear you will catch cold at that, Susannah. You see he has Mr Barnabus with him, and he will hardly be fobbed off with so slight a greeting.’

      She was right. Gerald hailed them cheerfully and immediately enquired their direction. Kate responded even while Susannah was trying to frame an answer that would send the gentlemen in the opposite direction.

      ‘We are going to the Pump Room to meet up with Mrs Wilby.’

      ‘Then we will accompany you, will we not, Jasper?’

      ‘Oh, but we do not want to take you out of your way.’

      Susannah’s protest was overruled.

      ‘It is no trouble,’ replied Gerald. ‘I dragged my cousin from his bed for an early walk before breakfast, and we may as well go to the Pump Room as anywhere. Come, now, let us be moving!’

      She was not sure how it happened, but moments later Susannah found the viscount beside her. He had said very little, but such was his address that somehow he had inveigled Gerald into escorting Kate and Susannah was left with no option but to accept his arm. She placed her fingers carefully on his sleeve, as if afraid the contact might burn.

      ‘I remember you telling me how busy you are, Miss Prentess.’

      ‘I am.’

      Nerves made her respond more curtly than she intended.

      ‘And is this the nature of your busyness, to be shopping all day?’

      Her sense of the ridiculous put flight to her tension and a laugh escaped her.

      ‘Not all day, my lord.’ She held up her free hand, displaying the tight-fitting covering of fine kid leather. ‘Besides, a lady always needs new gloves.’

      ‘Undoubtedly. How did you enjoy the ball last night?’

      ‘Very much. I suspect the company was a little provincial for you, sir, since you did not dance.’

      ‘You noticed.’

      The laughter in his voice brought a tell-tale flush to her cheeks, but she recovered quickly.

      ‘No, my aunt told me as much. I take no interest in you at all.’

      Too late she realised she should not have added those final words. She waited for him to tease her and could only be grateful that he changed the subject.

      ‘Mrs Logan tells me you spent your early years following the drum.’

      ‘Yes, my father was a captain in an infantry regiment.’

      ‘You lived in Gibraltar, I believe.’

      ‘Yes. That is where I met Mrs Logan.’

      ‘And did she accompany you home to England?’

      ‘No. I returned here when my father died nine years ago. Mama brought us back to live with her sister. Mrs Logan and I met again when I came to Bath last year. I was fortunate to find her here. She has been a good friend to me.’ She added, in response to the question in his eyes, ‘She is a soldier’s widow, I am a soldier’s daughter. We have similar interests.’

      ‘And why did you come to Bath, Miss Prentess?’

      ‘Why not?’ she countered.

      ‘It seems an odd choice for a young lady of means.’

      ‘My Uncle Middlemass left me the house in the Crescent. It is not within my power to sell it.’

      ‘But it is such a choice property, you could let it out and go where you will. Why not London?’

      There was a heartbeat’s hesitation before she replied.

      ‘Bath suits me very well. And my aunt, too. She likes to take the waters. Ah, we are here.’

      Susannah was never more glad to reach her destination. She was finding it far too easy to talk to the viscount, but it did not suit her to share her history with him. She released his arm as they entered the Pump Room and led the way towards Mrs Wilby. Her aunt was part of a lively group standing in the curved recess at one end of the room but as Susannah approached the crowd dispersed, leaving Aunt Maude alone to

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