Page 26 of An Unusual Wager

On legs that were a little weak at the knees, Verity hastened from the room and hurried up the stairs, power, along with determination, returning to her as she went. A tug on the bell pull in her room brought Bessie, the new maid supplied by her husband, hurrying, all girlish smiles, to help her prepare for bed.

Once she was in her nightgown, which was new, and her hair brushed and braided, she sent Bessie away, always the nagging fear that he, Jonathan, might arrive before she had time for what she planned.

The room possessed two doors, neither of which boasted a lock. Furniture would have to do. She’d already assessed how to put her plan into action while Bessie was busy doing her hair, and now, starting with the door to what must be his bedroom, which fortunately opened inwards, she pushed the heavy chest of drawers along the wall until it was up against it. Then, heart pitter-pattering with anxiety as she feared her time might run out, she pushed a large chest against the door into the corridor. Only then could she sit down on the edge of her bed and take a breath.

She didn’t have long to wait.

The opening of the door into his bedroom on the other side of the chest of drawers blocked door alerted her to his presence. Was he undressing? Putting on his nightshirt? Or would he just come barging in, or rather, trying to barge in, fully dressed, or worse, naked?

She clasped her hands in her lap and waited.

He tried the door. The trusty chest of drawers, which had taken an inordinate amount of strength to position, didn’t shift. The latch rattled again. “Verity? I can’t open the door.”

On legs that had become wobbly again, she approached the door.

“Is something blocking it?” He sounded puzzled.

“Yes, something is blocking it,” she managed, struggling to keep her voice steady and determined. “For I am quite certain you will not want to come into the room of a woman you consider to be little better than a common street walker. I myself have barred the door. And it is no use trying the one from the corridor as I have barred that one as well.” She took a deep breath. “We are married, but I have no intention that we should consummate this union, as you so clearly have indicated your scorn for me. Dinner, I know, was just a ruse to lull me into a false sense of security and a somewhat feeble attempt to persuade me to like you. It didn’t work. This will be a marriage in name only and I trust you as a gentleman to abide by my conditions.”

Silence.

She found she was holding her breath.

The latch rattled again. “I have apologized for the way I spoke to you, Verity. Was that not enough?” He sounded calm. Perhaps he still thought he could persuade her.

She bit her lip. “An apology holds no weight when it is not sincere.”

He sighed. “I am your husband. It is your duty to let me in.” Where pleading hadn’t worked, he clearly thought being firm with her would.

“And you have a duty as a gentleman not to force me. Or am I wrong in thinking you a gentleman?” Not quite true. “I ask you to respect my wishes and not force yourself upon me. Unless, that is, you are no gentleman and the forcing of a woman is something you consider acceptable. If you try that, you will find me unresponsive.”

Silence again.

A long silence. He must be thinking.

“Very well.” His voice had lost the purr and instead was tight and curt. “If that is how you feel, then I see little future for us in being together. I will send you down to Luxborough in the morning, for there is no reason for you to stay on in Town if you are not to be my wife in more than name.”

Luxborough. His country estate. Yes, she could do that. Although at some point he would be bound to turn up there. And then…?

Sensing victory, however ephemeral it might be, she stood up straighter. “Thank you, my lord. I shall sleep peacefully knowing you do not intend any violence towards me.” And she turned away from the door to head for her bed, not without a perplexing sadness in her heart that she couldn’t quite understand.