Page 43 of Watching the Earl

He stared after his housekeeper as she scurried back inside. His wife was taken with him? He’d hoped that she might develop feelings for him, and that eventually he might feel something for her. But so soon? Until now, every thought had been focused on navigating the time until they married. It appeared he had other thoughts he’d need to attend to now. One of which was whether he should go to her dressing room, as he’d originally intended, or stay put.

With the speed at which his wife moved about the house, he determined the best chance of seeing her was to remain where he was. The footman pulled out his chair, and he sat a moment before his usual coffee was set down before him. No sooner had he taken a sip than Georgina swept out onto the terrace in a bright purple dress, matching the pansies on the table almost perfectly. He was just congratulating himself for staying where he was when she came directly to him, a wide smile on her face, and kissed him on the cheek.

She then took her seat next to him. “Good morning, husband.”

Still a bit shocked by her action, he found himself forgetting what to say.

“I hope you don’t mind having our meal outside. It’s such a beautiful morning, the temperature quite moderate and the clouds so few. I thought the fresh air was a wonderful way to start our lives together.” She smiled at him as she lifted her cup and took a sip. She actually closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them as she put the cup down. “There’s nothing quite like hot cocoa sprinkled with cinnamon…well, except for maybe your kisses.”

He stared at her as her cheeks turn a pretty shade of red. “You slept well, then?”

“Oh, very well. I believe it was the best sleep of my life, probably because I’m so happy. To be away from my family, in my own home, free to do as I please, and with a very handsome husband who truly wants me, I couldn’t be happier. I feel I need to return the favor somehow.”

What he’d done was nothing extraordinary—then again, if he hadn’t needed the money, he was well aware he wouldn’t have married her, and that didn’t sit well with him. “You must remember that your dowry allowed me to keep my family estate and the family reputation, so I have you to be grateful to.”

She stilled in lifting a scone from the tray the footman held. “Was it truly so much?”

He nodded and waited for the servant to head back into the house. “Yes, it was.”

“I understand that you placed a significant bet. What did you bet on?” She took a bite of scone and chewed, a crumb caught on her lips in the corner.

The urge to lick it from her lips caught him by surprise. He forced himself to ignore it. He could lick her all he wanted tonight.

“Husband?”

He blinked and looked at her. “Yes?”

“What did you bet your fortune on?”

“I thought I had made a sure bet. You see, I have a good friend who had a plan that would mean he couldn’t marry until he was thirty, but then he fell in love and married a year too early.”

Georgina’s eyes widened. “Lord Tamworth and Sophie?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m disappointed for you, but I admit to being very happy for Sophie. She loves Lord Tamworth more than she loves books. I quite think she sees him as her hero.”

He didn’t read the novels that were becoming the rage among young women. As far he was concerned, heroes were men who went into battle to save the country. “Unfortunately for me, their marriage lost me everything except this house. It was your dowry that allowed me to pay the debt and keep all that I had. In fact, the man I lost to came to call this morning.”

Her brows rose as she accepted two honey cakes from the footman. “That is rather rude, or did he come to collect his money? I would think his solicitor would talk to yours and all would be done.”

Pleased he didn’t have to explain that part to her, he finished chewing a bite of his poached eggs then took a sip of coffee. “You’re quite right. I was baffled as to why he arrived, and so early. First of all, he has no regard for societal rules.”

She nodded emphatically.

“Secondly, he had hoped to interest me in another bet.”

Georgina put down her fork, her brows lowered in concern. “How did you answer him?”

“I told him I wasn’t interested. And that I had just married and that other things were more important.”

Though her brows relaxed, she continued to stare at him.

He waited, but when she didn’t say anything, he found himself wanting to know what she thought. “Do you have a question I might answer for you?”

“Yes. I’m trying to understand the allure of gambling and if it has anything to do with what is bet upon. For my part, I have indulged in card games where we put down bets, but I never lost so much as my pin money for the week. I know they bet more on the races at Ascot. I have also heard whispers of something called gaming hells. But I don’t understand how gambling brings people such excitement. When I bet on card games, I find it’s quite the opposite. I become nervous, and it ruins the game for me. I’m baffled by the craving to gamble that brings a gentleman such as yourself to risk everything. Is that what the men bet on at White’s, when someone will marry?”

There was no judgment in her voice, just honest curiosity, so he took no umbrage at her questions. “At White’s, anything can be a bet, from”—he paused, as he was about to say when a lord lets his mistress go—“from what bill will pass in Parliament to the amount of rain to fall by the end of a fortnight.”