Page 29 of Rules for a Wicked Wager

He looked to the dance partners, all gentlemen he’d somehow badgered to do their parts. They didn’t meet his eyes. They were all bowing as fast as possible before beating a hasty retreat. But he was quicker than one fellow. A man he’d gone to school with who had danced with his aunt for the ghastly sum of three guineas.

“What happened, man?” he asked in as low an undertone as he could manage.

“Exactly what I told you would happen. They danced. I think Aunt Agatha had a lovely time, though my arms will never be the same. Woman has a grip like a strangling snake. But if there’s one thing these ladies like more than the attention, it’s the pleasure of ruining everyone else’s fun.”

“That’s harsh,” Peter said, but it was also true. The ladies looked mighty pleased with themselves even as they condemned the activity.

“Oh, go on with you!” snapped the man’s aunt. “Call my carriage. I feel quite ill.”

A chorus of agreement sounded.

And that was it for the dowagers. They started gathering their things. Soon there wouldn’t be a one left.

“Not so fast,” he said, his voice taking on a commanding air. It worked. They all stopped and looked at him. “I am dreadfully sorry that you disliked the dance, but I am afraid I cannot be swayed by your opinion. I adore the waltz, as I’m sure Miss Powel will too.”

“Harrumph!”

“Cheeky boy!”

“Ridiculous dance!”

“And now,” he continued, doing his best not to let panic enter his expression. “Lady Stott, if you would please take my hand? I shall have the orchestra play a special waltz just for you and me.”

Lady Stott had been busy gathering her shawl, but at his words, she lifted her chin and pursed her mouth. Then while everyone in the ballroom listened, she turned to Miss Powel.

“My dear, you have won your wager. I am going home.” Then she winked at him. Him! “Best make it a good secret, my boy. Otherwise, this whole display will have been for naught.”

“It was meant for me to learn her secrets,” he grumbled.

“Then do not place a wager against a clever woman.” And with that, she thumped her cane down before walking regally away.

One by one, the other dowagers made their exits, each giving him a sniff of disdain. He looked to Miss Powel, his expression bemused. He had no idea how he had suddenly become an object of fun. And not just them, but everyone was watching the exodus while sending him sympathetic looks.

“Huh,” he finally said. “That certainly was not what I expected.”

Miss Powel laughed. It came out at first like a snort, and she rapidly covered her mouth. But a second later, she could not restrain herself. A peal of delight burst from her lips—high and musical—and she was soon joined by others. Quiet titters, a couple of “By Jove’s,” and Miss Powel giggling hard enough that she had to press a hand to her side.

Her amber eyes teared, her perfect mouth drew back to show white teeth, and her whole body seemed to shimmer with merriment. He had to laugh with her. How could he not? She was a delight to look at as she gasped for breath. And besides, he deserved it.

So he laughed, and as he burst into amusement, so too did the rest of the ballroom, until everyone declared this the best ball of the Season. Which meant that when he regained his breath and she hers, he held out his hand to her.

She looked at him, her brows pinching above her nose. “What?”

He pitched his voice loud enough for the musicians to hear. “We missed our waltz, Miss Powel.”

She looked at her card. “Don’t be silly. It’s a cotillion next.”

He turned to the musicians. “A waltz, if you please.”

The conductor nodded and lifted his arms. A moment later, the first notes of a waltz began. And while she was still staring at the musicians, he took her hand, pulling her upward from where she’d been leaning against a chair. A quick tug, and she was finally in his arms.

“You are a complete hand, aren’t you?”

“I am trying to lose gracefully. You have won our wager.”

“Really? And yet somehow I feel as if you have gotten exactly what you wanted.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Then perhaps I am an equally clever gentleman.”