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“Interesting,” he said before filling his glass again. “The last I’d heard, Miss Wainscott was all but engaged to Lord Claybrook.”
Nicholas sipped his drink as he thought. Perhaps Sophie was wrong about this match. “But is it a love match or a financial match?”
Somerton shrugged. “I would not be privy to that information.”
“I see. But I assume they would both attend Northwoods’ ball at the end of the week.”
“Why don’t you ask the man?” Somerton inclined his head toward Lord Claybrook’s seat in the corner.
“I believe I shall.” Nicholas sauntered over to Lord Claybrook and smiled down at the young viscount.
“Claybrook, how are you?”
Claybrook’s eyes widened. “Very well, Ancroft.”
Nicholas took the seat next to him and made some staid conversation about the weather and politics. Finally, he directed the conversation toward the Season. “I have heard Northwoods’ ball is set to be quite the thing. A perfect time to catch a bride.”
Claybrook smiled. “So the rumors are true, then.”
Rumors? “To which rumors do you refer? There are so many gossips’ tongues wagging.”
“That your father will disinherit you if you don’t choose a wife this Season. The betting book has already taken a full page of wagers on who will be your bride.”
How the bloody hell did that rumor get around so quickly? His father had only informed him of the decision a few days ago. Nicholas supposed there was no denying the truth, not that he had any plans of marrying yet.
“Ah, that rumor,” Nicholas said casually. “My father has impressed upon me his desire to see me wed this year. So which beautiful lady is supposed to become my bride?”
“The odds, so far, are in Miss Justine Littlebury’s favor.”
Nicholas glanced over to the book, where Somerton appeared to be placing a wager. On Nicholas’s marriage? He would peruse the book before leaving.
“Miss Littlebury seems an odd choice to me,” Nicholas finally commented. “I have met the girl but once.”
“Apparently, once is enough to make a marriage.” Claybrook laughed. “Besides, you did dance with her twice at the Hartfields’ ball.”
True enough, but no one needed to learn that he’d done so out of pity for the young lady. The poor girl was standing on the side of the dance floor almost completely ignored by the other men in the room.
“And what about you?” Nicholas pried. “Rumors are that you shall be betrothed before the week is over.”
“Speculation, that is all,” Claybrook replied, pushing back his chair. “I must be off. Will I see you at the Northwoods?”
“Absolutely.”
Nicholas waited until Claybrook left before strolling to the betting book. He turned the old book around and glanced down at the entries. Claybrook was correct that Miss Littlebury seemed to be the odds on favorite. Curious what Somerton placed a wager on, Nicholas scanned the list until he found the entry.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered.
Somerton had wagered one thousand pounds that Nicholas would marry Miss Sophie Reynard before the Season ended.
He was going to kill Somerton.
Chapter 9
“How could you have done this to me?” Sophie shouted at her half brother. “Did you think I wouldn’t discover who placed that wager?”
Somerton’s smile only increased Sophie’s anger. She paced the room in frustration. How could her own brother have done such a thing to her?
