Page 8 of A Bet with a Baron


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His jaw clamped shut and she turned back around. But not before she caught the grin playing at Boxby’s lips.

She gave a delicate sniff, knowing that she’d revealed a piece or two of herself today.

Tris chuckled behind her. “Don’t mess with the girls’ romantic fancies, Gris. They like this drivel.”

Mirabelle didn’t answer. Anna did it for her. “Drivel? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It is too drivel,” Rush answered, sounding like he was chewing on the words and they tasted awful. “The worst sort.”

Anna tsked. “Well, I for one would prefer a man who likes drivel and not a man like one of you heathens. My goodness. You can’t even be quiet for a half hour ceremony.”

Her chastisement was well placed. A sullen hush fell over the Smith men as they grumbled but quieted.

But Boxby leaned toward her. “You knew they’d not remain quiet.”

Her brows lifted as she looked over at him, his gaze narrowed. “You own a gaming hell. I don’t need to tell you that the bets are always in the house’s favor.”

His jaw dropped as the vicar announced, “You may kiss the bride.”

* * *

The restof the day passed in a whirl of activity. The wedding breakfast flowed into a luncheon and then a late dinner.

If Ken were to guess, he’d gone through his entire wine cellar, which was extensive, though Fulton had assured him that he’d replace the bottles. “I’ve found a vineyard in Italy that’s giving the club a premium product at a fraction of the price. You’re going to be very happy with the product.”

Boxby’s brows lifted. Should he ask how Fulton was getting that wine into the country? Because he doubted very much taxes were being paid. He decided against it as the tinkling of Mirabelle’s laugh caught his ears.

He turned to see Emily and Mirabelle with their heads bent together, their hands clasped, whispering furiously to each other.

What did they discuss?

Him?

Ace?

The wager that Mirabelle had clearly tricked him into? He had to confess that he’d been taken in by her innocence. Her pretend innocence.

Clearly, she’d known exactly what she was doing. But rather than be annoyed, he found himself smiling.

Why did being duped by a beautiful woman actually seem amusing? It was interesting, at the very least.

“What are you grinning about?” Upton groused, his deep voice rumbling.

But Boxby only quirked a brow. “What are you so irritated about?”

Somersworth slid up next to them, chuckling. “Rush just crushed him in a game of chess. Pretended he barely knew how to play, then when Upton bet his whole purse, Rush swooped in and took the entire thing.”

That sounded vaguely familiar.

“They know their business. Our business,” Boxby reasoned, looking back at Mirabelle again. Did they even notice he wasn’t watching his sister but her friend?

Mirabelle stood there, appearing beautifully innocent as she looked the part of a lady and yet…she’d taken him in a bet like a hustler.

How fantastic. His body clenched in awareness and he gave himself a shake, trying to loosen his muscles.

“He’s grinning again,” Upton said, slapping his back. “Finally glad your obligations to your sister are over?”

“Or he’s admiring the older Smith sister?” Somersworth added as he stroked his chin.

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