“Probably, you’ve got a point there,” Douglas admitted before shrugging. “It’s a mystery then,” he concluded.
Nate allowed his gaze to return to where Beatrice had just re-joined his aunts. He could always approach the old ladies and find out for himself. But whatever the cause of Bea’s coldness, he had no interest in causing her any further distress. He certainly wasn’t going to draw her into an argument at a large Society affair. It could wait for the privacy of her own withdrawing room. Or rather his aunts’ withdrawing room, he supposed.
He did his best to put the matter from his mind for the time being. It wouldn’t do to draw any further attention to the matter. It had only been his uncharacteristic shock at seeing Lady Beatrice that had allowed him to drop his guard and let Robertson and Douglas see his consternation. He didn’t want them to refine any further upon it.
“What do you know about our host this evening, gentlemen?” he asked, turning their attention.
“Rich as Croesus,” Robertson declared in characteristic few words.
Douglas nodded. “Mines on his estate, some of which have recently hit large veins. He’s also been speculating in the colonies. Leaves most of his London activities to his wife, if you can imagine. He even lets her tell him how he ought to politicunless it has to do with his colonial interests. Isn’t that the strangest thing?”
Nate nodded as the man expected, but he actually thought it sounded quite wonderful, as though the couple were truly partners. He supposed, from a Society perspective, it was dreadful and unusual, but Nate understood that a woman’s brain was just as capable as a man’s, and her viewpoint could often be relied upon to offer useful direction. He wouldn’t allow his gaze to stray back toward Beatrice, but that had been his experience with her. He’d also seen how female agents for the Crown could accomplish so much with their flexible minds.
He wanted a partner like Douglas had just described for himself. Involuntarily his gaze shifted back toward Bea. She would never have him, he was sure, not after the way he’d left her so abruptly before, but he was also certain she would be capable of being that sort of partner.
“Care to make a wager?” Douglas asked while Nate was still distracted by his thoughts and not fully paying attention.
“Always,” Robertson declared.
“Not you, Robertson, I meant Braxton.”
This brought Nate’s full attention back to the two men still clinging to his side.
“What sort of wager?” he asked a little warily. When he saw their scepticism over his reaction, though, Nate realized he was acting like an agent, not an earl. He stifled his sigh and forced a light laugh. “Of course, I’m always up for some fun,” he said, even though it was far from the truth.
“I bet you can’t get that girl to fall for you by the end of the Season.”
Nate blinked and just barely prevented his jaw from falling open. His immediate impulse was to firmly put the man in his place, but he curbed it for the moment.
“I’ll take that wager,” Robertson immediately declared with a leer. Nathan couldn’t allow the laggard anywhere near Beatrice.
“He wasn’t talking to you, you lout,” Nate said firmly. Being the lackwit that he was, Robertson never took offense to anything Nate said, so he laughed with good nature and countered.
“Then you take it or I will,” Robertson said firmly in the most complete sentence Nate had ever heard him speak. It briefly crossed Nate’s mind to wonder if this was somehow a setup. Why would these two laggards take an interest in Beatrice?
“Not her, someone else,” Nathan tried to deflect.
“It’s not a challenge if it’s not a challenge,” Douglas insisted. “She seems to be the toughest nut this Season, from what I can tell tonight. You think you’re going to step right into Society and take thetonby storm. You need to prove you have what it takes.”
Nathan stood straighter and looked down his nose at the other fellow. “I hardly have to prove anything,” he said with pride in his voice. “I am Braxton.”
Douglas shrugged. “Robertson might need another conquest under his belt,” he pointed out with a leer of his own, making Robertson chuckle suggestively.
Nate’s teeth clenched. How had he gotten himself into such a clunch-headed situation? He hoped he appeared nonchalant as he asked, “What sort of odds are you offering?”
“I bet you my matched greys you can’t get her to fall at your feet by the end of the Season.”
“What do you mean by fall at my feet? You know I can’t marry a nobody, I’m Braxton.” He hated the words that were coming out of his mouth, but how else was he supposed to handle the situation?
“Of course you can’t wed her. Isn’t she your aunts’ companion? But you can make her sweet on you without having to marry the chit.”
Nate quelled the urge to punch the other man in the face. “What are you expecting from me if I were to fail?”
Douglas’s eyebrows rose. “So you know you can’t do it, then, eh, old chap?”
“Just need to know what the odds are,” he stated calmly.
“Your matched bays.”
