"Lordloveher" preceded the firm slamming of the door. Diana sank back into her sleepless misery.
* * *
Three gentlemen sat at a table in the taproom, or rather slouched in their chairs, not talking to one another or looking at one another or otherwise communicating. One played a hand of solitaire, though his indolent pose made it appear that his mind was not wholly intent on his game. Another turned and turned his glass of ale on the table and occasionally lifted it to examine the rim of wetness at its base. The third sat with arms folded, watching the barmaid across the room.
The barmaid was washing off a table. She had washed off all the tables except the one at which the three gentlemen sat, some of them more than once, though no one had occupied any of them all evening. If it could possibly be arranged, she faced the gentlemen as she scrubbed, bent forward so that her bosom, which was almost out of her bodice anyway, appeared to have no bodice to give it respectability at all.
The third gentleman tried winking at her. She tossed her head and rubbed harder at an invisible spot on the table.
"Well, I don't know what you have that I don't, Jack," he said at last, his voice petulant.
Lester Houndsleigh made patterns on the table with the wet base of his glass and yawned. "Haven't you taken a look at Jack lately, Ernie?" he asked. "And haven't you looked in a mirror?"
"It isn't just looks, though," Lord Crensford said. "It's something else. Jack always could have any woman he wanted."
The Marquess of Kenwood kept on playing solitaire.
"And some he didn't want," Lester agreed. "Look, hedon'teven fancy the barmaid, though she is the juiciest piece of female flesh I've clapped my eyes on in a month. But shedon'thave eyes for you or me, Ernie, my lad. We might as well go to bed—without the barmaid."
The marquess's eyes remained on his cards. "Winking can be a handy weapon in flirtation," he said. "But only if one knows that a female is already attracted. Otherwise it is a rather pathetic gesture. And pinching bottoms is the least likely way to win the heart belonging to that bottom. It is the tactic of a boy."
Lester had pinched the barmaid's bottom the last time she had come to their table to refill their glasses. He sounded aggrieved when he spoke again. "And yet all you have to do, Jack" he said, "is sit there with your boots stretched out below the table and your eyes on your cards, and the wench is almost offering herself to you on a platter."
The marquess shrugged. "Sorry," he said.
He glanced once beneath his eyebrows at Lord Crensford. Ernie was sulking, of course, he noticed.Had been since before they leftLondon.He couldn't say he altogether blamed him, though the whole business was stupid in the extreme. He set his cardsdown,the game not finished, and summoned the barmaid with one lift of an eyebrow to refill his glass. He set a careless arm about her waist as she did so.
He would probably have her for the night. She was certainly shapely enough and pretty enough and willing enough to help him pass what promised to be a dull night. It had certainly been a dull evening. No other guests at the innexceptthem and the lady of the lovely legs, who disappointingly had not put in an appearance belowstairs and was now unlikely to do so.
"What a day!" Lester said.
"What an inn!" Lord Crensford said.
They were like a Greek chorus. They had been saying as much, sometimes switching lines, all evening.
"So," Lester said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning hugely again, "are you going to win this wager, do you think, Jack?"
It was not a wise topic of conversation at the end of a day that had tried all their nerves and frayed all their tempers. Lord Crensford scowled. The Marquess of Kenwood shrugged.
"Of course," he said."Provided the lady puts in an appearance, that is."
"Oh, she'll be there." Lord Crensford's voice was instantly testy. "She'll come for Papa's birthday, like a lamb to the slaughter. But you'll win the wager over my dead body, Jack."
The marquess shrugged again. "If necessary," he said.
"But you really are being an ass over this, Ernie. Anyone would think I had contracted to do the woman some terrible harm. I am going to woo her and bed her. There are many women who would give half a fortune for just that."
"Damn you, Jack," Lester said without any particular rancor. "Anyone who did not know you wouldthink you excessively conceited. But of course it's true. I wish I knew what your secret is.Apart from the devilish good looks, of course."
Lord Crensford ignored the last speech. "But it is Diana you are talking about," he said. "Teddy's widow.My sister-in-law.I'm fond of her. And I don't like the thought of her becoming just another one of your casual bedfellows, Jack. I won't have it."
They had been over the same ground several times in London after they had both recovered from their prize hangovers. But they remained deadlocked. Indeed, there seemed to be no way to sort out their differences to the satisfaction of the honor of both.
The Marquess of Kenwood had been appalled when he finally woke up and remembered all the details of that insane wager at White's. It was true that he had a way with women and that he used that way whenever he possibly could since he found that making love was one of the most pleasurable activities that life had to offer. But he had never really thought of himself as a libertine or a rake—just a normally healthy male with normal, healthy appetites, who happened, perhaps, to be more fortunate than most.
But however it had come about, that decidedly silly wager had been made. And what gentleman in his right mind could think of forfeiting a duly recorded wager without even trying to win? It was just too much to ask.
Besides, there was something rather intriguing and challenging about it. Mrs. Diana Ingram was said to be beautiful.And unapproachable.A delightful combination.She was also a widow of a year's duration. It was very likely that she was panting for a man's attentions.
