She shook her head in exasperation. “That, my lord, I must admit.”
“Shall I go on?” In his deep, beautiful voice he said,“’The joints of thy thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a cunning workman. Thy navel is like a round goblet—’”
“Stop it!” Portia swung to face him. “That isnotfrom the Bible, my lord, and I am appalled that you would link such lewdness with the Holy Book.”
Unfortunately, her raised voice attracted Nerissa’s attention, and the other couple turned back to join them.
“Are you fighting, Portia?” asked Nerissa playfully. “I thought you were taking lessons in flirtation.” Her eyes flickered avidly between them, seeking secrets.
Portia kept her gaze fixed on the green-flecked eyes of her tormentor. “I do not care for lies.”
There was a silence and then Nerissa said, “It is not wise, Portia, to accuse a gentleman of lying.”
Portia knew she had gone farther than she should, but she raised her chin. “If I’m wrong, I will apologize.”
Perhaps there was anger in him, but he smiled. “If you are wrong, Miss St. Claire, you will have to do more than apologize. You will have to pay a forfeit, won’t she, Lady Trelyn?”
“That does seem fair, my lord,” said Nerissa, dimpling at him, and enjoying every minute of this.
Portia wished she could tell them both to go to Hades. “That would not be proper, my lord.”
“It is not proper to accuse a gentleman of lying,” he pointed out. “Do you withdraw your accusation?”
Portia felt cornered. She had once again allowed her impulsive nature to throw her into an awkward situation. She had studied her Bible long and well, however, and was confident that there was no such lewdness in the Holy Book.
She called his bluff. “I do not withdraw, my lord. So, what forfeit willyoupay when you admit your wickedness?”
His eyes sparkled and she suddenly remembered their last wager. He had warned her then of the folly of believing she bet on a certainty. On the other hand, though she knew little about sexual intimacy, she knew her Bible very well.
“What forfeit do you require, dear lady?” he asked. “A kiss, perhaps.”
Portia hissed in a breath. “I require freedom from you, my lord. Forever. Never to see you again. Never to hear your voice. Never to have you touch me in any way.”
Nerissa gasped, and Bryght’s eyes widened in recognition. The amusement drained out of his features. “How rash you are,” he murmured. “So be it. You will be hearing from me, Miss St. Claire, about our challenge, and about the settling of debts.” His bow was somewhat abrupt, then he and Lord Andover moved away.
Nerissa stared at Portia. “Whatever are you up to, you foolish creature? To avoid a Malloren is perhaps wise. To challenge one in public…”
“He lied,” said Portia, frowning after Bryght Malloren. Lud, but even angry he had a grace and style that made other men look clumsy.
“I rather doubt it. What did he lie about?”
Portia dragged her wanton mind away from the wretch and concentrated on deflecting Nerissa’s curiosity. She did not even want to recall the words he had quoted, or the memories they stirred of the previous night. They could not possibly be in the Bible. “A foolish matter,” she said briskly. “One thing is sure. Lord Bryght will not now be able to pester me.”
Nerissa just shook her head and led the way back to the carriage.
As soon as Portia was home, she flicked through her well-worn copy of the Bible, paying particular attention to the sections she read less often. After a while she relaxed. The shocking words were not there.
She had won at last, and was safe from Bryght Malloren forever.
That evening the Trelyns dined at home. Though Portia’s best blue silk gown could not possibly compete with Nerissa’s confection of cream brocade and lace, it seemed adequate for the occasion. Nerissa’s maid had dressed Portia’s hair in an elaborately attractive style and set some white roses in it. Portia felt she had no need to blush.
In fact, she was feeling in good spirits. Her encounter with Bryght Malloren had settled matters once and for all. In addition, even if he were wicked enough to break the terms of their wager, she was as safe at Trelyn House as if in the Tower.
After dinner, however, as they drank tea in the drawing room, Nerissa pleaded prettily that they attend the Willoughby soiree.
“My dear,” said Lord Trelyn, “I do not wish you to exhaust yourself.”
“Trelyn, I am likely to exhaust myself with tedium!”
