Prologue
1814, London
Jasper Ashton, theEarl of Marshfield, surveyed the crowded upstairs room at White’s. He didn’t gamble at cards, although he was game to wager upon a good racehorse. So why, when pressed by the man seated opposite him, did he agree to a silly wager about his marital status?
“I tell you I shall not marry,” he said, a little loudly because it was late and he’d had his share of brandy, and perhaps someone else’s share, too. “Despite how I’ve been pursued recently.” Over the past months, the papers had practically posted the banns for him over one or two young ladies who spoke out of turn about his devotion.
He was only devoted to how much he could get away with, which due to his looks and title was usually quite a lot.
“For how long?” a fellow club member cried out, and the rest of the men started to slap the tables, knowing a wager was instantly brewing.
“What are the stakes?” someone else called out.
Jasper sighed, but he was assured of winning. “All right, gentlemen. I vow I shall not marry, even if I’m presented with the Queen of Sheba, herself.”
“Or Cleopatra,” a voice interrupted.
“Or Prinny’s mistress,” said another.
Jasper ignored them. “Eventually, of course, I must carry on my family name. But not this year.”How long could he continue to enjoy his bachelorhood and his status as London’s premiere rake?Or so he prided himself he was.
“I shall be a bachelor until we see the last day of our Lord 1815, or I shall forfeit a goodly sum.”
“How much?” came instantly from more than one, amidst laughter.
“One hundred pounds,” he said.
“So, you doubt yourself, eh, Marshfield?” More laughter erupted.
“Five hundred pounds, then.” He nearly made it a thousand, but there was no need to tempt the devil.
Chapter One
“Lord M__ threw a dinner party in which he seemed to ignore his latest lady-love, Miss T__, in favor of an unknown country miss. Nothing surprising from this rakish earl.”
-The Morning Post
