Page 46 of Watching the Earl

Georgina rushed down the stairs, anxious to see if all her hard work during the day would bring her the prize she so desired. It was silly, of course. She could simply ask Philip to take her to a ball and dance with her twice. He might be surprised at the request, but he was such a gentleman, he probably wouldn’t refuse.

Now, she could see why winning a bet was so intoxicating. Of course, she hadn’t won yet, but she’d done everything she could to prepare. She’d met with both Mrs. Newman and Mr. Haines. Mrs. Newman was very forthcoming, but Mr. Haines was a bit stiff. He was a very distinguished-looking man in his mid-fifties. However, once she explained the reason she needed the names, he was ready to help her win, giving her rhymes to help her remember.

She’d even gone to the stables to meet the stable master and learn about all the people who worked the stables. She’d searched out Mr. Beeson and learned about the gardeners and the gamekeepers. That had taken a while, because he liked to talk. She’d even met with Philip’s valet, Mr. Gibson, to make sure she had the names of everyone who served her husband. That man was a wealth of information, most of it of little use, but interesting nonetheless.

As she strode into the dining room, she already felt like the lady of the house. The staff were all very forthcoming and seemed genuinely pleased she was there. It was such an opposite experience to her parents’ estate, where even the cook would ignore her requests. Sometimes she felt as if she were dreaming and it couldn’t be real.

She took her seat and looked about the place setting to see that the paper and quill she had requested were there. She wanted to start writing names down immediately, but she’d have to wait. She didn’t mind if she lost because she truly enjoyed the dowager Durham’s company, and it would be a wonderful opportunity to learn more about Philip and why he felt he was not a good son. Then again, even if she won, she could still visit his mother.

Philip came in and slowed. “Am I late?”

“No, I’m early. I grew impatient.”

His lips quirked up just a bit. “For dinner?”

She grinned sheepishly. “No, for our bet.”

“So if I said I’d hoped to postpone for another half-hour due to some business I need to attend to, you would be put out?”

“Business? Is it something important? Can I be of assistance?” She rose, ready to help in whatever way she could.

“No, I have no business. I was just being curious. Please, sit. I see we will be eating closer to each other than normal.”

She took her seat again. “I hope you don’t mind. I like being closer to you.”

He paused before he sat. “Do you grow fond of me, then?”

“I think no more fond of you than you for me.” At least, that was what she hoped.

“We do get along rather well. I’m pleased.” He held up his glass of wine. “I’d like to make a toast.”

Curious, she raised her glass.

“To you, my fascinating wife, and to our continued mutual respect and admiration.”

She nodded then took a sip. His toast was genuine and she was happy for it. He wanted her, was fascinated by her, and was fond of her. She was content.

He set his hand on the pieces of paper to the right of him. “Am I to assume this paper and ink is for the bet we made this morning?”

“It is.”

“If you don’t wish to go through with it, you don’t have to. After all, I’m betting against myself.”

“We have to. We kissed on it.” It had been a long kiss that had made her wish they could go straight to her room.

“That’s true. Very well. Let us see who will win.”

She signaled to the footman, and he removed their clean plates. Then she pulled a sheet of paper in front of her, dipped the quill in the ink, and began to write. She didn’t doubt her memory. The only concern she had was whether she’d learned of everyone.

It took a while to get down all one hundred and twelve. It did help that there were three Marys and six Toms, as well as doubles of at least three dozen other names. When she finished, she looked over to see that Philip was still writing, his penmanship large and full of flourish while hers was small and plain. Since he still wrote, she added some small leaves and buttercups to her paper to make it prettier.

He was on the third piece of paper when she’d finished decorating her two, so she counted the names to be sure she had them all. As he continued to write, she found herself getting nervous. That was silly, because if she lost, she didn’t truly lose, but maybe her pride in herself would be hurt. There weren’t many parts of her she took pride in, but her memory was one of them. How could she have thought such a bet would be fun?

Picking up her wine glass, she watched him continue to write. Every once in a while, he’d pause as if searching his memory, then add another three or four names. She understood that. She’d remembered them based on where they worked in the house or outside. She took a sip of her wine and put the glass down, then rearranged the silverware a few times.

Finally, he set his quill into the ink stand. “Done. Now we compare. I imagine we need to check names off.”

“Maybe we should first compare how many we came to. I have a hundred and twelve names.”