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He made a harsh sound in the back of his throat that Aubriella couldn’t interpret.

Of course, he appeared utterly splendid, tempting masculinity wrapped in a muscle straining bottle-green jacket and black pantaloons. His emerald cravat pin twinkled playfully. She couldn’t remember another time he’d worn such an adornment.

In recent days, she’d observed all manner of details about Jackson Hart Callen Matherfield that had previously gone unnoticed.

Why, she could not fathom.

His brother, Duncan, seated with the Fitzlloyds, waved them over. Jack leaned down as they wended through the tables and whispered, “I have to return to London for a couple of days. Something urgent requires my presence.”

Jerking her head upward, Aubriella searched his face’s hard contours and angles.

Already a trifle trampled, her bruised emotions surged forward with a tsunami’s force. Temper unbridled and uncontrolled, she snapped, “So you don’t have to model for me? Less than four and twenty hours since I won our bet, and you’re breaking your word already?”

Aloofness entered his hazel eyes, turning them flintlike.

Ah, here was the ruthless, sardonic businessman others whispered about who’d clawed and scrambled his way to success and wealth. “That’s not the reason, though I confess I am relieved. I should be back in three days, and we’ll discuss our arrangement then.”

Arrangement?

They had a deal.

Aubriella would bet her carefully saved nest egg had she been a man, Jack wouldn’t consider breaking his word. Foreign, scorching anger surged through her, heating her blood and temper.

He was no different from her family or most of the people here. Everyone thought she wouldn’t mind being disregarded, manipulated, or lied to.

Well, he was wrong.

Theywere all bloody wrong.

Aware of how easily someone might overhear them, she modulated her tone. “Either you are a man of your word, Jackson Matherfield, or you are not. I won our wager, fair and square.”

He narrowed his eyes as he directed her toward an unoccupied corner behind a trio of huge potted elephant ears.

“And had I won, Aubriella, would you have honored your stake?”

Aubriella averted her gaze. “It’s not that simple.”

“Exactly.” Sarcasm he generally reserved for others lanced her.

She’d been naive to believe anything had changed between them.

“My appetite has flown.” She lifted her chin and retreated a step. Icy politesse replaced their former friendship. “I’m returning to the house.”

“Suit yourself.” Without another word, Jack turned his back and made for his brother’s table.

With an odd aching in her throat and heart, Aubriella slipped out the door. As she turned to latch the handle, she perused the conservatory. Engaged in conversation and tea, not a single person noted her departure.

In truth, she could disappear, and days would pass before anyone noticed her absence.

Never had she felt more alone, and Jack’s impending departure made her realize how much she’d come to rely upon him. She’d been a fool to trust him. An idiot to think this Christmas would differ from a dozen others.

That was what came of banking upon anyone but one’s self.

Rebellion, mutiny, and disgust burgeoned within her.

By God, she’d had bloody well enough.

You are not a feckless female, Aubriella Kendra Larkspur Penford.

If you’re discontent, do something about it.

I shall!

Suddenly resolute, Aubriella marched to the house, relishing the jarring cold snowflakes hitting her face. She didn’t wait for Fredericks, the butler, to open the door but let herself in. Finding the foyer empty, she brushed snow from her cheeks, then stripped off her gloves.

A plump maid humming to herself wandered down the corridor and gave a startled jump when she saw Aubriella. “Did you need something, Miss?”

“Indeed.” Aubriella sucked in a breath, bracing herself for what she was about to do. “Have the Penford coach brought around in fifteen minutes.”