Page 35 of Wagering for Miss Blake (Lords and Ladies in Love 4)

Her mood plummeted, and she considered returning to the house. Perhaps something she’d eaten at luncheon had not settled well in her stomach. That was most likely her trouble, and she should take a walk to help her digestion. To an area where she could not see the boaters.

“Miss Blake, would you care for a ride in one of the rowboats?” Lord Campbell strode up to her.

“Thank you, my lord, but I believe I will just take a short stroll. I feel a bit unsettled, and don’t think a boat is the place to be at this time.”

“Oh, Lord Campbell, I would love a boat ride, if Miss Blake does not wish to do so.” Lady Barrington, another young widow recently out of mourning, hurried toward them. It was rather forward of her to ask, but Suzanna had heard the poor woman’s late husband had left her with nothing—his money spent on gambling and his mistress. She huffed. Another titled gentleman of the ton who did not take care of his responsibilities. It appeared Lady Barrington was forced to look for a replacement, since rumor had it that her own father was in no better straits due to his self-indulgence.

What a sad and desperate life is foisted upon women.

“Go on and enjoy yourselves.”

Lord Campbell eyed her. “Are you sure you are well, Miss Blake?”

She waved him off. “I will be fine.” She turned and walked away. Lady Hancock and Lady Livingston, both elderly members of the ton, sat under a tree, fanning themselves and watching the young people, just waiting for a misstep to spice up their afternoon.

With no one paying her any mind, Suzanna headed from the group and toward a wooded area that looked cool and welcoming. Hopefully, the gossiping ladies did not notice her departure, so she would not become fodder for the next ton scandal.

Her footsteps were muffled by the layer of damp leaves underfoot. The moist air felt good against her skin, and warm sunshine peeked through the leaves. She was free. Happy. Not concerned about Miss St. George and Mr. Templeton.

She meandered along, smiling at the little animals that stood up and studied her, their noses twitching, then racing off to hide. A few flowers managed to grow in the deep vegetation, despite the dampness and lack of full sun. She bent over, picked one, and sniffed. No scent, but pretty nonetheless. She tucked it into her bodice and went on her way. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the little bit of time to herself. The stroll was doing wonders for her disposition.

After about thirty minutes, she had wandered far from the group and should probably return. She hadn’t taken any turns on the path, so she reversed and headed back in the direction from which she’d come.

She stopped at an odd sound and tilted her head to listen. Holding her breath, she heard it again, and turned in a circle. About thirty yards from her stood a very large, very hairy, very big-toothed dog. He lowered his head and growled, his hair standing on end.

“Nice dog.” She barely got the words out past her suddenly dry lips.

He took a few steps closer, saliva dripping from his mouth. Oh dear God, is he rabid? She backed up and smacked against a tree trunk. “Nice dog.”

The dog stopped and sat on his haunches, continuing to stare at her. She licked her dry lips and moved a few inches forward, reaching her hand out. Perhaps, if she appeared friendly, he would relax. Instead, the dog sprang up again and growled.

Suzanna searched the ground for any sort of a weapon, a branch, anything. Then she looked up at the tree she stood under and saw a long hanging branch. “Oh God, I haven’t climbed a tree in years.”

The dog growled again and moved closer, his eyes like steel. Before she gave it too much thought, she grabbed the branch, swung a few times, and pulled herself up, her skirts catching on a broken limb. The dog growled louder and ran toward her. She yanked on her gown and petticoats, the sound of fabric tearing muffled by the dog’s frantic barking.

She reached desperately for the branch above her and pulled herself up. The dog’s paws bounced against the trunk, and the whole tree shook. He barked, growled, and snapped his massive jaws as she sat above him, her breath coming in deep gulps as she watched the animal.

Looking longingly toward the picnic area, she sighed. No one knew where she had gone.

Isn’t this a fine mess? Now what do I do?

Chapter Ten

Giles’s arm muscles tightened as he rowed the small boat back to shore, anxious to be rid of Miss St. George and her constant giggles, and locate Suzanna. From the boat, he’d seen her speaking with Cam, and then Cam headed toward the lake with Lady Barrington. Within moments, Suzanna had turned and walked away from the picnic area, past Lady Hancock and Lady Livingston. He’d not seen her since and was growing concerned.

“I would love a lemonade, my lord.” Miss St. George grabbed his hand as he helped her from the boat.

“I am not a lord. But I will be delighted to bring you a lemonade.”

She giggled. He sighed.

He, on the other hand, would be delighted to find Suzanna, since he still did not see her upon his quick glance around the area. He hurried to the refreshment table, accepted a glass of lemonade from the servant, and returned to where Miss St. George had taken a seat. He held the glass out to her.

She patted the chair alongside her. “Won’t you join me for a minute?” The chit regarded him over the rim of her glass, the look she cast him causing his stomach to cramp. She had him in her sights now, and that was not good.

Not wanting to insult her but growing more anxious by the minute, he bowed. “I would love to, but unfortunately, I see Lord Danvers summoning me.”

Lord Danvers was fast asleep under a large maple tree, but hopefully, with the position in which Miss St. George sat, she would be unable to see the man snoozing away.