Page 57 of Wagering for Miss Blake (Lords and Ladies in Love 4)

Suzanna lay on her bed, a soggy handkerchief clutched in her fingers. The past week had been a nightmare.

Mother had not seen her dance with Giles when Lord Campbell had claimed his dance at the Robinson ball, but she did catch Giles kissing her hand as she left him to return to her mother’s side. The look on her face as Suzanna walked up to her was all she needed to know—disaster had struck.

Her mother had called for their carriage shortly afterward, and Suzanna had been subjected to a tongue-lashing all the way home.

“You have defied me, and I shall not allow it. Since your birth, it has always been my desire to see you wedded to a man of consequence. Mr. Templeton does not possess a title, and any children of his will suffer the lack.”

She had continued in that vein all the way home. Suzanna had suppressed the desire to cover her ears. She had never seen Mother so angered and almost on the cusp of derangement. Her behavior finally convinced her that her mother would never be dissuaded from her quest.

The railing at her on the ride home must have exhausted Mother, because instead of continuing her tirade, she’d swept past Suzanna and hurried up the stairs to her bedchamber without so much as a fare-thee-well.

They’d attended no more events, and three days later, she had been summoned to Lord Montford’s library to be told by her parents that Father had granted the Viscount Pemberton leave to court her. Suzanna hadn’t spoken to Lord Pemberton and wasn’t even certain what he looked like.

Tears and recriminations had not worked, nor had begging. Father was adamant. After seeing her at a rout, Lord Pemberton had approached him with his request, and he accepted. She was to meet him at dinner that very evening.

Mother’s smug look told her how the entire fiasco had come about. Suzanna would not be surprised to learn Mother had stood on a corner in Bond Street and accosted every gentleman who came by to offer her daughter up like a prize horse at Tattersalls.

Lord Pemberton had turned out to be a pleasant enough man. He had never married, and his overbearing mother, who had attended the dinner also, was determined to see the man wed.

Suzanna and Lord Pemberton had been allowed time alone for a walk in the garden. He was shy and had spoken only a few words the entire time. No matter how hard she’d tried, she could not imagine life with the man, and prayed that he would not offer for her.

No doubt he would never abuse her, and the few words he did utter were to assure her that, should they come to an agreement, he would provide well for her every need, not force his attentions on her unnecessarily—this said with a great deal of stammering—but would also never embarrass her by cavorting with his mistress in public.

She had almost choked to death at his last words, not sure

who was more embarrassed—her or him. After suffering through that walk, they’d returned to the library, where the three parents viewed them with looks similar to those cast upon small children when they recited their lessons perfectly.

Once Lord Pemberton and his mother had departed, Suzanna had returned to her bedchamber and cried herself to sleep.

She rose from her bed and moved to the window, pushing the drape aside. This newest round of tears came from the realization that Mother was determined to see this potential betrothal to the end.

Giles, where are you? Have you conceded the wager? I thought you never gave up?

Soon word would spread among the ton that Lord Pemberton was paying her his addresses. Would Giles be the knight in shining armor she’d dreamed of as a young girl, and climb the building to sweep her away?

She studied the side of the townhouse. If he tried to climb that, he would most likely fall and break both his legs. Perhaps she could convince her parents to allow her to stay in her room for years. Her hair would grow long enough to dangle out the window and allow Giles to climb up to her, like in the fairy tale.

Ouch. She rubbed her head.

She sighed at her ridiculousness. Of course, by then they would both be so old, it wouldn’t matter. A tap on her door drew her attention from the window. “Yes?”

Mother entered, a bright smile on her face. “Good morning, daughter. You must have Eunice’s lady’s maid attend you. We are going to the dressmakers to have a few new gowns made.”

The knot in her stomach grew heavier. “New gowns?”

“Yes. Of course, Father and I want you to look your best now that Lord Pemberton is courting you.”

“Mother, I must ask one more time for you not to do this to me. I do not want to marry Lord Pemberton. He seems like a nice enough man, but I don’t want to be his wife. I don’t love him, and I see very little about him that would encourage me to feel anything more than apathy toward him.”

For a moment, Mother’s face softened, and Suzanna held her breath. Was she actually going to consider her request?

Her mother walked up to her and pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I know you think we are bullying you into marriage with a titled gentleman—”

Yes.

“—but believe me when I tell you we know what is best for you.”

Suzanna’s spark of hope died as Mother continued. “Young ladies think of romance, love, and other impractical considerations. That is why it is much better when parents make the decisions on children’s marriages.