Page 75 of Wagering for Miss Blake (Lords and Ladies in Love 4)

Father shook his head. “You are truly a brave man.” He tapped his finger against his chin, studying Giles. “Very well, I will permit you to do whatever it is you think will work.”

“Excellent. I would like to invite you, Mrs. Blake, and Miss Blake to dinner next Thursday.”

“At a bachelor’s home?” Father asked.

“No. I will write to my mother this very day and send the missive by special post. I will have my parents, the Earl and Countess of Wexford, open their townhouse here in London, and the countess will host the dinner there.”

“You are so certain of your mother’s assistance, then? Next Thursday is a mere ten days off.”

“Mr. Blake, are you acquainted with any mother who would not do everything in her power to see one of her offspring wed? My mother is no different, I assure you.”

Father grinned. “You make a valid point. Very well. I shall await your invitation.”

…

Giles began his campaign the very next day to win over the exceedingly stubborn Mrs. Blake. He arrived with a small bunch of violets—Mrs. Blake’s favorite flowers—a bright smile, and a compliment for the woman. At first, she was cold and almost rude. When he did not give up, she seemed to thaw a bit, but no one seeing them together would assume she felt anything but dislike for him.

He danced attendance on her at every social event at which they were present. He tracked Suzanna and her mother down at Gunter’s and bought them ices, then strolled with them as they walked along, looking in store windows. He’d never worked so hard in his life to gain a smile from a woman, but the more she resisted him, the more resolute he became to earn her good will.

At the Malford ball, he asked Mrs. Blake’s permission to dance with Suzanna. He fetched her lemonade and champagne. He took every opportunity to mention his father, the earl, his mother, the countess, and his elder brother, the viscount.

Suzanna spent a great deal of time laughing behind her fan.

“Don’t laugh, I think she’s beginning to like me.”

Suzanna laughed harder.

Using the Duke of Bedford’s box, he escorted Suzanna, Mr. and Mrs. Blake, and Lord and Lady Montford to the theater. He fetched drinks and walked with the ladies around the lobby during intermission. He smiled, nodded, and fetched more drinks. He returned to the carriage to retrieve Mrs. Blake’s shawl when she said she was chilled.

Finally, at home, he collapsed on his bed. Exhausted.

The evening of the dinner hosted by his parents had arrived, and Giles admitted to himself this was truly the most difficult thing he had ever done. For some reason, that thought strengthened his determination.

Earn it, lad.

Five days after he’d sent his missive by special delivery, his parents and two younger sisters, Alexa and Marie, arrived in London. His mother patted him on the cheek after climbing from her carriage, and all he’d seen of her since then was the back of her head, her arms waving as she gave instructions. Father kept himself closeted in the library.

Mother became a whirlwind of activity. The skeletal staff at their townhouse was quickly increased, and before long, the house had been cleaned, aired, and every surface polished. Mother and Cook spent hours working out the menu, while Marie and Alexa were set to arranging flowers from the well-kept garden.

Anytime Giles arrived to see the progress, he was shooed away with instructions not to return until Thursday evening. As much as he had wanted to escort Suzanna to his parents’ townhouse for the dinner, he bowed to Mrs. Blake’s wishes that she travel with her and Mr. Blake.

Here he paced in the library, his father looking relaxed and enjoying the brandy. “Son, if your mother has any say in this, when this dinner is ended, Mrs. Blake will welcome you with open arms.”

“Ah, Father, you have no idea with whom we are dealing. The woman has insisted Suzanna marry a man with a title since she was barely out of nappies.”

“’Tis true I don’t know Mrs. Blake, but I know your mother. Anyone who stands in the way of one of her children’s happiness has no chance of success.”

The sound of the knocker, and Marvin, the footman, greeting their guests, drew their attention. “Where is Mother?”

Father stood and clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax, lad. She has it all under control. I have great faith in my countess.”

Giles straightened his cravat, pulled on the cuffs of his shirt, and left the library. Lord and Lady Montford, Mr. and Mrs. Blake, and Suzanna all stood in the entrance, handing over bonnets, shawls, and hats. Mother held both Mrs. Blake’s hands and chatted as if they were old friends.

Score one for Mother.

Giles had no idea what had been served for dinner, because all his attention was focused on Mrs. Blake and his mother. He’d never met anyone who had not fallen under his mother’s spell once she put her mind to it, and to his great relief, it appeared Mrs. Blake had succumbed, as well.

At fifteen and seventeen years, his sisters joined them for dinner, their manners impeccable, their contribution to the conversation delightful. Mother’s regal air, and Father’s social consequence, left no doubt in anyone’s mind that even though their son held no title, he was a man of consequence, himself.