An Inadvisable Wager (The Curse of the Weatherby Ball Book 2) by Eliza Lloyd (the best novels to read txt) 📕

“Do you suppose that is what made your father a little insane? If they were truly friends, maybe there was an element of guilt that he could not tolerate.”

He raised his brows. “Lesser men have been felled by lesser crimes.”

“I will advise Timothy.”

“Thank you. You were right, Nora. You were right to seek the truth, but now none of us need the questions. Or jealousy. People aren’t always reasonable about others’ unique fortunes. And with your father’s reputation, who knows where that could lead? Also, I would recommend you either destroy the letter or somehow remove the incriminating information about my father, along with Fromme and Andover’s fathers.”

“You really think that it was about them? It was very ambiguous.”

“As he intended, but not ambiguous enough for my comfort. Timothy’s too. Fifteen years ago was not so long ago and Napoleon not so long dead. Someone would remember if it were put in front of their nose.”

She sat up, stupor conquered. Carlow had seated himself at the end of the bed. “I would give it all up to keep you,” she said.

“But you have me. You have to give up nothing.”

Nora reached for him and he met her hand with a gentle squeeze. “Had we only known the truth,” she said.

“I don’t know. Not everything was sewn up neatly. Just as your father couldn’t know where we are today, we couldn’t know most of those things happening the year before he was hanged. Aside from Exeter, all the principles are dead and gone.”

“And I don’t think Exeter would provide answers, even if he could,” she said. “What a miserable old churl.”

“We know enough.”

“How much of the trunk’s contents do you think are ill-gotten gains? If I wear one of those diamond necklaces at the next ball, who do you think will step forward to make a claim? Are we allowed to keep it?”

“Oh, please don’t make me the arbiter of good and right. Ask one hundred people and you’ll get one hundred different answers.”

“Would you think less of me if I said I want to shout it from London’s rooftops?”

“That is inadvisable. That’s all I will say. So, what next, Lady Carlow?”

“I’ve been thinking about that too.”

“You have?” Carlow said, wrapping his arm about her waist and pulling her close.

“Yes, indeed I have. We should begin, in earnest, to make ten or so little Carlow heirs so we have someone to inherit. We’ll never be able to spend all that, even half of it.”

“I don’t know about that. Henbury Hall is going to require more repairs, but I do like the idea as a general principle. And I will certainly do my part to make it happen. I should remind you before you commit to ten, only one will be the heir.”

“Gigi says that is poppycock. All of our children should be entitled to a portion, not just rely on the oldest for a minuscule slice.”

“Lady Fortenay’s day will come, but it is not this day.”

She wrapped an arm about Carlow’s neck. “My father’s life must have been very fascinating.”

“Until that bit about treason and hanging.”

“If he had lived, I would be more interesting.”

“Or you would be in the same situation as he was. Shackled with weekly conjugal visits from your husband.”

“For that you might have to bribe the guards,” she said.

“Whatever they want. As much as they want.”

“Or you could just rescue me from whatever difficulty I happen to be in that day.”

“I fear that is going to be my full-time responsibility. Hopefully, I won’t fail in this daunting task. I’ve seen firsthand the sort of trouble you get into.”

“You can keep me out of trouble by allowing me to spend time at Henbury Hall. I would like to be involved in all the details needed to repair the home.”

“London has no appeal?”

“I want to be wherever you are.” She settled more fully on his lap, nestling her bottom between his thighs and wrapping her arms about his neck. “And right now, where you are is exactly where I want you.”

Epilogue

Nora lumbered about the house, ready to deliver the cumbersome package she’d been carrying the last nine months, and Carlow, dreadful man that he was, had refused—refused!—to let her go to the Weatherby Ball this year.

As if he could keep her home on such a night.

“Carlow, the theme this year is the Garden of Heavenly Delights. Imagine the possibilities.”

“No. Would you like me to have Mintz bring up some pickles?”

“Pickles are making me sick. But I am going and that’s the end of it. I have my costume already.” Though she did resemble a tree trunk rather than a gracefully swaying maple.

“No costume and mask is going to hide that bump. Everyone will know it is you which defeats the purpose of a masked ball.”

“But perhaps I can be part of this year’s curse. What if I go into labor during the middle of the ball? I’m sure everyone would talk about it for the next year.”

“You don’t enjoy dancing under the best of circumstances, so that is very unlikely.”

“I’ve been taking lessons.”

“With your swollen ankles and your need to stay near a chamber pot?”

She hmpfed. “I will be fine.”

“How many times do I have to say no?”

“Until you are out of breath. I am going.”

“My dear, why don’t we stay home? I will hide one of your many baubles and you will have to find a way to steal it from me.”

She laughed. “Carlow, the last time we did that, I almost incapacitated you for a month.”

“I shouldn’t have wound the necklace so tight and you shouldn’t have removed your robe.”

Nora laughed. “Baubles. Shmaubles. I’m going to the ball.”