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

gift for George Blasington’s grandchild,” she said, holding the ring to the light. “Harold Blasington’s great-grandchild. It will be grand heirloom, don’t you think?”

Exeter stared at her. “You think you have won? My dear, you don’t even know how the game is played.”

“I must know something. At the end of the day, I have Henbury Hall.”

“But you lost what was most important. Blasington learned the lesson the hard way, and I was happy to make an example of him.”

Oh, the bitterness in his voice. Exeter must have carried the hate for her grandfather and father for a very long time.

“You should know by now, my lord duke, that you will never beat a Blasington. Not as long as I draw breath.” She could not respect such a man or his vaunted title, misstating it on purpose.

Carlow fortuitously approached the table and laid a hand upon Nora’s shoulder. “Congratulations, my dear. I should have warned your partners of your skill with a deck of cards.” He thought she had cheated. His raised brow and direct gaze pierced her, expecting that he could discern her intents and thoughts. For a change, he was wrong.

“Another game someday soon, I hope,” she said.

Exeter, red in the face, stared hard at Nora.

“There is nothing for you to say to my wife, your grace,” Carlow said. “Have a good evening.”

When the players drifted from the table, he asked, “Did you cheat?”

“No. I wanted to prove to myself that we are better than he will ever be.” She slipped her ring back on.

“I would have been very unhappy had you lost this.”

She held her hand up. “Can’t you tell? This isn’t my wedding ring. It’s one that was in my portion of the jewelry. I’m not even sure it is real.”

“It’s real.” Carlow laughed. “Why didn’t you wear your actual wedding ring?”

“You must be joking, sir. There are pickpockets and thieves about, and I will not surrender my beautiful ring so easily. Besides, I would have never made such an inadvisable wager if I thought I was really going to lose.” Nora frowned and put her hand to her side. “Carlow, I think you ought to take me home now. I don’t want this baby to make its first appearance at the Weatherby Ball after all.”

“Come.” He led her to a cushioned armchair near the fireplace.

“Maybe you should just call our carriage,” she said, and then gasped as a little pain pinched her side.

“Why don’t I get you some cool ale and you sit here where you cannot get into any trouble until I return?”

“Mmm,” Nora said, and pressed her hand against her stomach. She took a deep breath.

Carlow squatted next to her. “I can carry you out of here right now.”

“That would certainly set all tongues wagging. I will walk out of the Weatherby Ball just as I came in.” She squeezed his hand, needing to feel his steady strength. “I am all right. I just need to rest a moment.” She leaned back in the chair. “Yes, a drink would be nice, Carlow. I’ll wait here.”

“As soon as I get back, we will leave.”

“If you see Millicent, tell her I could use her assistance.”

“You don’t need my help?”

“If you had delivered a child, then you would be the first person I asked for advice.”

He smiled. “Give me a few minutes and I will be right back.” He pushed to his feet then bent to kiss her forehead. “If you have a son tonight, we are not naming him Weatherby.”

“I was thinking George.”

“A strong name, to be sure.” He hurried from the room.

Nora leaned back and closed her eyes. Millie would be along shortly to tell her if this was real or imagined.

Another pain struck, and Nora gasped. Yes, real. Very real. She started counting to keep track of the time Carlow was gone. If the clock in the hallway rang, she would waddle from the room to find him.

A sudden gush of warm liquid seeped between her legs and onto Lady Weatherby’s brocade chair. “Oh, no.” Now Carlow would have to carry her. She could not be seen with wet skirting while dribbling across the floor as she walked.

What was keeping Carlow? And Millicent?

A sharp scream sounded outside the door. Shouldn’t I be the one screaming? she thought, then laughed. A sudden worry weighed heavy on her chest. Nora the Avenger could do anything. Could she also safely deliver a baby? Not on her own. She wanted Carlow and Millie, but she’d settled for Lady Weatherby’s clucking and fussing.

Millicent ran into the room, clutching the skirt of her dress. “Oh, Nora! I think someone has killed the Duke of Exeter!”

An Inadvisable Wager

Book Two, The Curse of the Weatherby Ball

Copyright © 2021 Eliza Lloyd

All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead or places, events or locations is coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover art by Kim Killion, The Killion Group Images

Electronic book publication 2021

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