Wedding Wagers by Donna Hatch & Heather B. Moore & Michele Paige Holmes

Author:Donna Hatch & Heather B. Moore & Michele Paige Holmes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency romance, Clean & Wholesome Romance, Historical romance, Victorian Romance, Romantic Comedy
Publisher: Mirror Press, LLC
Published: 2018-08-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Juliet stood at her bedchamber window, watching the line of carriages approaching Southill Estate. In a few minutes, members of the ton would set foot inside her home, the men and women in their finery and sophistication. They’d be here for two weeks of food, games, hunting, and dancing.

Lord Locken had done it. He’d somehow reconciled with her brother and convinced him to hold a house party. She didn’t know how John would afford all of this but could only hope that his new connections would prove fruitful in the long run.

As for herself, she couldn’t forget her wager with Lord Locken. He’d mentioned nothing of it in his single letter to her. Yes, he had written her a letter, and if society knew about it, it would be considered scandalous since they weren’t related. But when her brother had told her of the house party, she’d done as Lord Locken had suggested. She’d spent time going over her options and what she wanted for her future.

Juliet came to the realization that she wanted to fall in love, wanted to marry, wanted a home of her own, wanted children. So . . . she wrote a short note to Lord Locken.

His reply came only a few days later.

Below, the first carriage, laden with two trunks, stopped in front of the manor, and two women alighted amid a flurry of activity as the hired help that Lord Locken had sent bustled about the women. John welcomed them, fawning over each lady in turn, bowing to kiss their hands, then leading them into the house.

They’d planned for Juliet to enter the drawing room when everyone had arrived. She suspected her brother was scouring for a wife—one with a large dowry—and that might have been why he agreed to Lord Locken’s plan.

Now Juliet reached into her bodice and removed the three-times folded letter from Lord Locken. She opened the creased page again, although she had his words memorized.

Dear Lady Juliet,

I received your message with gratitude. I applaud your decision, and I don’t believe you will regret it. I look forward to our reunion.

Yours,

—V R

His dark, slanted handwriting complemented his decisive nature. Juliet’s gaze dwelt on his signature, Yours, V R. His given name was Victor Roland, and ever since she’d received the letter, she’d struggled to think of him as anything other than Victor. Something she’d have to put out of her mind so she wouldn’t make the error of calling him by his Christian name.

The second carriage came to a stop, and the groomsmen strode over to attend to the next group of guests. The carriage door opened, and out stepped the man who had made all of this happen. Even though Juliet could only see the top of his dark head, she knew instantly it was Lord Locken. He still used his cane. He’d dressed in a light gray jacket with darker breeches, and he wore a vest of a pale yellow. If anything, he was more handsome than Juliet remembered.

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