A Christmas Wedding Wager

A Christmas Wedding Wager by Michelle Styles Page A

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Authors: Michelle Styles
Tags: Romance
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practised the steps in her bedroom this afternoon. She'd been determined not to make a fool of herself. And now it appeared that Jack had simply used it as a way to get her to attend the dance. She need not have bothered.
    A tiny smile appeared on Jack's face. 'I never doubted that for an instant.'
    'Ah, Miss Harrison, what an unexpected pleasure.' Dr Milburn's strident tones echoed around her, causing her to jump. 'Is your father here as well? He looked peaked the last time we spoke. I fear it can be but a matter of time before we are called to increase the amount of tonic your father takes.'
    Emma winced and turned from Jack's suddenly narrowed gaze. She should have planned for Dr Milburn. She could only hope that he did not mention her father's illness.
    'My father has disappeared into the throng, yes.' She waved a vague hand towards the ballroom. 'He has probably gone to the gaming tables. You know his addiction to whist.'
    'You are taking a risk, Miss Harrison, a definite risk.' Dr Milburn shook his head, his blond locks slightly swaying. 'I trust you made sure he was well wrapped up before you both ventured forth?'
    His eyes lowered to her neckline. Emma felt her flesh crawl. She wished she had brought lace with her, but to retreat now would be to admit she had made a mistake.
    'My father has improved a good deal recently.' Emma raised her chin, and ignored the tiny pain in the back of her eyes.
    'I put it down to stimulating dinner conversation myself,' Jack remarked, straightening his cuffs and moving so that he had subtly placed his body between Emma and Dr Milburn.
    Dr Milburn looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow. 'And you are?'
    'Jack Stanton. I believe we knew each other in our younger years at school. You are Charles Milburn.'
    'Ah, yes, I can place the features. You were a charity case. I heard you were working for Harrison and Lowe again.' Dr Milburn's voice was cold. 'I suppose it explains why Miss Harrison has arrived with you.'

    'Mr Stanton is one of the foremost civil engineers of our day, Dr Milburn.' Emma kept her voice steady.
    'Indeed, Miss Emma.' Dr Milburn gave a cough. 'I must have heard the latest gossip wrong. I could have sworn that he had returned to his old post.'
    Emma bit her lip. The insult to Jack was unmistakable. She could tell from his stance that the barbed comment had hit home. After all he had achieved, he remained vulnerable.
    'Mr Stanton is looking after the project while my father recovers,' Emma said. 'He is Robert Stephenson's new partner, and has been entertaining my father and me with his tales of railways in far-flung places.'
    She waited, and saw Jack's shoulders relax slightly, and Dr Milburn's frown increase.
    'Hopefully you are making sure he takes his tonic, Miss Harrison. You must not underestimate its importance for a man in your father's condition. I have seen so many like him--fine one day, and the next they are at death's door. I am sure it is not a fate you wish on your father.' Dr Milburn drawled the words.
    'No, indeed.' Emma cringed. The last thing she needed was Dr Milburn dropping hints about her father's health in the presence of the man most likely to exploit the information. And she had to remember that Jack was the enemy, not Dr Milburn.
    'Edward Harrison needs medicine for a chill?' Jack asked. 'What is wrong with him?'
    'I recommend all my elderly patients take my tonic.' Dr Milburn puffed up. 'It does wonders for them. I am sure it helped prolong the late Mrs Harrison's life.'
    'My father has a very independent mind.'
    'I know, but I am counting on you, Miss Harrison. You will save a dance for me, won't you?'
    'But not a polka. She is already spoken for with that dance,' Jack said smoothly, but his eyes were cold.
    'Perhaps the Sir Roger de Coverley. It is a fine dance, very respectable.' Dr Milburn indicated that he considered the polka to be beneath him. 'The committee have decreed, in accordance with tradition, that the reel will be the last

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