Lucy Muir by The Imprudent Wager

reassured Benton with a nod.
    “Please bring some refreshment for Lord Stanton, Benton.”
    “Where did you get that butler?” Lord Stanton asked as Benton left the room. “He is still wet behind the ears.”
    “That was one way we cut down on expenses,” explained Anne. “He gives very good service despite his youth,” she said in his defense.
    Anne sat down on the damask sofa, while Lord Stanton lounged negligently against the mantelpiece, looking about the modestly furnished room with interest.
    “Why are you here, singling me out, Lord Stan-ton?” Anne asked after Benton had served Lord Stanton with wine and left them alone. “You are not keeping to the terms of our wager.”
    “I, Miss Southwell?” countered Lord Stanton. “You, I believe, were the first to digress, spreading about word of your cousin’s dowry.”
    “Indeed I did not, Lord Stanton,” Anne said, much stung. “I have said nothing about Melissa’s dowry. Mrs. Halcott was questioned by the mamas of some of Melissa’s prospective suitors, but only assured them that Melissa had a dowry. Mrs. Halcott told me that there is a rumour going about that Melissa and I are penniless, and she was afraid it might hurt Melissa’s chances of making a good match.”
    Lord Stanton observed Anne’s heightened colour and angry green eyes, thinking again how beautiful and desirable she was. He admired the picture she made in her long-sleeved pink muslin morning dress and lace cap, wishing he could remove the cap and run his fingers through her hair.
    An impatient shake of Anne’s head recalled him to his reasons for stopping at Half Moon Street. He was aware of the rumours of their insolvency as well as the counter-rumours about the dowry. He had supposed the temptation to tell of the dowry when the rumours of their impoverished financial state began had compelled Anne to act impulsively. Seeing her, he knew that not even the rumours would have moved her not to play fairly.
    “Very well, I will accept your word, if you in turn will forgive my calling upon you here,” he said, leaving his position by the fireplace and seating himself across from Anne on a mahogany Chippendale-style chair.
    “Gladly, Lord Stanton. I concede that you thought you had cause to take me to task,” Anne acknowledged.
    “Let us cry pax, then,” Lord Stanton said with the smile Anne found so irresistible. “Perhaps I can even help you,” he added. “Do you have any idea where the rumours of your precarious financial state originated?”
    “None at all, Lord Stanton,” Anne said, shaking her head in bewilderment. “It could have been anyone who knew of the baronet’s financial state when he died. I confess I have been having difficulty believing that such an insignificant rumour could so affect our social life. Many of the girls making their come-outs this Season do not have great fortunes.”
    “I did warn you not to make wagers about things of which you had insufficient knowledge,” reminded Lord Stanton. “Society is rarely kind, or fair. Even my title and wealth do not admit me to Almack’s or to the homes of some of the highest sticklers.”
    “In your case I think it is warranted,” Anne replied with spirit.
    “Perhaps I have reformed,” he suggested.
    “Lord Parnell would not agree,” Anne replied, and then blushed at the indelicacy of her response.
    Lord Stanton, however, merely grinned. “Jealous? There is no reason to be, I assure you.”
    Anne blushed more deeply, again feeling the pull of Lord Stanton’s personality. The intimacy she had felt with him at Longworth had been subtly re-established. They sat for a moment in silence, each very aware of the other. Anne was not sure whether to be glad or sorry when Sanders came in with some needlework and settled herself in a corner chair. Evidently, Benton, worried about his mistress’s reputation, had informed Sanders of Lord Stanton’s call.
    Lord Stanton smiled wryly at Anne, and finishing his