Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,1
madeira before tea is brought in.” Chase, who was formally known as Baron Chaswick, offered the challenge rather matter of factly, drawing Jules’ gaze to his pals seated at the end of the window seat. Likely, it was Chase who’d captured the ladies’ attentions. The baron’s astonishingly good looks seemed to more than make up for the fact that he was a mere baron. Jules and the other gents found it more than satisfying to taunt him on occasion for his beauty.
Chase slid his startling blue gaze over each of them when none answered immediately, and then brushed back a lock of blond hair in irritation while Jules pondered the wager, weighing the most likely outcome. Lady Starling had already downed most of her first glass and she’d only arrived ten minutes before.
“I’ll take that bet.” Greys raised his glass. “But I don’t want your money when I win. I’d prefer to watch you pay her court this evening.” Greys had a gleam in his silver eyes.
Chase contemplated the marquess and then nodded. “And when I win, it will be my pleasure to see you do the same.”
Greys nodded.
From a tall chair in the corner, Stone Spencer, a mere mister, shook his head. “Count me out of this one. She may be beddable, but she is far from sheddable. Pity the man she sinks her talons into. He’ll spend the remainder of the house party strategizing evasive maneuvers in order to escape her. Besides, women are far too unpredictable to bet on. I’d rather take my chances on a horse, or any animal, hell even an insect is preferable.” Stone lifted his glass toward the window. “See that moth in the window? I’m willing to bet twenty pounds that the first place he lands will be on one of the flowers in your sister’s hair.” Stone’s wager piqued Jules’ interest far more than Chase’s had.
“Which one?” Jules located his two sisters near the window, taking note of the floral concoctions woven into both of their coiffures. They were mostly blocking the lady with whom they were conversing—except for the top of her head, which was a garish reddish-orange color. He’d never seen anything as bright and found himself almost offended by it.
“Lady Tabetha’s,” Stone answered.
Tabetha was the more vivacious of his sisters. She had bouncing blond ringlets and tended to overstep the boundaries set for a young lady her age more often than not. Jules cringed at the thought that she’d be making her come-out that spring. If only she could be more like Bethany, who at two and twenty—three years older than Tabby—was levelheaded, calm, and practical where gentlemen preferred.
His gaze dropped to Bethany’s right hand where she was tapping each finger to her thumb, counting God knows what. Her oddities might make her a little eccentric, but they were harmless. She paused her tapping to reach across and adjust one of Tabetha’s ringlets and Tabetha rolled her eyes.
Bethany might need to tone down some of her impulses if he was ever to marry her off. Such fussiness could deter most gentlemen before they realized what a gem she was. Jules sighed.
Being guardian to his sisters wasn’t something he’d planned on and was proving increasingly more complicated.
He pushed those concerns away in favor of the business at hand. The moth was far more likely to land in the fiery-colored hair of Tabby’s companion. If it landed at all. It was a good bet to take.
“Very well,” Jules agreed and all six of them transfixed themselves immediately on the antics of the destination of a common house moth.
It hovered near one of the pink roses in Bethany’s hair but just as it went to land, the redheaded woman shooed it away. Her hands, he noticed, were slim and pale and ringless.
A few groans from their corner drew a suspicious glance from Bethany. Ah, yes, Bethany no doubt guessed that they were betting. She wouldn’t know what they were betting on though, smart as she was. He couldn’t help but chuckle to stymie her.
“A time limit is necessary,” Blackheart, the duke amongst them, commented. “Shall we allow the creature two minutes before Jules wins by default?”
“Ninety seconds.” Stone sent a questioning glance in Jules’ direction. Jules nodded and Blackheart reached for his timepiece.
The moth fluttered back into the curtains at the same time his sisters changed their positions just enough that he could partially see the profile of the scarlet-haired girl.
She wore flowers in her hair as well—large white daisies that