Cocky Earl - Annabelle Anders Page 0,104

smiling now. A genuine smile.

Over the past week, Bethany had told Charley all sorts of details about a number of the guests. And she’d not excluded Lord Brightly. The title was an old one, and a respected one, but unfortunately, as was often the case…

It also was an impoverished one.

Charley’s gaze inadvertently met that of the young woman who’d been caught in the middle of all of this. Felicity lifted her chin encouragingly.

“A pen please?” Brightley’s request cut through the sudden tension.

Charley jerked her attention back to the table where Mr. Spencer placed a most elegant writing utensil into the older man’s hand while a servant slid a piece of parchment in front of him. She’d expected this. His wager would come in the manner of an I.O.U. Charley couldn’t help but wonder how many other gentlemen possessed similarly fashioned documents.

When the earl glanced up, his pen poised, Charley made sure that the notes her father had entrusted her with barely peeked over the top of the velvet purse.

“Five hundred pounds,” Lord Brightly said at the same time he wrote it out. He placed the parchment wager in the center of the table with a flourish.

Jules’ gaze hadn’t wavered from the game and his presence was precisely what she needed to bolster her courage for her next move.

She bit her lip and leaned forward. “Shall we make this interesting, My Lord?”

He held four aces. In his mind, losing wasn’t even a possibility.

“What do you have in mind, Miss Jackson?” His words came out condescendingly accommodating.

“I probably oughtn’t to wager all of my pin money.” She had to keep herself from snorting as she said the words. Pin money! “But I do have something that might be of value to you.” She went on before he could interrupt her. “My father and I are American,” she tittered as though that ought to come as a surprise to him. “And as such, we are perhaps, somewhat less conventional than you English lords. So I don’t hold a dowry of any sort. Rather, I am half-owner of my father’s Pennsylvania distilling operations. If you’re amenable, I’d like to wager that.”

And then she sat back calmly, paused for just a few seconds, and then nodded, as though she had questioned her wager and then decided to go ahead with it.

Lord Brightley’s eyes narrowed. “To my understanding, your father’s company is lucrative indeed. You say you are half-owner?”

Charley opened her eyes wide. “Without a son, I am my father’s partner and right-hand man.” It was what she’d been striving toward for as long as she could remember, what she’d always wanted. As she spoke the words, however, she realized she now had a different dream.

A better dream. And it was good. She wasn’t giving up, she was moving on.

Lord Brightly pursed his lips and then frowned. “As much as I’d like to meet your bet, you must understand that a goodly portion of my wealth is entailed. What could I possibly have that could be of equal value to your wager?”

Charley touched a hand to just above her décolletage and then higher, to flutter self-consciously along one of the curls that trailed along her cheek.

She then lifted her chin and, taking a deep breath, stared back at the man squarely. “You have the late Lord Westerley’s signature on a contract promising his son to your daughter. I would have you tear it up.”

An audible gasp rolled throughout the room.

Lord Brightley’s brows rose. “Tear up the contract? As a wager?”

She nodded. “As your wager.”

The earl leaned back, his smile so confident that it was clear that the possibility of him losing was farther from his mind than Philadelphia was from London.

“Done.” He grinned.

Charley tilted her head. “Very well. What do you have, my lord?”

One by one, he showed his cards. She’d been correct. Just as he went to reach for the pot, Lord Greystone placed a hand on the earl’s arm, halting him.

“And what do you have, Miss Jackson?”

Ever so slowly, she offered her hand for all to see.

A royal flush.

All hearts.

Chapter 30

WELL DONE, MISS JACKSON

“What the devil?” Lord Brightly gaped at Charley’s cards in shock, a horrified expression twisting his mouth. When he turned to meet his daughter’s eyes, Charley almost felt sorry for him. Felicity rushed across the room to console her father as strong arms literally lifted Charley out of her chair.

She’d done it. Relief rushed through her as she twisted around and slid her arms up and around Jules’ neck. She didn’t

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