Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,29

back and the feeble light of a grey winter morning filled the room. Susannah groaned again and pulled the covers over her head. Her maid responded with a tut.

‘Come on now, mistress. You ordered the carriage to be here in an hour. That doesn’t give us long to get you ready...or shall I tell Edwards to go away again?’

‘No, no, I will get up.’

Susannah sat up and rubbed her eyes. She stared at the flames blazing merrily in the hearth. She had not heard the maid come in to light the fire, so she must have had some sleep, even if it had been disturbed by dreams. She sipped at her cup of chocolate while Dorcas bustled about the room.

‘It’s a cold morning, miss, will you wear the high-collar spencer?’

She held out the short, rose-coloured jacket with its fur trim.

‘Yes, yes, that will do.’ Susannah cast an eye at the bleak, overcast sky outside the window. ‘And you had better look out my old travelling cloak as well.’

* * *

The clock was just chiming the hour as Susannah descended the stairs. Gatley informed her that the carriage was ready, but instead of opening the front door for her, he accompanied his mistress to the lower floor and let her out of the door leading into the garden. Susannah was enveloped in her serviceable cloak and with the hood pulled over her curls she hoped she might pass for a servant as she sped through the garden and into the narrow alley that led between the stables fronting Crescent Lane, where her carriage was waiting. Before settling into her seat she drew down the blinds. If Lord Markham was abroad again this morning she would not risk being seen, even if she did have Lucas, her footman, standing at the back to give her countenance.

She stifled a yawn. It was thoughts of the viscount that had disturbed her sleep. She had gone to bed after the ball with her head spinning. When she closed her eyes she was once again dancing with Lord Markham, fingers tingling from his touch, heart singing from the caress of his smile. Yet no sooner did she relax in his company than he began to talk of the card parties and she would be on the defensive, suspicious of every remark. She rubbed her arms, suddenly chilled, despite the thick cloak and the warm brick her servants had placed in the carriage for her feet to rest upon. If Lord Markham would only leave Bath then she could be easy again.

But how dull life would be without him.

Susannah gave herself a mental shake. These megrims were unlike her, brought on by lack of sleep and travelling in this gloomy half-light. She pulled at the side of the blind and peeped out. They were well out of Bath now, and she thought she might safely put up the shades. The carriage rattled along through the country lanes, up hill and down dale until at last the carriage slowed and turned off the main road towards the village of Priston. Susannah sat forwards, knowing that very soon now she would have her first, clear view of her destination.

The carriage picked up speed as it followed the road that curled around the side of the valley and there, nestling against the hill on the far side of the valley, was a rambling Jacobean mansion built of the local Ham stone which glowed warmly, even in the pale wintry sunlight. It was not as grand as the other properties she had inherited from her Uncle Middlemass and it was in dire need of repair, as witnessed by the scaffolding surrounding the east wing, but she thought it by far the most charming. She was impatient to reach five-and-twenty, when she would have control of her fortune and would be able to fully renovate the building. Until then she must make do with what little money she could spare from her allowance, and the profits from the weekly card parties.

The carriage slowed again to negotiate the turning and her heart swelled with pride when she saw the newly painted sign fixed to the stone gatepost: Florence House. They bumped along the drive and on to the weed-strewn carriage circle in front of the house. They came to a stand before the canopied front door and Lucas jumped down and ran around to let down the steps.

As she descended, a motherly figure in a black stuff gown came hurrying out to meet