Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,62

rejoined her aunt after a series of lively country dances her cheeks ached with the effort.

‘Heavens, I never thought dancing could be such a chore,’ she muttered, following Aunt Maude to a space where they might not be overheard, but when asked if she wanted to go home, she quickly disclaimed, ‘I beg your pardon, Aunt, I should not be complaining. There are still many here who do not care a fig for my association with Florence House.’

‘Yes, my love, but they are not the high sticklers who can make a difference to our long-term plans. If the cream of Bath society should turn against you, then your patronage of Odesse could count against her—’ Aunt Maude broke off and gazed past Susannah, a wary look in her eye.

‘Miss Prentess, would you do me the honour of standing up with me for the next dance?’

Jasper’s cool voice brought the angry flush back to Susannah’s cheeks. Had he not understood what she had said to him? Without turning, she said coldly, ‘No, my lord, I will not.’

Aunt Maude gasped in horror, but Susannah merely hunched one white shoulder. Instead of moving off, the viscount stepped closer. She was aware of his presence, the heat of his body at her back. She could feel his breath on her cheek as he spoke quietly in her ear.

‘Think carefully about this, madam. Your credit in Bath is sadly diminished. Can you afford not to dance with me?’

She bit her lip. He was right. It did not take Aunt Maude’s beseeching stare to tell her so. Slowly she turned around. He smiled and held out his arm, but the steely glint in his eye told her he was not in the mood to be refused. Reluctantly she placed her fingers on his sleeve.

‘That is better. Let us see what we can do to repair the damage.’

‘I am doing this under sufferance,’ she muttered as he led her on to the floor. ‘I have not forgiven you.’

‘Since I am not at fault there is nothing to forgive,’ he retorted. They took their places facing one another, more duellists than dancers. He bowed to her as the music started, and as they passed in the dance he continued, ‘Do you know, you are the most stubborn female I have ever met.’

‘It must be a novel experience for you, my lord, to find a woman who will not toady and flatter you.’ She bit the words off quickly as they circled about the other dancers. Angry as she was, Susannah did not wish anyone else to hear their argument. When Jasper took her hand again he carried on the conversation.

‘Not at all—’ they separated, circled, returned ‘—there are many such, but few who would be as ungrateful as you.’

Susannah’s eyes flashed, but she was obliged to hold back her retort until they were once again holding hands.

‘Oh, so I should be obliged to you, should I, because you deign to stand up with me?’

‘No, you tiresome wench, because I am trying my utmost to prevent you from becoming a pariah. My attendance upon you may persuade those ladies whose support you need to think better of you.’ His lips curved upwards as he watched her struggle. He reached out and took her hand as the last notes of the music died away. ‘You know I am right,’ he murmured as he bowed over her fingers. ‘I can make you or break you tonight.’ He straightened and bestowed on her his most charming smile. ‘Well, Miss Prentess, what is it to be? Shall we stay for the cotillion?’

The fact that he was right did nothing for Susannah’s temper. In any other circumstances she would have swept off and left him standing alone on the dance floor, but she was well aware that such an action would only increase the disapprobation already surrounding her. She cared nothing for her own standing in Bath, but at present Florence House could not survive without the extra revenue she could provide. In the future she hoped there would be sufficient money from Odesse and the lace-makers to help maintain the house, but

this was a critical time. She needed the viscount’s support.

With enormous effort she forced herself to smile at him, saying through her clenched teeth, ‘With the greatest of pleasure, Lord Markham.’

* * *

‘Well, that passed off exceeding well,’ declared Mrs Wilby as she waited for Susannah to extricate herself from her chair in the hallway of Royal Crescent. ‘Lord Markham’s timely intervention