Free The Dowager's Wager by Nikki Poppen Page B

Surely that suggested the
woman was an unwanted nuisance to him. But there were too
many other claims for which Isabella did not have answers.
What had Gresham done during the war? What had the
woman meant by her reference to his entertainments?

    Isabella had her own questions and doubts. Had Tristan
known this woman as more than a casual acquaintance? The
woman had certainly suggested as much. If so, did he still
care for her? She recalled Tristan’s response that he liked
the candidates she’d chosen, he just didn’t love them. Didn’t
love them or couldn’t love them? Why? She had thought it
was because he might love her, but in hindsight she thought
perhaps it was because he was already attached to Beatrix of
the bountiful cleavage and cold heart. What did an honorable man like Tristan see in a brazen woman like that?
Worse, perhaps he had meant to tell her about Beatrix that
night at the ball. Like a silly girl, she’d thought he meant to
declare himself when in actuality he’d been ready to let her
down easily. She was mortified that he might have guessed
her feelings for him. She’d tried so hard to hide her growing
attachment to him under the guise of friendship. Apparently,
she had failed.
    Isabella poured out her speculations to Amy as they sat
over tea at Briarton House five days after the scandal broke.
    “You did the best you could, my dear,” Amy comforted
her. “Have another scone, you look wan. I am sure all this has
worn you out. I suppose there’s no hope for a match with
Cornelia Hamilton now. What will you do?”
    Isabella tried to show a lack of concern. “The scandal will
pass by the time the Season is in full swing. He’ll be presentable again by then. I am certain there is a large amount of
misunderstanding mixed in with all this nonsense. All the
nosy parkers who are whispering rumors now will be groveling for his forgiveness by April.”
    “And if not?” Amy replied in a cautious tone that hinted
at more.

    “What do you know, Amy?” Isabella asked suspiciously,
setting down her teacup and waiting for the worst.
    Amy lowered her voice. “Briarton told me that the latest
rumor around the clubs is that Gresham has recently
acquired a secret admirer who sends him roses on a daily
basis with love notes tucked inside. Everyone speculates the
admirer is the Smallwood woman.”
    Isabella looked at her friend triumphantly. “That’s the
biggest bit of poppycock I’ve heard in ages. Who started the
rumor? I’d bet it’s that idiot, Calverton.”
    Amy shook her head. “Briarton heard the rumor from
Gresham himself, just the admirer part, not the bit about Mrs.
Smallwood. That’s everyone else’s addition,” she clarified.
    Isabella was grateful she’d already set her teacup down or
she would surely have dropped it, so great was her shock.
Tristan had an admirer? First the rejection of the decent candidates she’d put together, then the appearance of the problematic Mrs. Smallwood and now the brazen secret admirer
he flaunted for public notice. These were not the behaviors of
the Tristan who had counseled her to make the honorable
choice seven years ago. This new Tristan was a womanizer,
a man of dubious connections and questionable practices.
This Tristan had come home with a shattered hand and a
murky past which he never discussed. What had her heart
gotten her into? Isabella began to realize she didn’t know this
Tristan at all.
    Late Afternoon, the Sail and Anchor Public House on the
docks
    The sounds of workmen loading and unloading drays in
the dockside street were minimally shut out in the relative
privacy of the dingy parlor she had frequented all too much
in recent weeks. Her surroundings added to her growing irritability as she glowered at her partner. “You look too comfortable in such squalid surroundings. Used to slumming, are you?” she snapped as she shoved his polished, booted
heels off the table. He was handsome