Free The Wicked Wager by Anya Wylde

room dreading
hearing the shrill tones of Mrs Barker and her daughter Prudence. She clutched
her sore head and prayed they were still in bed but was disappointed …
    Mrs Barker sat sipping tea and having a
whispered conversation with Lady Babbage. Prudence and Catherine sat silently
eating eggs on toast.
    Prudence was not a morning person, and she
would thankfully not utter a sound until she had consumed her chocolate and
three cups of tea.
    Emma fetched herself a slice of dry toast
and a cup of coffee before joining them.
    The duchess was still in bed as she never
came down for breakfast. She had explained to Emma that spirits were most active
at night, and she could not afford to sleep when there was so much to be
learned from them. The duke would have already breakfasted and would be in his
study.
    Catherine surreptitiously glanced at Lady
Babbage and then nodded a greeting to Emma. Emma understood the brief look; she
did not need words to interpret what Catherine was trying to convey.
    It was odd to see two such different
personalities involved so deeply in conversation. They refrained from saying
anything aloud, since Prudence sat a few feet away. They finished their
breakfast in silence, which was finally broken by Prudence.
    “What shall we do today? I do not feel like
riding down to the village. It looks as if it is going to rain.”
    “A stroll in the garden?” suggested
Catherine.
    “Alright,” Prudence replied grudgingly.
    Her tone suggesting that she would rather
be paying calls in London than be cooped up in the country.
    Emma forced herself to calm down. There was
no point in getting angry with Prudence. Even if she said anything, it would
likely sail over her head.
    They set out for their walk, and Lady
Babbage trailed behind with her sewing basket. Emma soon left the party behind
and made her way to the old gardener mucking about in the vegetable patch.
    “Nice day.”
    The earl grinned and said,
    “It looks like it is going to rain.”
    “Yes, but once it does rain, the roses will
moisten and the scent of them will be divine,” replied Emma.
    “A girl after my own heart, who appreciates
the scent of wet earth and drenched flowers.”
    “What are you planting?”
    “This right here, miss, is the herb patch.
I am going to plant some mint and rosemary.”
    “You will be a handy husband. We can let
the head gardener go and let you take care of the grounds. See, I am already
thinking like a wife and economizing.”
    “I don’t think I could look at another leaf
without shuddering in future. Studying a text is rather different from the
actual work involved. I am going to double my gardener’s salary once I am home.
By god, the man deserves it.” He paused to put away his spade, “Do you think
you can walk to the apple orchard and meet me where we met last time?”
    “I am not sure,” said Emma hesitatingly,
glancing back. Prudence and Catherine were fast approaching.
    “Try,” he coaxed.
    “Oh, alright, you go on ahead, I will meet
you in a moment.”
    Emma waited for the earl to hobble away
before turning to greet her cousin and Prudence.
    “We are going back inside. I think I felt a
drop,” said Prudence, staring up at the grey sky.
    “I have a mind to pick some apples, and
then I will join you. Cat, are you going to stay?”
    “I think you should come back with us,
Emma, you know father doesn’t like us walking alone.”
    “Oh, what can happen to me in broad
daylight? These are his grounds, after all. I shall be perfectly safe.”
    Catherine stood uncertainly until a great
big drop on her nose decided her.
    “Hurry, I don’t want you to get wet and
catch your death.”
    “I won’t be a minute, you go on. You will
see me before you reach the house.”
    Catherine nodded, and taking Prudence’s arm
she started walking back to the house. Emma noticed Lady Babbage doing the
same, and with a sigh of relief quickly made her way towards the Orchard.
    The earl stood waiting on the