Free Wicked Wager by Beverley Eikli Page A

Celeste watched her betrothed amidst his own surroundings. He appeared the most languid and carefree of gentlemen as he lounged with his guests, between walks in the gardens or over refreshments in the saloon, discussing local events and entertainments. His mother had engaged Celeste for the last hour on matters pertaining to the forthcoming wedding. There was the wedding breakfast to organise and the order of the day.
    Celeste’s heart was never less engaged, but she did her best to appear dutiful. She didn’t dislike her future mother-in-law. Lady Margery had always been kind to her and seemed somehow to understand Celeste’s inability to be truly excited. After all, it wasn’t as if Raphael had ever evinced a great enthusiasm to wed Celeste, either.
    But there were protocols, and once it was over and done with they could all get on with their own lives and interests.
    Finally the saloon was cleared of all but Lady Margery and Baron Rutherford, a constant companion these days of Raphael’s widowed mother. When these two were ensconced on chairs in front of the fire, Celeste glided over to her betrothed and, seating herself with her handiwork, said the words she knew would test his ability to hide the state of his heart. Oh, but it would be good to be the one to cause disharmony in his breast.
    â€˜Lord Peregrine knows where Harry is.’
    The flare in Raphael’s eye and his involuntary gasp told her more than his measured tone. Though her head was bent in apparent concentration of her needlework, she was secretly thrilled by his agitation and the tic at the corner of his mouth.
    â€˜You have met Lord Peregrine and he has told you all this? How remarkable.’ He raised an eyebrow while his right foot tapped the floor.
    But of course there’d be more; why had she not thought of the ramifications of her foolish words?
    Celeste tried to rein in her growing fear. Now he’d begin the questions and she needed to have the answers that would please him. Or rather, not dis please him.
    Raphael rose in his usual languid fashion and began to pace. A deep furrow ran between his eyebrows as he ran his thumb along his lower lip.
    Celeste hunched further over her work, working the stitches through blurred vision, desperately wishing she’d approached the conversation with more care; that she’d practiced her answers so there was no chance he’d suspect how her own feelings had been engaged.
    â€˜So Lord Peregrine knows where Harry is and he told you this.’ Raphael spoke under his breath, turning his inquisitorial gaze upon her. The topic was not one to be overheard. ‘What I would like to know, my dear, is why Lord Peregrine should have divulged such information to you. It seems a rather extraordinary coincidence.’ He looked steadily at her, and Celeste felt the unspoken threat like a cold shard of metal worrying more than just her conscience.
    She swallowed and glanced at her future mother-in-law at the far end of the room, glad now of her presence as Raphael went on, ‘What, in our esteemed viscount’s eyes, do you suppose could possibly connect you with Harry? Miss Paige has not identified you. Surely you did not lie to me when you said you’d destroyed the message contained within the locket? The locket went missing the night of Harry’s disappearance, you assured me, though you knew so much depended upon it.’ His pale, searching eyes needled her very soul as he added warningly, ‘Perhaps you did not tell me everything about that night, Celeste.’
    Celeste forced herself to meet his look. ‘I did not lie, Raphael, when I assured you that I removed the message as you instructed me …’ She took a breath, adding bravely, ‘after your … oversight … in forgetting to destroy Harry’s communication before you thrust his locket—and me—into the night to provide him with the salvation he requested.’