A Wager for the Widow. Elisabeth Hobbes

his eyes. ‘How many women do you need to bed before you convince yourself you aren’t a grotesque?’

      Unconsciously Will’s fingers moved to his scar. He caught himself and balled his fist. He reached for the bottle in Rob’s hand. It was empty, of course.

      ‘I meant to save you some, but you were longer than I expected,’ Rob said. ‘Sir Edgar kept you a long time tonight.’

      ‘I would have been finished sooner, but we were interrupted,’ Will explained. ‘Lady Peyton arrived in the middle of our discussion and delayed matters.’

      Rob let out an appreciative whistle. ‘Is she as beautiful as ever, and as prickly?’

      Will walked to the dais and straightened a couple of goblets, keeping his eyes averted from Rob. Prickly wasn’t how he would describe the way Lady Peyton had felt in his arms. In fact, she had been more appealing than any woman he had encountered in a long while.

      ‘I don’t remember how beautiful she was before,’ Will answered finally, raising his eyebrows. ‘I haven’t lived here for almost five years and when I left she was not yet a woman grown.’

      He tried to keep his voice light as he considered the woman young Eleanor Fitzallan had become, but experience told him Rob would not be easily deceived. Sure enough Rob followed him across the floor, pursing his lips suspiciously. Will poured them both a drink. He raised his cup in salute and drained it in one. It was not as fine as the one he had shared with Sir Edgar, but was at least as potent. A warm feeling began to envelop his head again and the knots in his shoulders eased. He regarded Rob over the lip of his cup and refilled it.

      ‘Yes, she’s beautiful,’ he admitted. He thought back again to their first meeting and his lips twitched. When she had rounded on him with such indignation on the ferry it had taken all his self-possession not to silence her fury with a kiss! Will ran his fingers through his hair, thanking his good fortune he hadn’t done so.

      ‘I think prickly would be a fair description,’ he conceded.

      ‘I always imagined taking a tumble with her would be akin to falling into a holly bush!’ Rob laughed.

      Will snorted noncommittally, wondering what his brother would say if he knew how close to the holly bush he had got. The way her green eyes had widened as he’d pulled her close to him had sent a throb of raw desire through his entire body that even now threatened to return.

      Enticing smells drifted from the kitchen so Will struck the large brass gong sharply. Whisking away their goblets, he took his position by the double doors to greet the household.

      Presently the family and household servants began to make their way into the hall. Sir Edgar and Lady Fitzallan led the procession followed directly by Edmund Fitzallan escorting Lady Peyton on one arm and Anne Fitzallan, fourteen and the youngest of Sir Edgar’s children, on the other. Will bowed deeply as Sir Edgar led his family to the table on the dais, but could not resist casting a surreptitious look at Lady Peyton. She caught his eye and her step faltered. A rose-coloured flush appeared enchantingly on each cheek. She nodded her head the smallest degree that manners would permit and Will hid a smile, turning instead to greet Edmund and Anne.

      * * *

      Throughout the meal Will’s mind was firmly on his duties, determined to ensure everything ran smoothly. Once or twice throughout the evening he sensed Lady Peyton’s eyes on him as he explained the ingredients of a particular dish to Sir Edgar, but if ever he looked directly at her she whipped her head down.

      * * *

      Before the sweet dishes were brought out Sir Edgar stood and left the table. The atmosphere took on a more informal air in his absence as members of the household dispersed or moved into groups and the hall became pleasantly alive with the sounds of voices and dice games.

      Will found a spot on the end of a bench and allowed himself a moment of satisfaction that the evening had been accomplished smoothly. He watched as the three women and their attendants moved to seats by the fireside. Lady Fitzallan and Anne began to devour a plate of honeyed figs, but Lady Peyton seated herself slightly apart from her mother and sister, her body perfectly still and her eyes downcast. The air of melancholy surrounding her was almost tangible and Will’s heart lurched at the sight.

      Edmund broke his reverie as he threw himself on to the bench and slung an arm around Will’s shoulder. Will greeted him with a distracted smile, the intrusion into his thoughts unwelcome.

      Edmund picked up a bottle of wine and filled two goblets to the brim. ‘You look weary, Will,’ he commented. ‘Was my father particularly demanding tonight? Did he agree to buy the wine?’

      ‘No, he wasn’t—and, yes, he did. He recognised the quality straight away. With a little more money to invest I could earn well from this vintage alone,’ Will answered. He sighed deeply. ‘It’s a pity my stake is so small.’

      They drank contentedly for a while, discussing the upcoming feast, Rob’s successful wager and impending marriage. Rob retrieved his kestrel from the perch by the fire with a bow and a few brief words to the ladies, then joined his brother and friend. Lady Peyton’s eyes followed him as he crossed the room and Will saw her expression change to a frown as she saw where he was heading.

      ‘Why does my dear sister keep glaring at you?’ Edmund asked suddenly, turning his head to Will. ‘Every time she glanced your way during dinner she looked as though she wished she had a sharper knife. Surely you can have done nothing in the hour or two she has been here to incur her displeasure?’

      ‘You must be imagining things, Edmund. What could I have done?’ Will asked innocently. He took a deep draught from his goblet.

      Rob leaned forward on his bench. ‘Will, you’re hiding something, I can tell.’

      Will sighed. He had intended to keep his encounter with Lady Peyton to himself, but now the matter had arisen of its own accord. The wine had relaxed his mood enough that he had a sudden impulse to share his tale.

      ‘We have met before tonight, though not in the best circumstances,’ Will admitted, a wry smile crossing his face. ‘Today I nearly caused her to drown. I’m fortunate not to be packing my bags as we speak!’ He described the encounter on the ferry and his requests for a kiss. By the time he had finished his tale Rob was open mouthed in disbelief. Edmund’s face was twisted into an incredulous smile.

      ‘I swear, Edmund, if I had known she was your sister I would never have behaved in such a manner,’ Will insisted. ‘I intended no offence.’

      Edmund swigged his wine with a careless shrug and raised an eyebrow. ‘None taken. The thought of my dear sister in such disarray has brightened up an otherwise tedious day. In all honesty I wish you had kissed her, Will. I wish anyone would, in fact.’

      Will and Rob exchanged a glance of surprise at Edmund’s words.

      ‘It would do Eleanor some good to be reminded that she’s a woman. She has been widowed so long I fear she has forgotten,’ Edmund explained. ‘She’s had a sad life,’ he said sorrowfully.

      ‘Here’s the target for our next wager,’ Rob crowed delightedly.

      ‘No, it isn’t,’ Will said sternly. ‘I’m done with all that and, even if I weren’t, I’m not putting my position here in jeopardy. I’ve worked too hard to get it.’

      ‘That would be the challenge, of course: to charm her without causing any risk to yourself.’ Rob smiled.

      ‘Coaxing a serving girl between the sheets is one thing. I have no intention of risking Sir Edgar’s rage by seducing his daughter,’ Will insisted.

      ‘I wouldn’t want her seduced completely,’ Edmund protested quickly. ‘I wouldn’t play games with her virtue so carelessly. A kiss, though, that would be a different matter and one that is unlikely to endanger your employment.’

      ‘A single kiss? That’s hardly any challenge,’ Will scoffed. He looked once more to where Lady Peyton