A WAGER WITH AN EARL

  LORDS OF TEMPTATION

  TAMMY ANDRESEN

  Copyright © 2023 by Tammy Andresen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  A Rendezvous With a Rake

  A Rendezvous with a Rake

  About the Author

  Other Titles by Tammy

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  www.tammyandresen.com

  Hugs!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hangovers were an inevitable consequence of rakedom.

  By slow degrees, Ethan Somersworth woke, reality making his stomach pitch. Or perhaps the rolling of his insides was actually the rocking of the carriage. His mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton and his head throbbed something fierce.

  He brought a heavy hand to his aching temple, attempting to scrub away the cobwebs that clouded his thoughts. Cracking open his eyelids, he was pleased to note the carriage he rode in was his own, not someone else’s, and that he was alone.

  On more than one occasion, he’d woken to find himself in a strange place and in the company of an unfamiliar woman. Which he’d likely enjoyed in the moment—he usually couldn’t remember—but then had to go through the tedious and painful exercise of extricating himself from the lady’s company while still suffering the aftereffects of alcohol.

  Attempting to sit up, he felt his stomach give a violent pitch, so he lay back down on the bench seat. The mystery of where he traveled would have to wait until the roiling of his stomach calmed.

  Would they reach an inn soon? Food might help, but even as he considered the notion of eating, sourness filled his belly and he groaned.

  He was a man prone to overindulgence. That was the benefit of having been an earl from the tender age of four. People rarely said no to him, and expected even less. Drinking, gaming, women: they were at his disposal.

  The only person who ever questioned him was his uncle, earl by proxy during Ethan’s childhood, his uncle had done a fantastic job of counteracting the world’s permissive nature. Nothing that Ethan had ever done had been good enough for him.

  One might argue that all his uncle’s disapproval from a young age had caused Ethan’s bad behavior, but he didn’t like to give his uncle credit for anything. Not even that.

  He let out an audible groan as a memory finally penetrated the fog of his mind. His uncle, sitting in Ethan’s study last night when Ethan had arrived home from the gaming hell he owned, Hell’s Corner, stiff and straight, eyeing his nephew with staunch disapproval while occupying Ethan’s favorite chair. With a hard jaw and a perpetual frown, he’d sipped Ethan’s whiskey and managed to look down his nose at his nephew as he lounged and Ethan stood in the doorway. “If it isn’t my errant nephew, finally home from another night of debauchery.”

  “If it isn’t my disapproving uncle,” he’d quipped back, used to the games, “here to lay judgment upon me once again.”

  “If I disapprove, it’s because you encourage it with you wastrel life. If your father could see you.”

  They were already starting with that, were they? Ethan’s entire life, he’d heard if your father only knew what a disappointment his only son had become. It made Ethan want to hit things. And then drink away his pain.

  But as he couldn’t indulge in the first, he’d crossed to the bachelor’s chest and started on the second, pouring himself a double.

  “What do you want, Uncle?”

  “For you to attend the Whitmores’ ball with me in two days’ time.”

  Ethan had blinked in surprise, turning so quickly, he sloshed his whiskey. “A ball. Why?”

  “There is a certain lady I’d like for you to meet.”

  Ethan’s lip had curled in distaste. It wasn’t that he didn’t like women. He liked them a great deal. Tall, short, rounded, or thin… He had a particular affection for petite brunettes, but he didn’t like to discriminate. It was rude.

  But the lady his uncle had chosen would not suit Ethan, of that he was certain. She’d likely be perfect and proper and not attractive to him at all. “Another girl?”

  “You know your time is running out. Your thirtieth birthday is in six short months.”

  Ethan swallowed down his drink in one large gulp. That damned clause his father had put in the guardianship had been hanging over his head like Damocles’s sword his entire adult life. “I could be engaged by the end of the week if I wished.”

  “Then why don’t you?” his uncle had fired back, his face hardening in anger. “No one would like to cease having these infernal discussions more than myself.”

  “Then stop having them. You don’t have to do anything. You choose to enforce the guardianship, not me.”

  “And watch my brother’s only son destroy our family’s legacy?” His uncle had risen then. “You’re coming to the ball.”

  “I can’t,” he said, pouring himself another large drink, not wishing to tell his uncle several key points of information. One, the money that his uncle was threatening to take over was nearly all spent, and two, Ethan had used a good portion of what was left of the fortune to purchase a gaming hell. What little he still had would be used to buy several more.

  Those clubs would replenish the money he’d spent, but since he’d earned that money himself, his uncle couldn’t take it. Then he’d be free to remain unwed and carefree for the rest of his life. “I’ve promised my very dear friend that I would check on his brother and his brother’s new wife in Upton Falls.”

  “The trip can wait—”

  “It cannot. There’s an emergency that needs attending.”

  His uncle had grunted, and his shoulders lost some of their rigidness. “You mean you’re actually going to take care of someone other than yourself?”

  Ethan bristled. Was that supposed to be some backhanded compliment? Not that it mattered. His uncle could not take away the title or the entitled properties that went with it. Those were Ethan’s—not that either did him much good without a fortune to maintain them. But he’d known since he was eighteen that if he didn’t wed by the time he reached thirty years of age, his uncle would take back control of the money, which was when Ethan had concocted his plan: spend the money and then make his own.

  And he was nearly done, he just needed to hold his uncle off for a bit longer and then he’d be free forever.

  But his near success, and the fact that he’d staved off the ball and his uncle’s matchmaking scheme hadn’t stopped Ethan from getting fall-down drunk last night. And anger still burned from his gut up his throat. Or was that the day-old liquor?

  The carriage rumbled to a stop, and he swiped a hand across his mouth, wondering at the interruption.

  “You’ll have to pull over,” a voice called. “We can’t both pass.”

  His driver snorted as he replied. “The Earl of Somersworth yields for no man.”

  He groaned. The driver was a new hire and surely meant well, but Ethan did not draw such lines with anyone but his uncle…

  “You’re passing through the land of Viscount Northville, and you dare to suggest that his carriage make way?”

  Ethan wrenched himself into a sitting position. While it might be poetic that he die on the road to Upton Falls now, when he was so close to victory, he’d prefer to actually see his own success. So he pushed open the door. “Stand down, Reilly, and let the carriage pass. We’re all friends here.”

  But it was too late, a man, a few years older than himself, stepped out from the vehicle, walking toward him. He was handsome but with a hardness that made Ethan pause in for a moment, Ethan swayed, knowing full well he was in no condition for an altercation. Especially not with a fellow like that. “My apologies,” Ethan called, waving a tired hand. “My driver meant no offense and neither do I. We’ll make way for you and your carriage.”

  “No offense taken. What I want to know, my lord, is why you pass on this road? Few do unless they are on their way to my neighbor’s home, Upton Falls.”

  “Yes. Lord Smith.” He gave a nod, instantly regretting it as pain lanced through his temple. “I am on my way to see him, but I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear of the care you’ve taken to protect his interests.”

  Two women emerged from the carriage as well, one older and one… He stopped. Red hair wasn’t normally his preference, but in this case…

  The young lady was stunning. Auburn hair loosely pulled back, ivory skin, and pale green eyes, tipped at the corners to give her innocent features just a touch of mischief and provocative appeal. Well, that and her obscenely full mouth. Pale pink lips that looked achingly soft and full, the sort a man could spend hours kissing.

&nbs
p; Her dress was the perfect shade of pale green to bring out the color of her eyes, and while the neckline was far too conservative for his liking, the fichu hiding any cleavage her dress might have exposed, the fabric hinted at the sort of curves a man dreamed of.

  The gentleman cleared his throat, reluctantly calling Ethan’s attention back. “Lord Smith is not only an excellent neighbor, but his brother just married my niece. We’re family now. Which is why, if you are a friend of his, you are one of ours as well. We must insist you join us for dinner.”

  He grimaced. All he wanted was to crawl into a bed and sleep the worst of his hangover off. “Kind offer…” He stopped—what was the man’s title again? Had he shared it?

  The other fellow turned back toward the older woman, who gave a quick jerk of her chin. What were they agreeing to? “I am Viscount Northville. And this is my lovely sister-in-law, Viscountess Northville, and her daughter, Miss Natalie Blake.”

  He ignored the rolling of his stomach as Red approached, her lips turned into a lovely and kind smile. Funny, but his uncle would like this one. Right title, pretty, and innocent, she had all the markings of a good wife with just a touch of sin mixed in to make her interesting.

  She closed the distance between them and gave a small curtsey. If only the dress showed a bit of cleavage. “A pleasure, my lord.”

  He bowed in return, the beginnings of a plan forming. She’d be fun to spend a bit of time with. Hold off his uncle until past the deadline…

  But he must have bent too far. Because with his stomach compressed, suddenly, it gave a violent roll, pitching wildly like a ship in a storm.

  He felt the bile rising and then all the contents of last night’s sins came violently up his esophagus and out of his mouth, landing in a putrid pool at the lady’s feet.

  He blinked several times, noting that the vomit had splashed up on her dress a disgusting shade of red in contrast to the pale green.

  He swiped a hand across his mouth and straightened, noting her wide, horrified eyes. Clearing his throat, he returned, “The pleasure is all mine.”

  Natalie attempted to process what had just happened as a smell so foul hit her nose, her nostrils curled. She took a step back as she yanked up the hem of her gown, but it was already too late. Her dress was ruined, and her slippers…

  She could feel the rancid wetness sinking through the shoes and into her stockings. Her own stomach turned, and she brought a scented kerchief up to her nose, attempting to mask the stench.

  Her gaze lifted to the man who’d just defiled her favorite gown. Despite the pasty color of his skin and the flop of blond hair on his forehead, she could see that he was handsome. Strong jaw, blue eyes, though a little dull currently, he was tall and a bit thin but still…his clothes were expertly cut. An earl, she’d heard the driver call out.

  Which meant her uncle had just invited him to dinner for the express purpose of creating a match for Natalie. That was the only explanation for why they’d have a road altercation with a man and then invite him to dinner.

  Even though she’d yet to have a season, Natalie knew men found her appealing. Her mother claimed it was a combination of her features and her genteel nature. Natalie couldn’t say. She just knew that she didn’t particularly like conflict and so she often conceded to avoid it. Was that genteel?

  In her mind, it was cowardly. Now, Natalie’s sister Emma, she knew how to cause a stir. Their mother had always claimed that the tendency would be Emma’s ruin, but as far as Natalie could see, her sister’s bolder nature had helped Emma find the perfect man to love and share her life with.

  Her stomach rolled again, this time having nothing to do with the vomit staining her dress. Natalie wished for love, but she knew the likelihood she’d ever experience the emotion was so slim.… She trembled.

  Her mother would have her trussed and tied to the highest-ranking lord before Natalie would even find the courage to squeak.

  “Oh dear,” her mother mumbled, also covering her face. Her uncle tugged at the lapels of his coat and Natalie dared to peek up at the lord who’d managed to paint her in bodily fluid. He looked…bored.

  The kerchief dropped a half inch. How did he manage it? Did he not have a shred of decency?

  Or was he like Emma—always in a bit of trouble? The idea made her cock her head, interest making her forget to cover her nose.

  “I would be honored to attend dinner,” the earl added, pushing back the hair that had wilted onto his forehead. “Tonight I will surely be dining with Lord and Lady Smith, but any night after that would be fine.”

  She blinked. He was going to just pretend he hadn’t vomited all over her? How did he manage it? How did he not even appear sorry?

  She dreamed of being so bold and brash. In fact, she’d written down a list of deeds she would commit if she were braver. She’d started her compilation of naughtiness at the age of thirteen and now, at eighteen, the list had grown quite long. They’d started small—steal a cooling pastry from the windowsill—but they’d grown ever more daring as she’d gotten older. Her imagination was far bolder then her actual person.

  She’d like to swim in the river at night without her clothes, and dance in the rain, climb a tree, attend a masquerade ball. and…

  “Tomorrow, then?” her uncle asked, giving her mother a sidelong glance. Her mother’s nose twitched in distaste. It was a tiny gesture that most would never notice, but Natalie knew her mother well, and that twitch meant that her mother did not like the earl despite his title.

  Then again, her mother was desperate to see Natalie wed. Her uncle had grown tired of supporting them, and a good match for Natalie would mean a good dowager home for the countess.

  This was surely the reason her mother answered, “Tomorrow sounds lovely.”

  Natalie’s belly gave another roll of objection. They would not sincerely attempt to match her with a man who’d just heaved all over her…would they?

  CHAPTER TWO

  Ethan climbed back into his carriage, a wave of self-loathing crashing over him. He’d just tossed day-old liquor from his stomach onto a woman’s dress and hadn’t even bothered to apologize. Over the course of his adult life, he’d learned to fake anything he wished. But it was in these sorts of moments he wondered if his uncle wasn’t correct after all…perhaps Ethan was just as horrid as his father’s brother assumed.

  He tugged at the lapels of his coat and assured himself that it did not matter. Even if he decided to use Red—he’d forgotten her actual name—in his plot to thwart his uncle, it shouldn’t matter that he’d just humiliated himself and disgusted her. She’d pretend he was dashing and wonderful even though she was likely repulsed. And he’d play the attentive beau for a bit while he needed her.

  The plan took shape in his mind. He’d introduce her to his uncle, claim to wish to marry the girl. They’d court, and then, when he showed his rakish ways, allow her to end the charade. He’d not ruin her entire future. In fact, she’d be sought-after from his attention. They’d both leave the relationship in a better position.

  But by then, his birthday would have passed, and he’d be on his way to building his own fortune, his father’s all spent.

  If his uncle realized the state of the finances before that….He’d be liable to seize control all the assets.

  Ethan shifted. The beauty of courting a woman so far from London was that he’d only need to see her occasionally, and at least she was lovely to look at while he needed to be here. Plan made, he sat back, content to rest for the remainder of the journey, which ended a few short minutes later when the carriage stopped again.

  He groaned as he climbed out and Lord Rushton Smith stepped out his front door.

  “Nice place you got here.” Ethan gave his business partner a grin as he stepped from the carriage. “How’s the new wife?”