The Rake’s Christmas Wager (Spinsters and their Suitors #2)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

T he next morning, Henry waited for Miss Ashworth at the breakfast table, but she didn’t come. Either she was an earlier riser than he was, and had already taken her breakfast, or she’d sent for a tray. Activities for this morning and afternoon were unstructured, but he had hoped to spend time with Miss Ashworth. As the afternoon waned, and he still hadn’t seen her, Henry retreated to the billiard room, needing a moment of solitude to gather his thoughts. Last night had been different from what he had expected.

He had anticipated the usual banter, the lighthearted teasing he so often engaged in with women, but Lily—Miss Ashworth—had turned the tables on him. She had seen through his charm, resisted his flirtation, and left him questioning himself in a way he hadn’t experienced in years.

As he leaned over the billiard table, lining up a shot, he heard the familiar sound of footsteps behind him.

“Still avoiding the crowd, Brinton?” came the amused voice of Lord Camden. Henry glanced up, offering a half-smile as Camden entered the room and picked up a cue stick.

“Just needed some air,” Henry replied lightly, though his mind was far from settled.

Camden watched him with a knowing look as he set up for his shot. “I’ve never seen you work so hard for a kiss before. It’s almost amusing.”

Henry straightened, pausing with his cue stick in hand. “Who says I’m working for a kiss?”

Camden chuckled, taking his shot and sinking the ball with practiced ease. “You haven’t gloated that you’ve won yet—therefore, you are still trying to win, or perhaps you are accepting an early defeat.”

Henry rolled his eyes, leaning against the table. “I shall never accept defeat, you know that.”

“Then why are you taking so long?”

“There is no need to rush. It’s all part of the harmless game,” he said, though he was less and less convinced by those words now.

“Harmless?” Camden raised an eyebrow, lining up his next shot. “If it were simply a game, you wouldn’t be so distracted. I’ve seen you charm your way through countless house parties, and I’ve never once seen you actually care about the outcome.”

Henry’s jaw tightened as he leaned against the edge of the table. Camden wasn’t wrong, but the truth was something Henry wasn’t sure he was ready to admit, even to himself. “It’s the same as it always is. I don’t feel the need to kiss every woman at the ball, and kissing too soon could spell disaster for later in the house party.” The words felt strangled even as he said them.

“This time, it’s different,” Camden continued, giving him a pointed look. “I’ve never seen you take such an interest in one woman for more than an evening. Yet you’ve been chasing Miss Ashworth during every social event. Don’t tell me it’s just about the kiss.”

Henry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It started that way,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “But I’m beginning to think there’s more to it.”

Camden straightened, leaning on his cue stick as he studied Henry. “More? As in, you’re actually interested in pursuing a relationship with her?”

Henry hesitated, staring down at the green felt of the table. He hadn’t intended for this to happen. He’d come to Wintervale for a bit of fun, a distraction from the usual monotony of society’s expectations. But Miss Ashworth was different. She wasn’t swayed by his charm, wasn’t impressed by his title or his reputation. In fact, she seemed to see right through it all, and that intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.

“I have never felt this way before,” Henry said slowly, his voice thoughtful. “She doesn’t care about any of this—the title, the wealth, the games. I can’t tell if she actually favors me or if she’s just tolerating my presence.”

Camden smirked. “I’d wager it’s the latter, for now.”

Henry chuckled, shaking his head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m only saying that if you want more than a kiss, you might have to do something you’ve never done before.” Camden paused, watching him carefully. “Be sincere.”

Henry met his gaze, and for a moment, the weight of Camden’s words settled heavily between them. Be sincere. It was such a simple idea, but it felt like an insurmountable challenge. He had spent years hiding behind his charm, his reputation as a rake, because it was easier than risking real vulnerability.

But with Miss Ashworth, things were different. She was interesting, and he enjoyed talking with her. He looked forward to hearing what she would say and what opinion she would give. She liked to be contrary, but he wondered if she really was, or if she was simply looking for a reaction from him. He wanted more than a fleeting kiss beneath the mistletoe. He wanted to understand her, to break through her walls the way she had begun to break through his.

“I’m not even sure she’d believe me if I tried,” Henry said, his tone quieter now, almost uncertain.

Camden shrugged, taking another shot. “You won’t know until you do. But if she’s worth it—which, by the way, I think she is—you’ll have to try. Otherwise, you’re just playing the same old game.”

Henry stared at the billiard balls scattered across the table, his mind churning. For the first time, the idea of the mistletoe wager felt hollow. It wasn’t about the kiss anymore. The thought of winning some meaningless bet paled in comparison to the growing feeling in his chest whenever Miss Ashworth was near.

It was terrifying, really, the way she unsettled him. He had always been so sure of himself, so in control of every situation, but with Miss Ashworth, nothing was certain. He craved something real—he had been sincere when he’d spoken those words during their chess game last night. Something real was something he hadn’t realized he’d been missing all these years.

“I’m not sure how to start,” Henry admitted, his voice low.

Camden rested his cue stick against the wall and gave him a look that was equal parts amused and sympathetic. “Maybe stop thinking about it as a game. Start by being honest with yourself, and then with her.”

Henry nodded, though his thoughts were far from settled. He wasn’t sure how to approach Miss Ashworth. But he knew one thing for certain—this was no longer about a mistletoe kiss.

Miss Lillian Ashworth was worth much more than that.