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

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T he drawing room at Wintervale Manor buzzed with anticipation as the guests gathered around the grand fireplace, eager for another evening of Christmas games. The candles flickered merrily, casting a golden glow over the room, while the crackling fire added warmth to the lively scene. Lily Ashworth sat near the edge of the group, her lips curving into a faint smile as she watched Beatrice arrange the players into a circle.

“There’s nothing like a bit of mischief to liven up a winter’s evening, don’t you think?” Beatrice called out cheerfully, her eyes sparkling with delight as she glanced at the eager faces around her. “We’ll start with Blind Man’s Bluff, and I’m sure we’ll find some other amusements as the night goes on.”

Lily felt a flutter of excitement at the prospect. She hadn’t played games like these since she was a girl, and though she had initially intended to watch from the sidelines, she found herself increasingly tempted to join in. There was a lightness in the air tonight, and she was curious to see how the evening would unfold.

Across the room, Lord Brinton stood chatting with Lord Camden and Lady Harriett, his easy charm as apparent as ever. Lily glanced at Lord Brinton briefly, noting the way his eyes seemed to drift toward her more often than necessary. She had grown accustomed to his presence over the past few days, and she took her cousin’s advice to not jump too quickly to conclusions about him. Since then, though he was a man who wielded words like weapons, she admired his wit, and had found him both pleasant and charming. When their eyes met again, she offered him a small smile. He was definitely affecting her.

“Come now, Miss Ashworth,” Lady Harriett said, appearing at her side with a playful grin. “Surely you’ll join us for Blind Man’s Bluff? It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Lily hesitated for a moment, but Lady Harriett’s infectious enthusiasm and the eager faces of the surrounding guests left her with little room to refuse. “Very well,” she agreed with a smile. “But I make no promises about my abilities in this particular game.”

“That’s the spirit!” Beatrice exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Now, who shall be blindfolded first?”

Before Lily could respond, Lord Camden stepped forward, his mischievous grin unmistakable. “I nominate our dear friend, Lord Brinton, to be the first blind man. What say you all?”

A chorus of agreement rang out, and Lord Brinton, always one to rise to a challenge, offered a mock bow. “Very well. I shall gladly take up the role—though I warn you all, my senses are sharper than you might expect.”

“Famous last words,” Lily muttered under her breath, earning a quiet chuckle from Lady Harriett.

Lord Brinton was quickly blindfolded with a silk scarf, and the guests formed a loose circle around him, doing their best to stifle giggles as they prepared for the game to begin. Lily found herself standing between Lady Beatrice and Lord Camden, watching with amusement as Lord Brinton extended his arms, feeling his way through the air like a man adrift.

“Let the game begin!” Beatrice declared, and the room erupted in a flurry of movement.

Laughter erupted from the group, and Lily found herself laughing along with them.

Lord Brinton stood in the middle of the room, and stumbled forward, his hands grasping at the air as the guests darted around him, carefully avoiding his reach. Lily moved quietly, slipping behind a chair as he passed by, his brow furrowed in concentration. The room was filled with laughter as he narrowly missed Lady Harriett, who deftly dodged him by ducking behind a curtain.

“Come now, surely you’re not all so elusive!” Lord Brinton called out, his voice filled with humor and an exaggerated frustration.

Lily chuckled, though her amusement was short-lived as Lord Brinton lunged toward her once more, his hand brushing her arm. She gasped softly as he caught her wrist, pulling her gently toward him.

“Aha!” Lord Brinton exclaimed triumphantly, pulling off the blindfold with a flourish. His eyes met hers, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. “I believe I’ve caught Miss Ashworth.”

The guests cheered, and Lily trying to keep her composure despite the sudden warmth spreading through his grasp on her arms. “Well done, Lord Brinton. You’ve won this round. But let’s see if your skills hold up when you’re not blindfolded.”

The group laughed.

“Let’s hope fortune smiles upon my ability.” He handed the silk scarf to Lord Camden.

“You seem to make a habit of assuming fortune is always in your favor,” Lily replied.

“Fortune smiles on those who know how to court her,” Henry quipped, leaning in slightly, his voice lowering. “Or so I’ve been told.”

Lily met his gaze without blinking, her lips curving into a slow, measured smile. “Perhaps, Lord Brinton. But fortune can be fickle. Sometimes it’s better to rely on skill.”

“Touché, Miss Ashworth.”

Lord Brinton took his place in the circle, and Lord Camden stepped forward to take his turn as the next blind man. The game continued with much merriment, and though Lily managed to evade capture for the remainder of the round, she couldn’t help but notice how Lord Brinton’s gaze lingered on her throughout the game, his smiles just a touch warmer, his laughter a bit more genuine whenever she was nearby.

After several rounds of Blind Man’s Bluff, Beatrice clapped her hands to signal a change in the evening’s entertainment. “Now, for something a bit more refined,” she announced. “We shall play Questions and Commands!”

The group gathered around a large table, eager for the next round of games. Lily’s pulse raced. Playing this game with Lord Brinton meant that she might receive unexpected answers about him. She took a seat across from Lord Brinton. He smiled at her, and she felt like she was the only person in the room when he looked at her in such a way. The rules were simple: players could either answer a question or perform a forfeit—usually some lighthearted task designed to entertain the group.

Lord Camden went first, asking Lady Harriett to sing the first verse of a well-known Christmas carol, which she did with gusto, to the delight of everyone present. Next, it was Lady Beatrice’s turn, and she asked Lord Camden to mimic a reindeer, which he did with exaggerated aplomb, much to the group’s amusement.

Then it was Lord Brinton’s turn. He turned his gaze toward Lily, a playful glint in his eyes. “Miss Ashworth,” he said, leaning forward slightly, “I shall be merciful and ask you a question. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

Lily met his gaze, considering the question. “Anywhere?” she asked, her tone thoughtful. “I suppose … somewhere quiet. Near the sea, perhaps. A place where the noise of the world is distant, and one can think clearly.”

Lord Brinton’s expression softened, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. He leaned back in his chair, fingers loosely resting on the arms. “A place of solitude and reflection,” he repeated, his voice lower. “I can understand the appeal of that.”

Surprised by the sincerity in his tone, Lily felt something warm stir within her chest. She returned his gaze, a small smile pulling at her lips. “And you, Lord Brinton? Where would you choose to live?”

Lord Brinton hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as though he hadn’t expected the question to be turned back on him. He straightened in his chair, his fingers tracing the edge of his glass. “Somewhere I can build something meaningful,” he said, his voice quieter. “I’ve lived many places, but I suppose it’s not the place itself that matters, but what you make of it.”

Their eyes met across the table, and for a brief moment, the noise of the room seemed to fade into the background. There was something unspoken between them, something that went beyond the games and laughter they’d been indulging in all evening. But before the moment could linger, Beatrice called for the next question, and the lively energy returned.

Later in the evening, Henry was commanded to perform a forfeit—he was to recite a poem. He rose from his seat, his smile both playful and reluctant. “Very well,” he said, casting a quick glance in Lily’s direction. His eyes caught hers, lingering for just a moment before he began.

“Blame not the poet, for he sees,

In fleeting moments, truths like these:

The sunlight’s kiss upon the sea,

The softest breath of melody.

What fault is mine if I should tell,

Of beauty found, where others dwell?

The joy of life, a spark ignites,

In shadows cast by day and night.

And though I search for love once near,

It dances close, then disappears.

Yet still I write, and still I find,

That love, though scarce, is not unkind.

It slips, it fades, yet leaves its mark,

A flame that flickers in the dark.

So blame me not, for what I see,

For beauty shared is meant to be.

In every line, in every word,

A glimpse of something true is heard.”

His voice was rich and steady, and as he spoke, the room quieted. The words of Edmund Ashcroft seemed to flow effortlessly from him, and for a brief moment, the playful Lord Brinton was replaced by someone quieter, more reflective. His gaze flickered to Lily again as he recited the last lines, and she couldn’t help but notice the depth beneath his seemingly casual demeanor.

When he finished and bowed, the room erupted in applause, but Lily remained still for a moment, her thoughts swirling. She watched him closely, her heart stirring at the way his tone had shifted. The applause faded, and guests began conversing and laughing.

When Lily was quite sure no one would overhear her, she leaned forward toward Lord Brinton. “Well done, my lord. Another charming recitation,” Lily remarked.

He lifted an eyebrow. “That is most generous coming from the woman who could not be affected by poetic artistry.”

“It’s not t hat .”

He smiled. “Just the poets, I see.”

She didn’t confirm this statement. “You do seem to have a talent for remembering the works of others.”

Lord Brinton chuckled, shaking his head as he took his seat. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Miss Ashworth, though I suspect there’s more to your words than meets the ear.”

“You must tell me, how many poems do you have memorized, Lord Brinton?” she asked, unable to hide her genuine curiosity.

Lord Brinton raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Enough to keep you entertained through many a long evening,” he replied, his voice low with amusement. Then he tilted his head, considering her with a challenge in his eyes. “But if you wish for the answer to that question, Miss Ashworth, you must pay a forfeit.”

Lily’s pulse quickened, her smile growing as she took the bait. “And what sort of forfeit would you ask of me?”

He leaned in slightly, the intensity in his gaze sending a shiver through her. “I should like to hear you recite something in return,” he said. “A poem, or even a passage from a novel you enjoy.”

Lily narrowed her eyes at him, knowing she had no such recitation prepared but intrigued by the game he was playing. “You drive a hard bargain, Lord Brinton,” she said with mock gravity, “but I am not without my wit. I shall think of something.”

He grinned, clearly pleased with the turn of events. “Very well. I look forward to hearing it.”

But before the conversation could return to lighthearted banter, his expression shifted again. His eyes softened as he regarded her. “In the meantime, Miss Ashworth, since you have asked me a question, I believe I am owed the same courtesy.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Is that not what we have been doing this whole evening?”

“Ah, but this time, I ask a question that requires more than a polite answer,” he said, his voice lowering. “A question you cannot easily deflect.”

Intrigued, and slightly unsettled by the intensity in his tone, Lily nodded for him to continue.

He hesitated, his gaze searching hers as though weighing his words carefully. “If you had the chance to change one decision you’ve made in your life, would you? And what would it be?”

The room seemed to shrink around them as the weight of his question settled between them. Lily blinked, caught off guard by the depth of the inquiry. For a moment, the noise of the room faded once again, and all she could hear was the steady beat of her own heart.

“I am not certain,” she said slowly, her voice soft. “There are things I regret, of course. Moments when I might have acted differently. But to change them? I don’t know if I would. Every decision has led me to where I am now.”

His gaze didn’t waver, his expression serious. “And are you content with where you are now?”

Lily hesitated, the question hanging in the air. Was she content? Her life, though peaceful, had always felt like something was missing. But here, in this moment, with Lord Brinton watching her so intently, she felt a spark of something new—something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Words from her cousin came back to her. There was a difference between contentment and happiness. She was content, but was that enough?

“I am surprised you ask such deep questions,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lord Brinton’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a softness in his eyes, a recognition of the truth in her words. “That is not an answer, merely an observation,” he said quietly.

She thought about moments big and small, the painful and the joyful. Changing one small detail could have massive implications. Where would she be without all of those moments? She had no idea. “Very well, Lord Brinton. I wouldn’t change anything. And I am content to be here at this house party. What about you, Lord Brinton?”

“What about me?”

“How would you answer your own questions? It appears if you ask deep questions, you must have thought through the answers.”

He smiled. “Of course I have. And there is nowhere else I would rather be than right here, enjoying various parlor games with you.” His eyes sparkled.

Her breath hitched. There was a rawness in his expression. Open and unguarded.

The air between them felt charged, the conversation having shifted into something far more personal than she had intended. And yet, neither of them moved to break the spell.

Before she could reply, Beatrice rose to her feet, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “And now, the final game of the night: The Minister’s Cat!”

Lord Brinton leaned closer to Lily, whispering in her ear so that only she could hear. “And I believe I will find the words to beat you in our next game.”

His whisper tickled her neck, and gooseflesh ran the length of her neck and shoulder. Her breath caught, her voice breathy even to her own ears. “I shall be on my guard, Lord Brinton.”

The guests formed a circle once more, preparing for the word game. As they took turns describing the minister’s cat with increasingly elaborate adjectives, the room filled with laughter and light-hearted banter. When it was Lord Brinton’s turn, he glanced at Lily before declaring, “The minister’s cat is a bewitching cat.”

Lily’s lips twitched as she met his gaze, her voice smooth as she followed with, “The minister’s cat is a boastful cat.” She laughed through most of the game as different adjectives were used to describe the Minister’s Cat.

The game continued with playful competitiveness, and by the time the evening drew to a close, the room was filled with a warm sense of camaraderie.

As the guests broke off into smaller groups, Lily stood near the fire, watching the last embers flicker and fade. Lord Brinton approached quietly, standing beside her as the room grew still.

“Did you enjoy the games, Miss Ashworth?” he asked softly, his voice low.

Lily smiled, her gaze lingering on the flames. “I did. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed so much.”

Lord Brinton’s smile was warm, his eyes holding hers for a moment longer than usual. “I’m glad. I’ve enjoyed them too, more than I expected.”

She nodded. The answer suited him. “The games were quite diverting this evening.”

He smiled. “Indeed they were. I enjoyed The Minister’s Cat immensely.”

“I should have thought you would have said you enjoyed reciting poetry as your forfeit,” she mused.

“I enjoyed that as well. However, the questions were more telling than the forfeits in some cases.”

“They were,” she said. “But questions could be asked and answered through the rest of the house party without the formality of playing Questions and Commands.”

“That is very true, but would we get as truthful of answers without the penalty of a forfeit, I wonder?” he asked.

“I imagine that you would,” she said.

He looked at her skeptically. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Then try me. What would you ask that you think I wouldn’t answer?” she asked, wondering if she should have thought about that before she gave him liberty to ask a question.

“Very well, Miss Ashworth,” he said, his gaze searching hers. “Have you ever been in love?”

Lily’s breath hitched slightly, the question catching her off guard. She hadn’t expected such directness, especially not from him, not here amidst the laughter and chatter of the gathering. Her mind raced, and for a moment, her heart tightened at the memory of her past.

She swallowed, glancing down at her hands before meeting his gaze again, her voice quieter than before. She would give him the answer, though during a game, she likely would have picked a forfeit to avoid such a question. Perhaps he did know a few things about her after all. She decided to throw him off. She would meet his direct question with a direct answer and see what he made of it. “I thought I had been once,” she said softly. “But it was a fleeting thing, more illusion than truth.” Was it actually love? There was certainly pain from the memory—but whether the pain was from real heartbreak or simply from being slighted, she couldn’t quite make out in her mind when Lord Brinton’s eyes were searching hers.

His brow furrowed slightly. “An illusion?” he prompted gently.

Lily hesitated, but there was something in the way he was looking at her, something that made her feel as though she could be honest. She had never spoken of it to anyone beyond her family, but in this moment, the truth didn’t feel as vulnerable as it once had.

“I fell for someone who, in the end, was more interested in toying with hearts than committing to any one of them,” she admitted, her tone measured but with a hint of the old wound beneath it. “It was a lesson, I suppose. A painful one, but one I learned well.”

There was a brief silence as Henry absorbed her words. His expression softened, a flicker of something—understanding, perhaps—crossing his features. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “No one should have to endure that.”

Lily managed a small, rueful smile. “I’ve come to realize that people often show you who they are, if only you’re willing to see it. I was young, and I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

Lord Brinton’s gaze never left hers, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavy with the weight of what she had revealed. But instead of retreating, he leaned closer, his voice steady. “You deserved better than that, Lily.”

The use of her Christian name sent a soft shiver down her spine, and she blinked, surprised by the warmth in his words. Her heart fluttered, the defenses she had carefully built over the years feeling suddenly fragile in the face of his sincerity.

“And what about you, Lord Brinton?” she asked, her voice steadier now, though still soft. “Have you ever been in love?”

He hesitated, his gaze distant for a moment, as though considering the question carefully. He opened his mouth to respond, but then a flicker of something—perhaps uncertainty—crossed his face. He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I thought I had been, once as well,” he admitted quietly. “But much like you, I discovered it wasn’t what I believed it to be.”

Lily nodded, understanding the weight of his words, and a quiet moment passed between them—one of shared experience, of lives touched by disappointment but not defeated by it.

His gaze lingered on her, and for the first time that evening, it wasn’t playful or teasing. It was something else entirely—something deeper, more sincere. “Perhaps,” he said, his voice low, “it’s time we both found something real.”

The intensity of his words sent a jolt through Lily, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure how to respond. There was an undeniable tension between them now, one that felt far more dangerous than the lighthearted banter they had exchanged earlier. “Perhaps,” she said.

But before they could continue their conversation, Beatrice commanded the room again, pulling everyone into the plans for tomorrow before everyone went to their separate rooms.